#maybe i just need to get over myself and fall in line idk

[mumblesplash]

ladies et cetera of the jury i will be so honest and i understand if you all can’t see me the same after this but i simply do not understand the appeal of making grian a bird. i am so sorry. i just don’t get it. why is his knack for elytra flying not 10x more compelling as a learned skill than an innate one. what does this add to the character. why is it so universal. i just can’t get my head around it and i’m starting to fear i never will

[maneskinwh0re]

“one more word.” ~ butch!wolverine x ladypool!reader this is just a wlw honda odyssey scene bc i need butch wolverine to be real. i also aimed to write them in character! give feedback babes plsssss

cw: outdated cultural references, fourth wall breaking, nsfw, blood, f!ngering, strap!sex, idk just lotta gay shit xx

wc: 4.3k...👁️👁️

"get. in the fucking. car."

"it'll get you there safe and sound!" nicepool reassures with a loving pat to the top of the grey honda odyssey. "lil betsy always does." his eyes then fall to dogpool, who is held tightly in your arms. "you're gonna have to give me my dog back, though..."

"i know," you reply matter-of-factly. "listen-" you start before mary puppins places a paw on your hand. "yes, child... if you ever want to give her up or if she needs a new home, or if something should happen to you, i'd love to be her mama."

nicepool only wheezes at your remark. "what would ever happen to me?"

"lots of stuff," you reply with a shrug, smiling innocently under your red mask.

as soon as he realizes your seriousness, his smile fades and looks to the older woman standing to his right in an ask for help. the wolverine lets out a huff as she pushes herself off the honda and moves to grab the dog from your grasp.

"n-no! we're running away- agh- the corn was too dense, girl!" you say in apologies to mary puppins and watch sadly as laura hands the you-variant over to the other, nicer-you-variant.

you begrudgingly get in the passenger seat of the shitty car, waving goodbye to dogpool. the obnoxious sound of you singing "we'll meet again" is muffled by the car windows as laura drives you both away.

time passes. maybe 15 minutes, maybe an hour. doesn't matter, reader— don't worry about it. you haven’t been paying attention to the time because you’ve been sneaking quick gazes at the wolverine in the driver’s seat to your left. the way her brown hair curls up on either sides of her head looks so cute. yet the way her large, gloved hands grip the steering wheel causes your mind to wander other places. all you know now is there’s been a lingering thought poking at your brain since you picked this wolverine up from that bar in her universe.

"okay i'm just gonna ask. what's with the suit? first thing i did when i flamed out: i took mine off."

"drop it." laura mutters.

"it's not that ugly..."

"stop talkin about my suit."

"did you make it yourself? been there!"

"quit. now." the tension in her voice is rising.

"the x-men make you wear it? those sons of fuckin bitches. they are not your friends, i'll tell ya that. friends don't let friends leave the house looking like they fight crime for the los angeles rams-"

"shut the fuck up about the suit," she snaps.

"woahwoahwoah watch your frown lines, angel baby." you back off, lifting your hands in a motion of surrender. "i'm just trying to bond a little bit-"

"yeah? well then talk about something else."

"fine!"

there's an uncomfortable silence between you two, only for a moment before you play around, making spiderman web motions with your gloved hands. you just can’t help but annoy the woman next to you, it’s too much fun. it’s like your duty as passenger princess.

"stop it," she snaps again soon enough.

"why? don't wanna get distracted seeing my fingers in this motion?" you tease, moving your middle and ring finger back and forth. laura only scoffs at the sexual innuendo. "ahh, the natural hand position of the sapphics." you turn to look out the car window and make eye contact with the reader. "is that why so many masc lesbians are obsessed with spiderman? i guess only earth-616 knows the correlation..."

and wait- if i'm supposedly you, the reader, but as ladypool-- then how am i breaking the fourth wall? gasp! a fourth wall break inside a fourth wall break... that's like- sixteen walls... am i talking to myself? or talking to myself? whatever. anyway i know why you're here, you slut. let's make conversation by pushing wolvie's buttons some more, yeah?

"if they could fix your world, what's the first thing you're gonna do when you get outta here? some rubbing alcohol shots? maybe a wiper fluid chaser?"

laura's gaze slowly turns to you. "what did you say?"

"i said when you get back, what's the first thing you're gonna do-"

"no no, before that."

"if-" you catch yourself. shit. "-they can fix your world?"

with an aggressive slam on the break, your seatbelt doesn't even have time to prevent your head from colliding with the dashboard. and as the car stops, you know there's nothing that can save you from the rage behind wolverine's tone.

"what do you mean if?" she asks through gritted teeth, body fully turned to face you.

"i mean-"

"you lied to me. you don't have a fucking clue if they could help me fix things. do you?"

"no, but i mean-" you start to defend yourself before three metal claws impale your thigh, and probably extend under you all the way through to your seat. "agh- fuck! fuck! i didn't lie!"

"you lied!"

"no! i made an educated wish!"

laura only tilts her head at your defense, eyebrows furrowing.

"because i need you," you continue as you unfold the photo that was in your pocket and hold it up for her to see. "this is why. right here. cause if we don't do something, they die. i don't know anything about saving worlds, and why would i even care? cause my entire world is right here in this picture. it's only nine people, and i have no idea how to save it alone. i know how to fuck people up for money but you- YOU know how to save them... at least the other wolverine did-" at that last comment, laura twists her claws in your thigh, striking enough pain for more curses to escape your mouth. "f-fuck! ah- i guess i'm stuck with the worst one-"

"did you just say you made an educated... fucking wish?"

"they call me the merc with the mouth. they don't call me truthful timmy the blowjob queen of sass catoo-"

the three metal blades are quickly removed from your thigh only to be brought up next to your face. laura's shaky breath exercises seem to be the only thing keeping her from slicing you apart.

"one more word... please, give me one." her guttural voice is a low warning. you wait a moment as if thinking to a random word generator in your brain.

"~gubernatorial~" you say simply before cowaring behind flailing arms when laura prepares to stab you in the face, only fake you out. her breaths are deeper, more steady as if she's trying to calm herself.

"you know what? you're a fucking joke... no wonder the avengers didn't take you, or the x-men or fuckin anyone. i mean you are a ridiculous, immature, half-wit moron. i have never met a sadder, more attention-starved, jabbering, little prick in my entire life. and that says a lot 'cause i've been alive for over two hundred fucking years." the volume in her voice begins to rise with each word, striking your emotions further and further as you sit there speechless, yet her anger keeps rising. "and i'll tell ya- that villain chick was right about one thing: you will NEVER save the world. you couldn't even save a relationship with a goddamn stripper! and motherfucker i wish i could say you'd die alone, but it's one of GOD'S best jokes that you can't die! except that's all on all of US!"

she hits nerve after nerve. the pain in your chest hurts too fucking bad. you are not only speechless, you never want to speak again. you have millions of words to say yet none at all.

how fucking dare she bring up vanessa like that? who does laura think she is? no fucking hero, that's for goddamn sure.

"you got nothing to say, mouth?" she asks, almost out of breath from yelling accusations.

all you can manage to say is one sentence. and she doesn’t even fucking deserve the warning too. "i'm gonna fight you now."

wolverine only snorts, a pitiful laugh towards your remark. "oh, are you?"

you take note how a quick punch to her nose shuts her right up, and watch in satisfaction how blood trickles out her nostril down to her upper lip. your small victory is cut short by her fist colliding to the same spot on your own nose. she pushes you to the window and grabs the back of your mask, then slams your face down onto the center head unit multiple times. different radio stations flick back and forth as you make contact with the buttons and nozzles, eventually landing on a song from the original 'grease' soundtrack.

♡ last gore x nsfw warning !! :3 ♡

you lift your hand to grab one of your swords but another punch to the cheek causes your vision to cloud. by the time you come to your senses, laura has buckled your seatbelt and is digging her left claw into your stomach, twisting her hand slowly.

“not talkin’ now, are ya?” she growls before withdrawing her claws and moving to stab you again. pulling the lever on the side of your car seat, you fall backwards to quickly dodge her blow. you kick your foot against her shoulder to keep her back, and then tightly wrap your legs around her head. another three blades enter your side in a sudden motion, causing you to release your chokehold.

“agh! you dirty bitch!” you shout before kicking her out the front windshield of the honda. you laugh and point as she rolls and tumbles through the leaves and dirt. as soon as she gets up, you unsheathe your swords while she sprints back to you. she’s a fucking animal—ramming herself into the front of the car, causing the airbag to go off on your stomach and send you flying back into the reclined seat.

laura jumps through the broken windshield and lands claws first on top of your already bloodied body. slash after slash, you both further each others’ injuries until you flip laura over and pin her down to the seat. there is surprise in her eyes with a hint of something else that you can’t quite pinpoint. trying to catch your breath, she only looks up at you with a ratted smile, as if amused to see you attempting to kill her. blood stains her face and fanged teeth, and her short hair is tangled and damp with sweat. fuck—it’s a sight. with your elbow against her chest, you’re still close enough to smell her alcohol-tainted breath.

“need a mint, you preening slut?” you ask before you are flying through the sunroof of the honda and falling to the ground outside the car. after kicking yourself up, your little wolvie gestures for you to come back with a simple hand wave behind the window. who are you to keep her waiting? throwing the swords over your shoulders, you take out your baby knives before running back to the car and jumping through the window.

broken glass and blood is everywhere, but neither of you care. you’re both having too much fun trying to murder the other as you take turns regenerating. it’s a pointless waste of time and energy. a total meaningless circle of fighting and healing.

you pin laura through the broken windshield and onto the front hood of the car, stabbing her shoulder and arms repeatedly with a knife. the sleeves of her suit eventually fall apart, fabric scattering and leaving her muscular arms to your gaze. so clearly you’re distracted. she grabs your wrist behind her and heaves your arm over her head to hold you in her place for a moment to catch her breath.

she then drags you by the belt from across the car and holds you down with her body in the back seat. her claws sink through the red fabric and into your sides. again. and again. the repetitive motions of the sharp metal soon causes a big tear in the fabric of your suit, exposing the skin under your breast. it seems as if neither of you notice at first, continuously fighting until another stretch from her pinning your arms above your head causes a terrible ripping sound. you both stop and look down, unsure on who has the decency to yield the fight first.

wolverine pauses for a moment, hovering over your bare tit before suddenly attacking your nipple with her mouth. there is nothing gentle about it, and you can’t tell if her actions are still a way of fighting with the harsh ways her sharp teeth nip and bite.

you lay there for a moment in shock, chest heaving up and down in short spurts as you try to breathe. your hands drop the knives to the car floor behind you, yet your wrists are still trapped in the wolverine’s grip. before you can think to stop it, a breathy whimper escapes your lips. the sound pricks laura to come to her senses and looks up at you with a flushed expression.

fucking hell. if you weren’t okay with what’s happening, you would’ve said something by now. even laura knows that—considering how fucking chatty you are.

“were ya hungry, peanut? needed a mid-fight snack?” you tease, tilting your head with a raised brow.

“i didn’t say i was finished.” she smirks before lowering her head to your chest again. her tongue circles and flicks at your nipple, treating it oh so lovingly before biting and pulling at it so fucking roughly. you chew on your bottom lip to muffle your own moans—all because you’re too stubborn to let her know how fucking good it feels.

she’s holding herself back, yet you kick her chest and propel her weight backwards onto the head unit, while the momentum pushes you the opposite direction into the third row of seats. as she falls, the grease song playing from the radio is muted, leaving you two to a short-lived silence.

"i was wrong—the honda odyssey fucks hard,” you say, rolling your head back and cracking your neck in the process. looking back to laura, you usher her to you with a teasing two-finger motion. “too bad you don't, needle dick.”

“oh, we’re just getting started, bub,” she replies, eyeing your manspread position before lunging to you again.

calling her an animal is to say the fucking least. but you’re no better. she rips and tears your suit, not giving a single fuck in the world that you may need to keep it in tact for later in the plot line. she pulls the tough fabric apart, exposing your tits to her lingering eyes. it’s like a switch is flipped. all of a sudden she can’t get enough, wanting- needing to see more of you. for a moment, you just let her. your belt is removed followed by your pants all while you just lay back and watch her do the work. soon you’re only in your black underwear, smirking under your red and black mask at how fucking needy she looks. her callused hands grip your waist, easily pulling you up to her as her mouth finds your other nipple.

“you’re not you when your hungry. and clearly, you always seem incredibly hungry, wolvie.”

“shuh du phvck uh.” is what you make of her boob-drunk gibberish and assume she’s simply cussing you out.

“huh? couldn’t quite catch that. y’ know you really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full-”

a large, gloved hand muffles your masked mouth before her lips release your tit with a pop.

“off,” she says. you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and she must be able to tell by your silence, causing her to elaborate quickly while her free hand lingers on the black lace of your underwear. “i don’t want a damn word out of your filthy mouth until you’ve taken these off. if you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to let me.”

fucking hell. panties are soaking wet right now.

you slowly nod your head in her restrictive grip, and lift your hips to remove the damp fabric from your body. damp from blood or sweat or something else… who fucking knows and who fucking cares. you toss them to the side and immediately pull laura closer to you. her harsh kisses mark your neck and collarbone before she wets her middle finger with her tongue and starts to rub quick circles on your clit. you almost push her away, her starting speed too overstimulating at first, but you soon get used to it, bucking your hips in a physical ask to move faster.

“keep still, sweetheart. that’s it,” fuck even her praise is still low and demanding somehow. you wrap your hands around her hairy forearm, hissing curses as you feel yourself grow closer and closer to the edge.

“fuck- you know, i bet you’re a pretty good dj in some other univers- oh my god!” your silly quip is cut short by her pushing one finger into you. then another. and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess as you soak her hand as well as the car seat beneath you. her mouth is against your masked ear, shushing your witticism. white rings of cum coat up to her knuckles while her thumb resumes a quick pace on your clit.

banter is over as quiet whimpers replace your usual chatterbox routine. her large fingers feel so much better than your own, and then that’s where she leaves you—fingers curling inside your cunt causing your brain to see stars. your orgasm hits you hard, but not as hard as she does—a rough slap to your face intensifies every sensation, leaving you pained like putty in her grasp as you come down from your high. “don’t got much to say now, huh?”

your eyes focus on her hair and how it twirls up on both sides—the classic hairstyle for any and all wolverine’s across the multiverse. “why do~you style~your hair like that?” your voice slurs with dizzy haze, and laura only looks down at your drunken state quizzically. “were ya going f’ wolf? ‘cause it makes ya look more like a cat. like my little meow meow~”

a growl creeps from the back of her throat before three claws find a home—digging into the flesh on your shoulder.

“shit! you angry ‘bout it, mama?” you ask teasingly before watching her slowly remove her belt. “no- not the belt! i won’t be a naughty girl, i swear!”

“don’t be dramatic,” she scoffs as she tosses the belt aside and straddles you again.

“that’s kinda my job. hashtag drama queen. hashtag full-time. ‘round the clock. just like how your full time job is hiding a fully comic accurate superhero suit under your clothes for when its use comes once every twenty fucking years.”

that switched something in her. she yanks your mask off your head and glares down into your eyes. then a smirk sneaks its way onto her lips. fuck. what does she know that you don’t?

“you think this suit is the only thing i keep under my clothes?” your jaw tenses when laura unzips her pants and allows her strap to spring out to your view. it has to be at least eight to nine inches, the color matches her skin tone and the base of it connects to the black harness buckled around her boxers.

“marvel jesus h. christ! where did you even get that thing? the prop table from the set of alien?!"

you half-expect an answer, but she only lifts your mask and forces a mouthful of the red fabric down your throat, leaving your fear-factored size question hanging in the air. “there… silence is nice. isn’t it?” you’ve lost your voice, but you don’t protest. your frustrated whimpers are muffled and shaky breaths escape through your nose as laura traces her dick up and down your wetted lips. “just relax, beautiful,” she whispers as she slips the tip into you. the tone of her voice is teasing, clearly loving how much power she so easily has over you. pushing in deeper, her pace stays agonizingly slow, as if she’s having to think about controlling every thrust. your eyes follow the grinding movements of her hips and your legs instinctively wrap around her waist. as laura starts to speed up, your backside rubs against the car seat. trying to find a sense of stability, your hands scatter up the butch’s clothed torso and eventually grip her broad shoulders. you can’t help but buck your hips again, no longer ashamed of how fucking needy you look doing so. one of her hands claw at the shoulder of the seat behind you while the other has a strong hold on your hip, guiding your body with hers. guiding soon turns to holding and holding soon turns to pinning. not only is she now chasing her high, but she will do whatever she needs to get to it.

“agh~ fuck. is this what you wanted? to be wrapped around me like this? you’re so pathetic, it’s adorable.”

when all you can do is moan in reply, laura knows she’s fucked you stupid, but still long ways away from being done with you. she suddenly stops altogether and pulls out of you, chuckling quietly when you groan due to your pleasure being delayed. she turns you over and props you up on your knees, then holds you down by the back of the neck with one hand and finds a firm grip on your ass with the other. her relentless thrusts continue, causing a repetitive sound of her hips slamming into the backs of your thighs. every time she pulls back, you follow her dick—leaning to her to chase that friction.

she hits nerve after nerve. the pain hurts too fucking good. your words are still muffled against your ladypool mask, the fabric now damp with saliva and drool. maybe tears as well.

“speak up, princess. ‘s hard to hear you,” laura instructs as she removes the piece from your mouth.

“i… i’m… gonna-” you start before trailing off, finding it hard to focus on words as laura speeds up her pace.

“what, pretty thing? y’ gonna cum?”

“tha-that’s what she said!” of course. of-fucking-course those are the words you can get to leave your stuttering mouth.

“god—do you ever shut the fuck up?” laura groans before tossing your mask to the side and holding your hips steady. when she notices your silence, she leans forward, a hand massaging your tit and her teeth taking a harsh bite at your earlobe. “or maybe you just need to be fucked speechless, don’t you?”

yes. a million times yes.

quiet whimpers leave your lips, the smell of cigars and alcohol mixed with the stench of blood and sex is almost overwhelming. laura slows her pace again, taking her sweet time watching, playing, torturing you for pleasure. that sadistic fuck.

“i do love these cute little noises you’re making, yeh? tell me how good it feels. i know it feels good but i wanna hear you say it—come on. spit it out,” she says into your ear. her lips have gone dry from breathing heavily and sweat trickles down her forehead and nose. the torn fabric of her yellow and navy blue suit rug-burns against your skin from all the excessive movement, but you don’t care. laura pulls your arms behind your back before yanking a seat belt out of its buckles to wrap tightly around your wrists. the rough material hurts, but it’s a good-hurt. when you only let out a porn-styled moan (half-exaggerating to poke fun at her), the wolverine behind you reaches under your neck and grabs your jaw. “you’ not gonna use that mouth?”

“fuck- okay! yes, it feels good. you feel so fucking good. just- please, let me- let me cum!”

and your begs get so easily rewarded. laura must have a soft spot for you because her thrusts speed up again, and this time hit hard with no intention of stopping.

what has little wolvie turned you into, hm? you, ladypool, a beggar? breaking out of character many would argue, but maybe that’s her goal: finding what breaks you.

“not yet. shit- wait ‘til i say.”

the hilt of her strap hits her clit just right as she continues to drive herself into your pretty cunt. as minutes pass and breaths quicken, her metal claws unsheathe and dig themselves into the seat beneath you two. she’s close.

with clamped hands still tied behind your back, you sense that knot in your stomach growing. guttural sounds from the back of the throat slip from laura’s lips, filling your ears as she hits your g-spot again and again, pushing you so quickly towards your release for the second time.

“right there! plea- please, please! i’m… gonna-”

“go on, sweetheart. fucking cum~”

at her words, her command—you feel yourself tighten around her. and your moans must’ve been what did it for her because immediately after—husky groans are heard from behind your bare, trembling body. the heavy weight of a wolverine falls against you, breathing hard onto your skin as her sweat-coated face buries itself into the nape of your neck. a trail of little bite marks, enhanced by her small fangs, are left scattered across your shoulders and upper back.

her middle finger finds your clit again to draw little circles, bringing out pitiful whimpers and post-sex muscle spasms from your worn out body.

“ca- canada…”

your contorted face and senselessness brings her to hum—which is her version of a laugh in this dizzy state. she broke you. and it didn’t take very much, did it?

she turns your chin to look up at her, her face reflecting that drunken haze with the ghost of a smile across her lips. her focus falls to your parted mouth for a moment before finally connecting her lips with yours. the kiss is softer than you expect, as if her hunger’s satisfied, yet the warm taste of cigars and alcohol linger.

“y’ did good, sweetheart.”

just good? must she always be so condescending?

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

spent way too long on this lol comment/repost if you like it, loves !!

this is so gonna flop but idc i wrote it for me and bookie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

taglist: @pr1ncessjo <3

[xoxochb]

Heyooo!!!!! 🫶🏻 could I request a leo x reader where the reader’s on the lifeguard stand and he’s just flirting with her. He just keeps finding excuses to come up to you and starts acting like an idiot in the ocean so you pay attention to him 😭 He’s totally the kinda guy to pretend to drown so he can get a ‘kiss’ lol

The others are like dude she’s just gonna ignore you, but the reader actually starts to flirt back. (Maybe they’re already friends or maybe not idk) And it’s just the two of them going back and forth with bad pick-up lines and stuff

Just a cute story about how the two got together ☀️🏖️

⋆·˚ ༘ * oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

warnings: kissing, but it’s nothing graphic

pairing: leo valdez x fem lifeguard reader

“you wanna hear a pickup line?”

you sigh when you hear the voice, “sure”

“you must be the reason for global warming because you’re hot”

“I’m flattered” you roll your eyes

“wait I have another one”

“of course you do”

“are you the eiffel tower? because I fell (eiffel) for you”

“leo, that’s so overused” you run your fingers down your face

“I’ve got another-”

you cut him off “no you don’t”

he sighs “wanna swim with me?”

“I’m on duty” you cross your arms

“you could always take a break” he suggested

“and lose my job? I don’t think so” you remarked

“okay… well I’ll just swim by myself I guess” he kicks the sand

“okay” you state

he walks away, and you know is plan. He’s done it many times, he’s going to pretend to drown so you can save him

you watch as he tries to pretend that he can’t swim, occasionally falling into the water, and with a sigh you get up from your seat and walk to the shore

when you get there you see him come up from the water, coughing, and when he sees you he starts fake coughing more

“y/n” he says between coughs “I can’t breathe, I think I need mouth to mouth”

“oh yes, I think that’s a good idea, let me come to you” you walk over to him in the water

once your close enough to him you put your hands on his shoulders, and you know your plan is working when he leans in, thinking his plan will work

you place a hand over his mouth, “you earn it”

he takes your hand away and frowns “I’ll do anything”

“anything?” you smirk

he averts his gaze from your eyes to your lips, “yes”

“go underwater for one minute without coming up for air” you say quietly

he thinks for a second, “I’ll do it”

“great!” you clap your hands

he takes a deep breath and then he goes underwater. After thirty seconds he comes up for air

“was that a minute?” he asks smiling

“thirty seconds” you reply

“then I earn half a prize?” he requests

“that’s not how it works, try again”

and he does

six more times, and when he reaches the seventh time he finally reaches sixty seconds

“I did it! do I earn a kiss now?” he smiles

“It’s not that simple” you laugh

he fakes a pout

“I don’t feel bad for you”

he pretends to fake cry

“don’t be stupid leo” you smack his head

“this is unfair, I almost drowned and this is how I’m treated?” he says

“cry me a river”

“just one kiss, that’s it” he says

you sigh and think for a second. who are you to say no to him? after a year of him doing everything in his power to win you over, which includes him risking his life, he deserves this.

you kiss him, and you swear you’ve never seen anyone so eager to kiss back in your life

after a few seconds you try to pull away but he quickly tangles his hand in your hair to keep you close, and you let him, you’ve secretly wanted this since you met him

you wrap your arms around his neck and he moves his arms to your waist. you knew you only agreed to one kiss but you’ve yearned for this, and he earned it after all those months

you begin to wonder why you waited this long, but at this point nothing else matters but the boy who’s lips are pressed to your own

[heartbreakgrill]

sleepy-head; pedro pascal.

a/n: fluffy falling asleep on set idk, not edited, no warnings. enjoy sweet friends

i stood lopsidedly- left knee bent, hand propped on my waist, and backpack slouched off my shoulder. my head hung low, eyes boring a deep hole into the dirty ground. i fluttered my lashes, in a lane attempt to keep them wide open. with a slight sway to the side, i worried i was going to completely pass out, right then and there.

then, the director yelled out a sharp, clear, "cut!"

i flinched, back straightening like the edge of a knife. i swear i heard something crack in my bones. i tugged the backpack up my shoulder and glanced around me. i met bella's eyes and they made a face, "you alright?"

i shook my head lightly, awakening my face, "tired." i reached an arm into the sky and stretched.

bella approached me, letting their own backpack slide down their shoulder and into their hand. "dude, me, too. i'm ready for today to be over."

"unfortunately," we fell into step off set, "we have a few more hours to go."

"fortunately," they added, mocking my tone, "we have exactly one hour until we have to be back right here. i am going to stuff my face with craft services."

bella's steps grew quicker as they started to bee-line for the food table. "wanna come?" bella offered.

i waved her off, "if i eat anything, i'm going to pass out."

they snorted, "go find a hole to take a nap in."

i managed a small chuckle at the response. maybe that was actually a really good idea. i set my book bag on the prop table; my trailer was a fifteen minute golf-cart ride from here. if i hopped on one right now, i have 30 minutes before i needed to get back on set. not to mention the fact that i needed to be back even earlier for hair and makeup touch ups, and notes from the director. that left maybe fifteen minutes for a nap.

but if i curled up in a corner somewhere, i'd have a good 40 minutes.

i shrugged off my jacket, peering around the set. i met eyes with people every now and again, offered sleep-ridden smiles in their direction. eventually, i settled on the couch in the corner of the room, parallel to a few chairs. it was a small resting place meant for guests, cast and crew members. i headed towards it with a heavy sigh. my feet hurt so bad.

as i approached, i opened my phone up and set a timer for thirty minutes. just in case. i plopped down onto the couch, slipped off my costume combat boots, and curled up in a ball. with my jacket lain across my body, my eyes shut as soon as my head hit the arm rest.

the noises slowly faded from my hearing, becoming muted murmurs in my distant, fuzzy memory. it was one of those weird naps, where i wasn't really asleep, but i definitely was not conscious. i felt my breathing even, a comfortable, monotonous rhythm circulating my system.

i don't know how long passed, but i jutted awake with a shocking pop of open eyes. my shoulders flinched a bit, and i sucked in a breath. i rubbed at my eyes gently, trying not to disturb the makeup there, and glanced around me.

bella had joined me on the couch, sitting at my feet with a bag of chips in their clutches. they were humming to themselves, watching tiktok's on their phone. after registering her presence, i looked ahead, where pedro was sitting, also eating a bag of chips and watching videos on his phone.

i shuffled a bit, lifting myself onto my seat, leg still curled up, beneath me. bella's snapped towards me, "good morning, sunshine. did you have a nice sleep?"

i rubbed my cheeks with either palms, then rested my head in my hands. "oh, god. that felt good, actually." lies.

bella gave me a thumbs up before going back to their phone. they were a human of few words. a silly, adorable human.

i glanced forward again and met pedro's eyes. his attention was lifted from his phone to me, now. he offered a sweet smile. "you doing okay?"

i shrugged, head pounding with exhaustion and restless napping. "just really tired."

my eyes flickered to my left as bella stood, engrossed in technology, and walked off to who knows where. i looked back to pedro.

he jutted his bottom lip slightly, a sympathetic expression. "i'm sorry," he glanced back at his phone, "you've still got thirty five minutes until we've gotta get back. why don't you lay down again?"

"it's okay," i shut the alarm off on my phone. "i'll be fine. this couch isn't comfortable, anyways."

pedro stood slowly, crossing the distance between us, and sat beside me. "no, you're right. this shit sucks," he laughed lamely.

i giggled at his words, "told you so."

pedro hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the furniture. then, he looked down at his lap. pedro set his chips and phone down beside him, shrugged off his jacket, and balled it up in his lap.

"here," he waved lazily, "lay your head down."

i eyed the make-shift pillow. was that going to be weird? i was so tired, i couldn't care less about nicety rules with my coworkers.

i smiled sleepily at him, lowering my head into his lap, "thank you," i murmured.

he rested his right arm across the back of the couch, and balanced his phone on the arm rest, going back to whatever he was doing. "no worries, sugar. i'll wake you when it's time."

i was beyond tired- but i didn't not notice the little butterfly wing that fluttered in my stomach when he called me that.

i passed out this time, though, completely snoozing away in dream-land, until i felt a strong hand clasp my shoulder and gently shake. his touch was warm, seeping through my costume and onto my skin like the gentle lick of a flame. pedro's voice spoke carefully close to my ear, "y/n? hermosa? they're calling us back to set."

i breathed deeply, eyes fluttering open. the first thing i saw were a pair of deep, dark chocolate eyes, shining golden under some of the set lights. my lips curled into a lazy smile, involuntarily. i sat up, feeling a hand softly on my back, supporting me.

"thanks for that," i stretched. "it helped a lot."

pedro's hands dropped into his lap, "i'm really glad." he went to say something else, but one of the makeup artists was approaching us, his large makeup bin in tow.

"y/n, i don't know what you did, but i need to fix that," sebastian waved a hand around my face with a disgusted look.

pedro and i shared a laugh. "i'm sorry, seb. thanks again, pedro."

he nodded, and waved as i got up and followed sebastian to a chair and vanity set up. i settled into the seat, eyes opened a little wider from the rest i'd gotten. as sebastian went to work on my face, my eyes followed pedro's reflection in the mirror. he stood from the couch, brushed his hands off on his pants, like they were sweaty or something. he mumbled something to himself, took a deep breath, and started his way towards set.

i scoffed out a short laugh. sebastian drew his hand back, brows furrowed, "what?"

i shook my head, "nothing."

pedro was kinda hot.

—

two weeks later.

i hugged my legs to my chest, apple of my cheek rested upon the crevice of my knee. a soft scratching noise emitted from the stick that i was dragging across the ground. i followed it in a loop with my eyes until i finished the little stick figure i was drawing.

bella's phone volume lifting snapped me out of my daze. i looked to them, watched them laugh at some video.

"y/n!" they stepped towards me, flipping their phone screen to face me, "we have to do this."

i watched the dance video she showed me, and groaned when it ended. "noooooo," i shoved my forehead against my knees. "i can't dance. you know this."

bella shrugged me off, "i don't care. we're doing it later."

"fine," i gave in. it didn't take much to sway my opinion. the videos bella always made me do with them were fun. i looked forward to the days she'd ask me to make them.

she was my little friend.

pedro interjected, "what is it?"

bella showed him, "dance video were gonna make. i'd invite you, peepaw, but i think you'd break a hip."

i snorted, covering my grinning mouth with my hand. pedro glared at me, playfully flipping both of us off. "whatever. i didn't wanna be a part of it anyways."

my eyes lingered as on his hand as it dropped to his side. his palms were ginormous, fingers long and slender. pedro wasn't excessively fit, but there were still veins snaking beneath his skin.

bella cleared their throat, kicking my shoe gently. "hello? earth to y/n?"

my glazed eyes shut, and i shook my head of the moment. "what? sorry?"

"nevermind. it doesn't matter. are you that tired?" bella plopped down onto the step beside me.

i rubbed my eye slightly, a clear sign that i was exhausted. maybe that's why my mind kept wandering... i nodded in confirmation to bella's question.

pedro sat criss-cross in front of us. he shrugged off his backpack and jacket. "it's been a long week. but we're almost done, honey. just hang in there."

i smiled kindly at his encouragement. "yeah, then two days off, right? i'm so looking forward to that."

pedro and bella nodded. my latter co-star unlocked their phone again, "me, too."they were over the conversation. person of few words, like i said.

pedro glanced at them as their phone volume rang through the beat of silence. he met my eyes and rolled his playfully. i giggled.

pedro leaned back on his palms, head dipping back as he admired the ceiling of the set room we were in. a comfortable silence succumbed us.

i shoved my head into my knees again, letting my eyes fall shut. my breathing became automatic as i entered a dismal state of being.

after a few moments, i felt a hand wrap it's fingers around my wrist. pedro squeezed, tugging my arm from the hold around my legs. i lifted my head, meeting his very closely countered gaze. he was on his knees before me. "yeah?"

pedro pointed beside me, where his jacket was wrapped around his book bag in a faux-pillowed manner. "lay your head down, sugar."

my chest inflated, a rush of heat kissing my cheeks. "o-okay. thanks."

pedro let go of my wrist as i turned, curling into a ball on my side. his backpack felt comfortable beneath my head. i passed out quickly. i woke up, probably fifteen minutes later, to a set of voices sharing a muted conversation, short whispers in the dim light.

"dude, you look so creepy," bella hissed.

pedro huffed out a reply, "shut up."

bella quickly countered with, "you're very openly staring a hole into her face! how can i not comment on that?"

i heard a scuffle as pedro probably adjusted his seating. "i can't help. she's very pretty."

bella awed, quite loudly. pedro shushed her quickly. "that's so cute. wait- do you have, like, a thing for her? wait, you do! oh, my god-"

"i'm walking away now," another shuffle as pedro stood. "forget this ever happened."

"pedro, no! come back!" bella stood, too, following after him.

my eyes slowly opened, a humiliatingly ginormous grin on my mouth. i covered my face with my hands. i was blushing.

okay, yeah there was something there.

–

two weeks later.

i groaned loudly, twisting my pillow around beneath my head for the thousandth time. i felt tears prickle at the back of my exhausted eyes, and a frustrated scream lodge itself in my throat. sniffling furiously, i took short, quick breaths.

for someone who was always falling asleep on set, i sure as hell had a difficult time doing so in my own damn bed.

i sat up, clutching the covers around my bare shoulders. i had shed my clothes a while ago, during some strange hot flash. but now i was shivering, skin lingered with warm goosebumps. i think i had a fever.

grabbing my phone, i checked the time. 3:45am. i had to be up at 6am to film something with bella. i held down the button and my flashlight lit up my room. my phone plopped onto the bed as i stood. i tugged a hoodie on and some pants before quickly hitting the light switch. my eyes screamed and head pounded from the brightness. i grabbed my phone again and turned off the flashlight.

i rummaged around in the medicine cabinet above my tiny sink. there was a thing of ibuprofen, and my hands shook as i tore it open, popping a few pills. i draw swallowed and they scratched my already sore throat. there was not thermometer, however.

i moved quietly, out of my trailer, the door squeaking on the hinges a little too loud. there were a few crew members littering the makeshift streets. there was probably a night shoot happening. i never paid attention to the schedule unless it pertained to me.

the medical tent was a good fifteen minute golf cart ride, but there were none stationed where they normally would. i would just have to walk.

my feet padded against the pavement, slippers scuffing harshly. i drug my fingers against other trailers for support, but when the row of buildings came to an end, i had to hold myself up. i felt like i was going to pass out- everything ached, including my stomach. i wanted to fall into the pavement, curl into a decrepit ball, and die there.

my arms latched around my body, holding me together tightly. i was certain my eyes were completely shut. maybe i was even going in the opposite direction. i didn't know how far i had walked when i ran into someone's solid chest.

hands clutched at my shoulders, rushed, worried words gently coaxing my eyes open. "y/n, cariño? are you okay? what's wrong? y/n, what's wrong? cmon, talk to me, sugar."

my eyes flitted, somehow peeling themselves open. pedro's furrowed brows were the first thing i noticed, and his rambling lips the next. i sighed, pushing my body into his clothes. he took hold of my weight as my knees gave out a bit more.

he wrapped one arm around my back, fingers wrapped around my bicep. his other came to my forehead. "jesus, you're burning up. here-"

my stomach turned as he lifted me up in his arms, temperature hand scooping up my legs. "where are we going?" i slurred, on the precipice of passing out.

"medical tent, sugar. need to get you checked out," pedro whispered, lips close to my ear.

"i feel tired."

"that's okay," he soothed, "go to sleep. it'll be okay. i've gotchu, hermosa."

my head lolled back, resting on his shoulder, as i gave in to the darkness.

when i woke up, i was laying in a hospital bed, papery sheets wrapped tightly around my lower body. my left arm flinched, and i felt wires tug at my skin. on my body was a hospital gown, an iv, and a knit blanket overtop of the issued ones. then, my eyes flittered around the room, narrowed in the bright, fluorescent lighting that covered me.

pedro.

he was in the chair beside my bed, slid down enough that his head could rest on the back of it. his legs were spread out, slumped from his state of sleep. pedro's lips were parted slightly as his even breaths pulled in and out, and his arms were crossed over his chest.

i settled for a second, admiring how peaceful he looked. but, then the beeping of the machines next to me broke me out of my trance. i glanced around again, finding the bed's remote, and raised the head of it so i could sit up properly. pedro shuffled in the chair, groaning as his eyes popped open.

he rubbed at his sockets, sliding back up in his seat. "oh, you're awake," pedro spoke, voice raspy from sleep. okay, that was hot.

i set down the remote, hands clasping each other in my lap. "i just woke up. so, was my fever that bad?"

"it was 104, y/n," pedro leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees. "i took you to the medical tent, they took your temp, and then shoved you into the ambulance. i was barely able to hop in before they shut the doors and drove away."

i took a shaky breath. i felt a million times better than i had- but i was still sick. i could tell by the raspiness of my breathing, the ache in my bones. "is it covid? where's your mask? you shouldn't be here-"

"hermosa," he clasped a large hand around my own, "i'm not going anywhere. and it's not covid. just a bad case of the flu."

i twisted my fingers through his. "thank god. what time is it even? how long was i out?"

pedro laughed shortly, "it's actually sunday. you've been in an out of consciousness for a day and a half. but they think you can go home tomorrow."

"shit," i sat up a bit, "what about the show? shouldn't you be filming?"

pedro braced a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back against the bed. "don't even dare think about getting up. they've shut down set for the rest of the week to do some cleaning. just relax, cariño."

i huffed, but relaxed back into the bed. pedro squeezed my hand twice. my other hand balled up a fistful of the knit blanket. it was incredibly soft. pedro watched as i stuck my fingers through its holes, fiddling with it anxiously.

"who's blanket is this, anyways?" i asked.

the corner of his lips lifted into his cheeks, "mine. it was over my shoulder when you passed out in my arms. i accidentally brought it with us and just figured you could use it."

i smiled sweetly at him, "thanks. what were you doing with it on set? is it a prop?"

"hermosa, you ask an incredible amount of questions," he hung his head. "but, i thought that you were going to be shooting with us last night. got the schedule mixed up. i brought it for you."

the blood rushed to my cheeks. i wanted to ask why, but i already knew why. for when i fell asleep. i squeezed his hand twice and we shared an ardent gaze.

–

one week later.

"hey, cariño, you feeling better?"

it was my first day back on set since i had been sick. it was a 12 hour schedule, of course, and i was feeling exhausted. i was sitting up against a wall, one leg stretched out before me, and the other curved against my body. pedro squatted before me, leaning in close with a concerned expression.

i brushed my hair behind my ear, "yeah, i'm doing alright. sleepy, as per usual."

pedro chuckled, "figured as much."

"hey, you wouldn't happen to have that blanket, would ya?" i joked, nudging his foot with my own.

"actually..."

pedro pushed up off his knees, and i watched him round the corner, towards where our set chairs were. i couldn't see him anymore. i waited two minutes, before he came back around the corner, cradling that red knit blanket.

he squatted down again, and dropped onto his knees. pedro lay the blanket out over me lovingly. i blushed deeply, engulfed in warmth, and the sweet smell of his cologne.

"wow, uh...thanks," i grinned.

pedro settled against the wall, beside me. "no worries, hermosa."

a beat of silence passed. i wrestled with my thoughts. then, i made a decision and opened the blanket, setting it across his lap. "come on," i offered. 

pedro pushed closer, shoulder pressing against mine, as the blanket covered both of us. "is this uncomfortable, though? it's kinda small-"

i bravely took his arm and wrapped it around my shoulder. he came closer, if at all possible. the blanket easily covered us both, now. "there. we made it work."

pedro looked down at me, a cheeky smile on his lips. his eyes were tired, fit with dark bags. i looked away, only to grab my phone and set an alarm. "twenty minutes okay?" i spoke softly.

pedro nodded, "okay."

i curled up into his side, placing my head in the crevice of his shoulder. i felt the weight of his own head as he rested it overtop my own.

my phone woke us twenty minutes later, shocking my system with a rapid heart rate and wide, alarmed eyes. pedro pulled away, sadly, arms stretching above his head. my body was colder in the spots he had touched, like a ghost linger there now.

"feel better?" i yawned into my palm.

pedro rubbed his sleepy eyes. "actually, yes, i do. i get why you do that so much. might have to go it more. although, i'm sure i won't look half as pretty as you do during it."

no words formed in my throat. my mind went blank, as my face heated up. i just stared at him, and i'm sure my eyes were wide, and my smile cheeky.

pedro tilted his head curiously, "you're beautiful, cariño."

i licked my bottom lip, as if lubrication would help the words come easier. "uh- than. thanks you. thank. you."

pedro just admired me for a moment before he reached forward and brushed hair behind my ear. his fingers lingered on my cheek, where he brushed his thumb over the apple of my face. he went to say something else, when a loud voice interrupted us.

"alright, people. let's get this wrapped up!" the director.

we dissipated, disappointed that the moment ended.

–

one month later.

"no, we have to match," i whined to bella, adjusting the santa hat on my head carefully.

they rolled their eyes at my reflection with the matching hat in their hands. "ugh, why?"

"because you always make me do these tiktok's and shit with you. you have to do something for me for once," i argued.

bella lazily tugged the hat on, hands falling flat at their sides. "happy?"

i squealed and clapped my hands together in excitement. "yes! oh, my gosh, so cute!"

bella wore a pair of flannel pj bottoms, red and green, with a green shirt that said, 'the humbug one.' i had on the same bottoms, but with a matching red shirt with the words, 'the jolly one.'

i had bella for secret santa, and i gifted them with the matching pjs. they complained when they unwrapped a large box and saw the pjs inside. little did they know, i had another, much nicer present. but, this was an added bonus just for my amusement.

the cast and crew christmas party was happening down at craft services. i had helped decorate yesterday, decking out the usually bland space with lights, strands of garland, and plenty of faux snow.

"cmon, we don't want to be late," i rushed bella with the wave of my hand.

they rolled their eyes again, but led us out of the trailer anyways. i knew bella secretly enjoyed this. they were like my little sibling.

as we approached craft services, christmas music tuned into our ears, along with the cherry murmur of cast and crew members mingling over cups of eggnog. my steps became a little lighter as i took it all in. everyone was dressed up in pjs or strange costumes, like the grinch or a christmas tree. i just knew my camera roll would be full after this.

bella spotted nico in the crowd and quickly ditched me for her. they looked back at me for a split second and stuck their tongue out, "see you later, loser."

i scoffed loudly, "what the hell!"

left in the dust, i crossed my arms and stepped over my own halted feet forward. i ran into sebastian first, who was nursing a very large sugar cookie cocktail.

"hello, gorgeous," he shook the bell on the end of my hat.

"hi, seb," i giggled. "that looks yummy."

"here, i'll get you one!" he offered enthusiastically, turning towards the table beside us.

my eyes rolled over his shoulder, where i noticed pedro was standing at the other end of the table with nick. pedro wore this ugly christmas sweater, mandelorian themed, with a pair of jeans. he had his glasses on, too, a small detail that made my stomach flutter. pedro had a whiskey glass in his left hand, and his right hung loosely in his front pocket. he was talking gently, grinning at whatever they were talking about. i wonder who his secret santa was.

my eyes lingered a second longer before sebastian popped back up in front of me. he held out a cocktail. i smiled, "thank you so much. hey, who'd you get for the secret santa thing?"

sebastian took a small sip of his drink, "murray bartlett. got him this blue scarf and glove set. looks gorgeous with his eyes."

i nodded, eyes flickering between him and pedro. a distant look, i'm sure, crossed my face. "oh, awesome. and who had you?"

sebastian tried to meet my eyes, but they focused in on pedro. he turned slightly, following my gaze. "0h, my god," he laughed. "knew it."

i wasn't paying attention. "who?"

sebastian's reply was laughed, "someone from the camera crew- girl, you're down so bad."

"uh-huh," i rolled my bottom lip between my teeth.

pedro's head fell back as he laughed, and when he straightened it, his eyes finally met mine. his smile widened, if at all possible, as he seemed to withdraw from the conversation and enter a space, encased with only me.

nick looked my way, brows furrowed with confusion. when he saw me, his brows then raised in understanding. he and sebastian shared an annoyed, humored look.

sebastian's hand touched my back, and he gently shoved me forward. my feet, which had been aching to make that journey forward, caught themselves and continued. nick patted pedro's shoulder lovingly, muttering some goodbye, and he walked away. 

as i settled in front of pedro, a shiver rippled down my back. i let out a breathy, "hey."

pedro looked utterly taken, and he tilted his chin down, "hermosa."

"so," i swayed side to side slightly, grasping at some topic, "who had you for secret santa?"

pedro replied, "nick. got me some whiskey and this really nice jacket."

"oh, awesome," i finally took my eyes off his, nodding at my feet. but, like magnets, we met again.

"who'd you have?" pedro swung his elbow, lightly jabbing me.

i found bella in the crowd and pointed towards them. "bella. made them wear these stupid pajamas with me. i haven't given them the actual gift, which is a ginormous gift basket with all their favorite snacks and stuff like that."

pedro whistled, "damn, cariño. now i'm kinda wishing you were my secret santa."

"ha," i laughed, "yeah, well i haven't gotten anything yet, so i'm not going to be gifting anybody else...that's a lie, i'll make you a gift basket."

pedro said, "no, no, no," and braced his hand on my bicep. it was warm, like i remembered, "don't worry about that. your secret santa is just...waiting, hermosa. for the right moment."

i tilted my head, "waiting? what? how do you...oh."

pedro's smile was knowing. his hand stayed on my arm, sliding down my forearm, to my  fingers. he intertwined them with his own. "i think this moment feels right. cmon."

he turned to stand beside me. with a gentle tug of my hand, we moved forward, away from the party, and to his trailer.

"are you going to kill me?" i joked.

pedro shook his head, laughing, "no, i promise. i just-" he held the door open, "wanted this to be for just us."

i had the smallest inclination, but i tried not to get my hopes up. my chest inflated anyways, full of thrill.

when we stepped inside, pedro grabbed a wrapped present from the counter. "this is the first present."

"the first? wow. you didn't-"

"don't start with that, hermosa,” he shushed me, and motioned to the couch. “just open it.”

i pressed my lips together, a grin growing on my face. “okay.”

i took a seat with him on the couch and set the present on my lap. my fingers shook slightly as i began to peel off the christmas wrapping paper. “oh, i like the little cats,” i laughed as i stopped to admire the various patterned animal on the paper.

pedro nodded, “i knew you would.”

my heart was melting.

i peeled more of the paper away, revealing a large, knit blanket. “you didn’t!” i gasped, shaking off the paper. “i hate you!”

pedro laughed as i quickly started tearing off the packaging. i unrolled the blanket, and wrapped it around my shoulders, basking in the softness.

“oh, i did,” he remarked.

i sighed in the embrace of the blanket, “it’s so warm, i could fall asleep right here.”

“why are you always so tired?” pedro shook my shoulders crazily, teasing me.

i laughed, and situated some of the blanket on his lap. “i don’t know! i just am, i guess.”

“worries me,” he rubbed a hand over the blanket that was on my thigh.

i shifted under his touch, nervous again. “well, thank you for this.”

“okay, next present,” pedro clapped his hands together.

he reached for a smaller square, wrapped in the same paper, on the coffee table. i tilted my head, exasperated by his kind favors. “thank you, pedro.”

“just open it already.”

i did as he asked. under the paper was a picture collage, with a few different pictures of us. the day i first fell asleep with my head in his lap; the day i overheard him and bella talking about me; him by side at the hospital, holding my hand; the time we fell asleep under the blanket together.

i sucked in a gasp of breath, “wow! who took all of these?”

pedro laughed, “bella.”

i rolled my eyes in response. “should’ve known. this is so sweet. i can’t wait to hang it up at home.”

pedro hesitated, before laying out some careful wording, “i wanted you to have these pictures because they’re sweet, yes. but, hermosa, i wanted you to be able to see me falling in love with you. i didn’t notice it at first, until bella sent me these pictures last week. but, i know now- it’s there.”

i met his eyes, my own vision watery from admiration. i set the frame down and took his hand in my own, “im so happy right now. i don’t think you’re ever going to top this gift.”

we shared a small laugh. i looked back to the picture frame and continued admiring it. then, he squeezed my hand twice, as a few beats of silence passed between us. “hermosa?”

“yeah?” i looked back to him. he raised his brows, waiting expectantly. i realized, and my eyes widened, “oh! i love you! yeah, i do, i’m sorry, i thought i said, but i guess i forgot to. i love you so fucking much, pedro.”

he rolled his eyes, but burst into singing laughter. “i can’t believe you!”

“i’m sorry, i’m tired!”

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

friday, kim taerae— select choir

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 2.7k

⋆˙⟡ reader: just one gn!reader version for this (no pronouns are used at all to describe reader; reader is describe as having a "pretty" mouth but no gendered or femme language)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ friday summary: it's the end of the most bizarre week of your life. last year, you would've been overjoyed to spend time in select choir with your friend kim taerae. but that all went down the drain after hanbin recruited him into his group of incessant jerks... and he's desperate to officially be one of the guys.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. the lore for taerae is so SAD. i'll make sure his ending is happy, i promise. also we've got a ft. hanbin chapter but just in digital form.

⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★★ (5.0)

(idk the bully scale is subjective but like imagine your best friend saying this shit about you WHY IS HE DOING THAT OMG jk i know why and soon you will too)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: oral, (taerae receiving), throat fucking (reader receiving), brief handjob and heavy petting (taerae receiving), cumming without warning in mouth, filming of sexual act, voyeur!hanbin, slight dubcon but like for both of them kind of idk you'll see but it's slight, bullying, the usual.

friday.

you should be elated that this week is nearly over. and you are. mostly, anyway. 

but there was an indescribable thrill to all this that you couldn’t seem to shake. all that talk of ravens yesterday had got you thinking...

 why did you dislike ravens in the first place?

thinking. crying. haphazardly finishing all of your assignments due friday that you’d procrastinated the whole week. urgent texts to and from mina after her ✨jiwoong oppa✨ stood her up for their date.

one thing was for certain: you desperately need sleep.

that’s why you’re currently falling asleep sitting up, hard-back music folder open in your hands as professor yoo works with the bass section. the lowest notes of “requiem” are soft and soothing and, for you at this sleep-deprived moment, very dangerous. 

luckily a sharp elbow to the shoulder jolts the drowsiness right out of you.

you look to your left to find kim taerae giving you one of the most judgmental glares you’ve ever earned in your life.

you would expect nothing less from him.

at one time a judgmental glare from taerae was the equivalent of a hug. you returned the gesture happily. and also threw in some hugs whenever he’d let you. he squirmed a bit, but the big smile that would grow on his face made it all worth it.

but there’s no warmth behind his eyes now. just a sharp elbow pointed at you, threatening to strike again if you didn’t shape up quick enough.

“you’re gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns with a frown.

you roll your eyes. “why do you care?”

“because, unfortunately, some people still think we’re friends,” he says, making thin lines with his pencil on a page of his sheet music. “and i don’t want to suffer the social consequences of your embarrassing actions.”

“mm,” you agree wordlessly. “guess i should’ve thought of that myself.”

he doesn’t respond for a few moments, eyes focused on his sheet music until an audible sigh comes from his direction. “why are you so tired anyway? s’not like you.”

“for all you know, it could be,” you retort with a huff. “maybe i’m a real night owl now. maybe i’m out partying or smoking or... something.”

taerae snorts. “jiwoong hyung was not lying about those tragic acting skills.”

“oh, fuck off,” you reply.

his eyes widen. and then promptly squint with suspicion. “since when did you swear like that?”

you frown, trying to discern what he could mean. hadn’t you always been this uninhibited with your tongue? 

the answer was no. you hadn’t. and this new speech pattern of yours had a very specific origin: monday afternoon. you exhale a chuckle. maybe you had yet to realize the full extent of how this week has changed you.

and how your desire to change back continues to dwindle.

you just shrug, returning your focus to your music. you feel taerae’s eyes on you as you track your vocal section’s part in “requiem”.

you and taerae had purposefully chosen seats next to each other in choir last year so that you could goof off together during every possible free moment. it was also convenient for your parents, who always wanted to get pictures of you two together during concerts ever since high school.

now you wish you went to different universities altogether.

ironically, you might’ve had a better chance of remaining friends if you’d had distance. but you and taerae disagreed quite adamantly at the time.

halfway through your two-hour rehearsal, you’re allowed a fifteen minute break to grab water and stretch your legs. you always wander off down the empty storage hallway, where your favorite vending machine is hidden in plain sight— the one with the oreos and cheez-its and bugles in it. 

pulling out your debit card, you insert the chip into the machine and punch in the number for the snack of your choosing. you watch happily as it falls down from it’s spiral prison into the dispenser below. you start to bend down when a hand reaches in before you and grabs your snack.

“hey, what the—…” you trail off as you come face to face with a cavernous dimple. “give it back. now.”

“you’re so touchy today,” taerae condemns with a click of his tongue. he holds your snack high above his head, dangling it in a challenge. “seriously, what’s gotten into you this week?”

“oh, you know exactly what,” you huff, reaching for the snack in vain.

taerae laughs. “i guess a better question would be: what hasn’t gotten into you this week?”

“you’re so fucking funny,” you snap, fingers finally closing around the wrapper as you yank it down. 

taerae’s brow is raised in surprise, not really caring about the repossession of the snack. “seriously, i’m not used to you swearing like that. i’m not sure if i like it.”

“i assumed there was nothing you liked about me anymore,” you retort, tearing open your snack and shoveling the processed glory down your throat.

“that’s not true,” he replies, hand suddenly reaching to your face. he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, a crumb transferring from you to him. he brings his thumb to his own lips and tastes it. “i still like your pretty mouth.”

when you finally manage to pick your jaw up off the ground, you shake your head. “i know you don’t think of me like that.”

“uh...” taerae mumbles awkwardly, glancing at the row of shelves behind you. “sure, i do.”

“oh yeah? how about mina’s pool party two years ago? when we—.”

“OH, actually you—,” he interjects urgently, glaring at you to shut up. normally you would. but after this week, you no longer feel bound to quiet compliance. “you don’t need to—.”

“—were playing spin the bottle and it landed on me and you threw up in the pool because you were so disgusted by the mere thought of kissing me—”

his lips crash onto yours, hand cupping your cheek. it’s a demanding, yet tentative kiss and you’re even more confused when it ends.

you take a step backward, folding your arms across your chest. 

“can you just—...” taerae grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him, glancing again at the row of shelves behind you. “yes, that’s perfect.”

“what’s perfect?” you ask with a frown, starting to grow immune to strange behavior after the week you’ve had.

“oh, um.... you,” taerae answers after a moment with a smirk. “you were always so perfect, (y/n). perfect grades. perfect manners. perfect body. i used to jump at the chance to sleep over when your mom would let me. you used to beg her until she finally said yes, because she knew you'd never misbehave. remember, honey?"

eyes wide at the dark shift in his tone, you nod slowly.

“you were so innocent... you slept shirtless, for fuck's sake. peacefully dreaming, while i pretended to be asleep on the floor,” he continues, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “hoping i wouldn't wake you up if i just lifted the covers to get a peek."

when you thought the worst of your pain this week was over…

“tae,” you breathe, eyes watering— pleading for this not to be true. it couldn’t be. at least... not in the vulgar way he was describing it. "you don't mean that."

at the sound of your despair, there's a momentary flash in his eyes. regret. you still know him like the back of your hand.

“why are you doing this?” you ask, hands flying to cup either side of his face. he flinches, trying his best not to look you in the eye again. trying not to let you see. “you don’t have to be my friend anymore if you really don’t want to. but i don’t know why you want to be like them when you’re miles better than they’ll ever—.”

“alright, that’s enough.”

the muffled, tinny voice comes out of nowhere. you look around your immediate surroundings, trying to discern where it came from.

“c’mon, you were doing so well,” the voice rings again. “you said you had this under control, bud. was i wrong to put my trust in you?”

“no, hyung,” taerae answers, shaking his head. “i—… i can do it.”

“hanbinnie?” you ask and then cough awkwardly to cover up the fact you just called your arch nemesis so affectionately. yesterday must’ve gotten to you more than you know. “i mean, hanbin-ah! what the actual hell is going on?”

“no need to worry about it, sweetheart,” hanbin’s voice dismisses again. taerae’s eyes dart towards the shelves behind you once more. you follow his gaze— jaw dropping when you see two camera lenses staring back at you. 

“what—...” you fumble, shaking your head in disbelief as you look at the back of taerae’s phone— propped up with a black music folder. “you’re recording this!?”

“afraid so,” hanbin answers for taerae. “i didn’t really think he could follow through without some supervision. don’t mind me though. unless you just can’t help yourself...”

while at the beginning of this week a situation as perverted and bizarre as this would’ve had your whole nervous system shutting down, you’re still standing tall. present in this strange moment. you smirk.

“aw, tae,” you coo mockingly, turning to your former friend. “how sentimental of you...”

a brow arches in confusion back at you. “what are you––?”

“of course you’d wanna capture such a special moment on camera,” you continue with a patronizing nod. “it’s not every day that you lose your virginity.”

“HEY THAT’S—…” taerae starts to yell at you for sharing this embarrassing personal detail that you’re sure he never disclosed to hanbin. “that’s… that’s not true.”

“oh come on, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you twist the metaphorical knife as hanbin stifles a laugh. “i’d be happy to help you out with that, since i was the one who had to listen to you whine for four years about how you were still. a. fucking—”

two fingers are down your throat in an instant. you gag, trying to step backwards, but taerae’s hand finds the back of your head— holding you in place. he removes his fingers slowly, pupils dilating when you whimper in fear.

“i’ve decided i don’t like the swearing,” he says, a sickening hint of sweetness in his tone. any upperhand you had is now gone as he traces your lips with his thumb. “such a pretty mouth. those filthy words shouldn’t be coming out of it.”

“y-you don’t get to decide that,” you stammer unconvincingly.

“so that’s what you really want, then?” he asks, sticking his thumb further into your mouth. you suck obediently. “you wanna have a filthy mouth?”

you nod, his thumb still pressed against your tongue— cheeks hollowed out as taerae bites his lip hungrily.

“then you can have it,” he says before removing his thumb from your mouth and pressing down on your neck and shoulder— forcing you to your knees in front of him. you guess joining the soccer team had really improved his strength. “just remember it’s what you said you wanted.”

taerae unbuttons his jeans, pulling the zipper down. he freezes, clearly unsure of what to do next. maybe this is your opportunity to wiggle your way out of this. if only your curiosity wasn’t equally as strong.

“we––... i have to audition after this,” you protest weakly. “when break’s over, i have to audition for the solo i’ve been prepping for so i want to keep my voice warm right now and—.”

“ah, that’s right. i did forget about that,” he affirms, looking up at the ceiling in thought before smirking back down at you. “but i think i can help keep it pretty warm, actually.”

your attempt to level with taerae only seems to encourage him as he pulls down his jeans and boxer-briefs. you inhale sharply as his hard cock comes to eye-level, so close you can really examine it. though it’s slightly smaller than hanbin’s, it’s thicker and you need to know immediately how it feels in your hand.

“whoah, you—,” taerae stumbles, eyes wide as you take him eagerly in your hand. he stares at you, lips parted as you start to pump him. “holy shit.”

“you’re sure you wanna do this?” you ask, pausing your motion to make eye contact with him. you can tell he doesn’t want you to stop, but there’s conflict lingering there that he just can’t seem to hide.

taerae clears his throat, shaking his head as he resumes his tough guy act. eyes cold once more, he shrugs. “a hole’s a hole.”

after a year of judgmental berating from your former best friend, it was almost comforting to know that he was capable of being even meaner than he already was. it meant that, for whatever reason, he usually didn’t want to be any meaner to you.

he takes both of your hands in one of his, keeping you from using them as his other hand finds the back of your neck again— guiding your face towards his cock. taerae doesn’t need to give much guidance though. you’re aching to get a taste and the way your lips sink down around him nearly knocks the wind out of him.

back pressed against the side of the vending machine, his thumb presses into your cheek— feeling himself inside of your pretty mouth. you swirl your tongue around his tip, causing him to moan softly.

there’s a little bit of rustling coming from where taerae’s phone is propped up on the shelf. you wonder if hanbin’s enjoying this. if he’s touching himself— wishing he was throat deep in you instead.

“c’mon, bud. is (y/n) running this show or are you?” hanbin asks, tone laden with frustration.

“i—... i am,” taerae asserts, grip tightening across the back of your neck. 

he starts to thrust gently into your mouth, an action that you’re not so familiar with. it rattles you a bit— loss of control after feeling like you were gaining it back.

“this is what you asked for, baby,” he reminds you, shallow thrusts starting to venture a bit deeper. “remember? you said you wanted a filthy mouth. so i’m gonna make a mess of it.”

you find the right rhythm to breathe through the thrusts. the tip of his cock is dangerously close to entering your throat, sending another wave of anxiety through you. but it’s not for long. 

your eyes meet taerae’s and, though he’s the one putting you in that danger, you suddenly feel very safe. you let out a sigh, the vibration causing him to mewl. he scratches at your neck affectionately, putting pressure against it to feel himself inside you as he fucks your throat.

“see, keeping that throat nice and warm,” taerae coos as his breathing gets heavier— and his moaning gets louder. “take me so well, i—.”

“shut the fuck up, dude,” hanbin scolds, his own breath growing labored. “do you wanna get caught before you can win the—?”

before hanbin can finish his thought, you feel a warm, sticky liquid begin to pour down your throat. you pull off of taerae, sputtering and coughing as you try to swallow it down. wiping your mouth, you look up at taerae who is looking at you like he wants to dive straight into the han river and never return.

“for fucks sake, are you actually a virgin or something?” hanbin asks angrily. “is that really all you can last for? and, jesus, you’ve gotta warn someone before you do that.”

your throat is starting to burn and you’d love to be able to say something, anything, but the rasp that comes out isn’t pleasant-feeling. you rub at your throat with your now-free hands as taerae’s expression just turns more horrified.

“did i... did i hurt you? fuck, i didn’t mean to—,” taerae starts to babble uselessly until hanbin claps loudly.

“good work, team!” he says as he finishes his round of applause. “mvp definitely goes to me, for coming up with this idea in the first place. i’ll see the campus activities secretary at the big game tomorrow, right?”

“mm,” is all you can croak out. you wish it sounded angrier.

“and i’ll see you at practice tonight, man. i—,” hanbin cuts himself off with a confused look. “wait, where did he go?”

you face forward, expecting to see taerae standing next to the vending machine but... hanbin’s right. he’s vanished.

“that kid’s a piece of work,” hanbin says, shaking his head. “you think he’d be more grateful after i took him under my wing and made him popular. i even got him a spot on the soccer team after a lot of private coaching. i mean, he’s benched for life, but still!”

you’re a saint among men, is what you wish you could say. instead, you just roll your eyes.

“just take his phone and give it back to him in class, will you?” hanbin asks as you stand up and make your way toward the shelves. “and drink some hot tea for that throat, okay? throw some honey in it and you’ll be good as new for tomorrow, i promise.”

you sigh. and you nod. and you pick up taerae’s phone and end the video call. 

and you go back to choir and sit in your black music chair and wait for taerae to come back, but he doesn’t. and when it’s time to audition for the solo you’ve been preparing for, you stay seated and quiet. 

seated and quiet.

like you’ve been for so long.

and when practice ends and the choir room is empty and you remain seated and quiet in your black music chair and tears begin to well up in your eyes, you don’t cry.

you smile.

you stand up.

you shout (briefly, so as not to disturb anyone in neighboring classrooms).

at some point or another, you forgot how to do these things. or you were made to feel like you couldn’t or shouldn’t. 

but that’s who you really are.

who you were always meant to be.

not a juliet. not a violin. not a goalie. not a bird. not a pretty mouth.

you.

you pick up your bag off the floor (and taerae’s) and throw them both over your shoulder, making a beeline toward the door.

absolutely, hanbinnie, you think. you’ll see me at the big game.

[hyuckilstan]

Make it up to you -P.Sh

Pairing!— Seonghwa x afab!reader

Genre!— Angst, smut, fluff if you squint?

warnings!— cunnilingus, protected sex, a whole lot of apologizing and petnames, make-up sex but its soft, possessiveness more like over protectiveness, kinda toxic ngl.

Summary!— Your boyfriend wants to make sure you know how sorry he feels, and how could you reject him when he was being so genuine.

Wc!— 2.1+k words

a/n!— oka I’m back lol and I thought why not make my comeback with a hwa fic (also there might be some typos idk 💀)

☽·Masterlist·☾

Right now, You’re fucking done with everything.

You’re done with Seonghwa, your boyfriend, you’re done with yourself, heck you feel like you’re done with the relationship.

“I can fucking take care of myself Hwa!” you shout back, feeling frustrated, you know Seonghwa loves you, so much so that he loves to pamper you, sometimes too much that it feels like he thinks of you as a mere child he wants to protect.

Just like tonight, you had peacefully told him that you would be fine if he left you alone at the bar while he goes to chat with his friends, since they were celebrating Hongjoong’s big day as a producer after all, although you’re pretty sure you've ruined the night for him.

Seonghwa just couldn’t resist when he saw some guy hitting on you and even swung his fist at him, resulting in you both standing outside after getting kicked out, arguing.

When you told him once again that he shouldn't have been so protective he blurted out something along the lines that you said that cause you do love the attention, or something like that.

You don’t really remember.

You don’t want to remember.

“We’ve been over this Y/N, I do this because I care for you,” he still refused to admit that what he had said and done were wrong, maybe you were dramatic about him being protective, but what he had said after hurt you more than you wish it did.

“Am I like a goddamn child to you?! I am an independent person Hwa, I can make my own choices and protect myself too, I don’t need to be dependent on someone to do that for me!” You think you’re screaming, you’re not sure, your ears are still ringing because of the loud music, and you feel like your senses are numb and your tears won't stop falling.

Seonghwa hates seeing you like this, more so that he is making you feel like this, but he just wants you to understand that he does it all because he loves you, without a second thought, he says some words he immediately regrets.

“So you call allowing that fucking man to throw himself at you independent? Maybe you are a fucking child Y/N.”

You think you can hear your heart shatter into a million pieces, you don’t respond, mainly cause you are physically unable to, you just want to scream and cry, and you do.

“Stop. I- I’m heading home, and don’t you dare follow me,” you sob and Seonghwa stands stunned when he realizes what he has said and done.

You can hear him calling your name but you choose not to, still sobbing and tears flowing like a river, you open the door to Wooyoung’s car, who had told you before you and Seonghwa left that he could drive you home, almost as if he knew that you would want some distance from your boyfriend.

Wooyoung doesn’t question you, instead he drives to your home, he does tell you that it will be okay every now and then. You wonder if your relationship with Seonghwa is in a critical position, you wonder if you would ever make up.

You do know the amswer to whose questions when you do reach your home and Wooyoung gives you a tight hug, “Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll work things out, Seonghwa loves you nd you love him, arguments happen once in a while, I just know that you guys are made for each other,” he says and you nod, wiping your tears, bidding him goodbye as well as thanking him.

Once you enter your home, you feel like the place is colder, is it because of the feeling of dread you have for when Seonghwa will return home or just because of the weather? Either way, you decide to wash up and immediately head to bed.

--------------༊·˚

Its currently a little past 1 in the morning and it seems like you have cried yourself to sleep, but your ringtone wakes you up, you decide to bot pick up seeing that it was Hwa, but when he keeps on calling you finally pick up.

You don’t say anything, but you can clearly hear Seonghwa sniffing on the other side of the phone, “Y/N... Please, let me in, I’m so sorry, please, ” his pleads are pathetic and Seonghwa knows it.

You hang up without saying a word but you do get up to open the door, after mentally preparing yourself to face him of course

When you open the door, you see Seonghwa, possibly in the most hopeful yet miserable state you’ve seen. He looks stoked to see you, he starts crying, and you are about to start crying too.

He lets himself in, locking the door behind him, “Hwa-” before you can say more, Seonghwa’s soft lips are pressed against yours harshly, you both need this.

He effortlessly hoists you up so that your legs are wrapped around his hips, he doesn’t stop kissing you, instead he makes the kiss deeper, more intimate but you don’t complain.

He somehow managed to stumble into the bedroom and he gently lays you down on the bed, he pulls himself away and you almost whimper, “I’m sorry baby, are you okay with this?” he asks, his voice is full of hurt and regret, you can feel it, because that is also the same case for you when you speak out.

You cannot exaggerate how good he looks right now, his soft skin illuminated by the moonlight and his eyes that are glistening as they look up at yours.

“Hwa don’t stop, please,” you plead and he nods diving back in the kiss, his hands are all over your body now, your body is burning up, he feels so fucking good against you.

His lips leave yours but they start trailing down your neck, sucking and nibbling it, “Is this okay?” he asks for your assurance when his fingers are pulling at the waistband of your shorts, you nod, tugging at the hem of his shirt, Seonghwa nods as well, taking off his shirt in one swift movement and now you’re staring at him, observing his every next movements.

He slowly pulls your shorts down along with your underwear, your breath hitches when you feel his hot breath against your now wet core, “You don’t have to...” you say quietly but Seonghwa shakes his head in disagreement

“No baby, let me make it up to you, please?” he asks innocently, and who were you to say no to him, when you give him the green light he wastes no time in taking you in his mouth

He wets your already wet folds and starts flicking his tongue at your clit, “Fuck!” you groan, Seonghwa was always skilled with his tongue and that makes you feel intoxicated, he always looks so pretty between your legs.

Your fingers rake his hair, tugging his hair slightly to pull him closer, Seonghwa doesn’t complain, rather he loves it when yiu chase for your pleasure.

Your moans bounce off the walls of the bedroom as your boyfriend alternates between giving kitten licks to your cunt and flicking your clit with his tongue, Seonghwa softly moans when you tug his hair harsher, he was growing rock hard at this point.

He sucks at your clit making you gasp, “I’m so sorry baby, I love you I love you I love you,” he says between his sucks and licks, he continues repeating the words “I love you” and “I’m sorry” every now and then, and before you know it, tears are staring to fall again, this time not only because of hurt, but also because of pleasure.

He fucks his tongue into your wet hole while his nose brushes against your clit and Seonghwa feels contented when he hears your moans getting louder, but he wants to hear more from you.

So he wets his fingers in his mouth, fucking two digits into you, you moan out loudly when he starts curling them, the pleasure was starting to get really intense.

“That’s it baby, take it all for me, just want you to feel good,” he says and resumes on fucking you with his fingers and sucking your clit, “Hwa, I think- I’m going to cum soon-” you inform him and he hums, fucking his fingers into you even faster.

Curses leave your mouth as you buck your hips while the pleasure Seonghwa was delivering to you remained constant; you feel your climax arriving dangerously close and before you could warn him, you had came all over your boyfriend’s face.

You gasp at the sight of seonghwa’s face smeared with arousal, feeling more aroused when he licks it all up, “Fuck baby that was so hot,” he chuckles, he gets up to take off his clothes that were still on and crawling back up to the bed, staring right at you.

He gently cups your face, it feels nice and warm, “I feel so fucking stupid baby, will you forgive me?” he asks and you stare at him for a little longer before you hum, he’s still hesitant so you decide to speak up, “Hwa, I just want you to fuck the pain away,” you tell him and it causes his cock to twitch.

“Shit baby, you have no idea what you do to me,” he growls and Seonghwa, being the best boyfriend he (almost) always is obliges, he quickly grabs a condom from your nightstand and rolling it down along his erect length, he then aligns his dick to your hole after wetting it with your arousal.

He easily slides himself in, and you both moan in unison, you frantically reach out your arms to pull him closer, noticing this, Seonghwa starts kissing you again, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

He starts to slowly rock his hips towards yours, fucking in and out of you deliciously, “Yes, right there Hwa,” you moan when his length hits just the right spot, Seonghwa hums and continuously abuses that spot.

He swallows your moans as your tongues danced together, his hands are back to cupping your face and right now, you feel so loved, Seonghwa was making love to you.

“You feel so tight,” he groans, fucking even deeper into you, his lips are now against your neck again, this time peppering it softly, while you moan out without a single care, all your frustration leaving as pleasure arrives.

Your second climax is arriving and you need more, “Hwa, please- harder,” you ask, Seonghwa responds obediently to your request, he was now slamming his length into you at a fast pace, to which he loudly curses.

You reach your hands down to your clit, gently rubbing then, Seonghwa smirks amused, “That’s it baby, rub that clit while I fuck you so good,” he pants and you nod frantically.

When Seonghwa notices that your moans are getting more choked and louder he speaks up again, “You’re gonna cum for me again my love?” You nod and his groans follows your response, “Me too love- fuck- let’s cum together.”

You cannot form words, or at least coherent ones, you just take the pleasure you’re receiving, you can also tell that Seonghwa is close to the edge when you feel him twitch inside of you.

He places his hands at your hips tightly and pulls your hips and fucking into you, your choked out moans, the sound of skin on skin and his pants are the only thing you can now hear.

“Shit I’m cumming” he says and you do too as he continues to fuck into you while he empties his load in the rubber, once you both reach your climax, he rests his forehead against yours, you’re both breathing heavily at this point.

He lays himself next to you, softly kissing you, he brushes a portion of your hair behind your ear and sighs, “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I promise to never do or say those things again,” he apologizes again for you don’t even remember how many times but could feel how genuine Seonghwa was being.

You smile softly at him, which further reassured him that you have indeed forgiven him, “It’s okay Hwa,” you snuggle onto him, “Arguments can break out often, we can only do so much as grow from them,” you tell him.

Seonghwa cannot describe how happy he feels as well as how proud, he does realize now that you are a grown up who is capable of handling themselves and that he had been pampering and babying you too much.

“I love you so much,” he says pulling you in tighter against his chest, “I love you too,” you reply with a faint smile.

Wooyoung was right, you would’ve come up with a solution one way or the other, as weird as this may be, you managed to work things out.

You were made for each other.

©hyuckilstan. All Rights Reserved.

Taglist!— @yeo-hehet, @hwanchaesong, @enivivs, @alphadisaster, @zen626, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @amangooo, @riboism (feel free to inform me if I had forgotten to add you or you wanted to be added in the taglist!)

[herlondonboy]

Oh, My, Love Is A Lie

pairings: Taylor Swift x gn!reader / Taylor Swift x Joe Alwyn

summary: The one where Taylor falls out of love with you and in love with her PR boyfriend.

warnings: PR relationships, lmk what else. Is it weird that it’s Joe? idk. No way in hell am I writing about yk who though

word count: 0.9k

You were at home again.

At home alone whilst Taylor was off gallivanting with Joe. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Joe, he was nice and shared a few qualities of your own, it was that he was going on dates with your girlfriend. The part that probably pissed you off the most was the fact that when Taylor’s team had suggested a fake boyfriend to divert everyone’s attention from the two of you she agreed instantaneously.

You knew she wasn’t embarrassed by you per se, but the fact that she had already made up her mind on the matter before she spoke to you about it hurt.

Four years together were ruined by a photo of a kiss on the cheek that Taylor blamed herself for. She had let her guard down and loved you in public and now you were both paying the price.

The soft hum of the television was the only sound apart from your rapid beating. You stared down at the velvet box in betrayal before opening your phone to the messages from the night before, double-checking the time you had agreed on.

You: Are we still on to celebrate tomorrow?

Taylor: Yes, of course!! 10 pm, right?

You: Yep. See you then, I love you!

Taylor: Love you

You looked at the clock on your phone and sniffled, 00:13. It wasn’t even your anniversary anymore. A sigh sounded and you stood to go to the dining room. The dinner you had made Taylor was still on the table so you moved it to the oven just in case she got home and was hungry.

Next, you made haste with removing the wax that had melted onto the table. They Taylor’s favourite scent and you sniffled in remembrance before tossing them into the bin.

The television was still on as you found the bedroom. Plastic rose petals littered the floor in a way that looked random, but was anything else. You wondered if she’d even notice if you left before she got back. Probably not. You put the petals back into the bag that they came in and chucked them on the bed before walking over to the wardrobe.

You didn’t blame Taylor. You were nobody and Joe was somebody. Okay, maybe you did blame her a little bit. But she had fallen in love with someone who didn’t even love her back whilst the person that did love her watched from their home.

Four years gone. And for what? She let her insecurities get the better and now you were insecure. Constantly blaming yourself for being the reason she latched onto Joe. Had you seen the cameras sooner, she wouldn’t have kissed your cheek and she wouldn’t have needed the PR relationship in the first place.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door creaking open and a small curse followed by skin slapping against the floor, “y/n, baby, are you awake?” She called out and you walked back into the lounge, frowning when she grinned at the sight of you. Taylor saw your look and pouted, walking over to you, “I’m sorry that I missed our date. I just got a little carried away at the studio.”

“It wasn’t a date,” You said softly, looking up at her, “And I wish that was true, but photos of you and Joe leaving the studio were published hours ago.”

Taylor tried to think of a response before just looking down guiltily. At least she still felt enough for you to feel bad, right?

“It was our anniversary,” You continued, a lump forming in your throat. “And I tricked myself into thinking that you wouldn’t stand me up for Joe on a day as special as this, but I was so wrong.”

“Y/n,” Taylor murmured, “I’m sorry. I lost track of time, but I can make it up to you. I promise, just let me try.”

You let out a shaky breath and looked down at the coffee table. Taylor followed your line of sight and gasped, covering her mouth. Picking it up, you held it out to Taylor, who took it regretfully.

“I love you, Taylor, and I always will, but I can’t be with someone that doesn’t love me back anymore. The way you look at Joe now is the way you used to look at me,” You explained. “And I wondered if you actually got here on time and we celebrated our anniversary would you have said yes?”

The look on her face said all. She knew she was falling out of love with you, too.

“Don’t worry,” You said, knowing that you didn’t want her to feel even worse, “I wouldn’t marry me either.”

“Y/n, that’s not-“ Taylor stammered, “I would- I would marry you. I just… I didn’t mean to.”

Sniffling, you nodded. People don’t control who they fall in love with, unfortunately. If they could, you wouldn’t be blaming yourself. A weak smile graced your lips and you leaned forward to hug the blonde, “I love you, Tay, and I want you to be happy. If that means Joe, then so be it. I’m sure, I’m sure he does love you back. You’re hard not to love.”

“I’m sorry,” Taylor whispered, “I really did love you.”

Can’t you see that your words are hurting me? You wanted to scream at her. She was trying to comfort you and was failing miserably.

[the5thcellar]

I actually think Luke is serious about A. That age gap is typically what men marry these days. I think he's crazy about her and was taking it slow after a long term break up before going official. That shows intention, planning, and wanting her. I wouldn't be surprised the official IG couple post is coming soon.

I'm just upset that they took it this far with promo. Tom and Z were meeting each other's family outside of work early on, so to say you are officially brining him to meet the fame was a bit much. Closing your eyes when she touches your face? Grade A acting. I hate that it makes me believe he was never attracted to an amazing woman like Nicola. I feel dumb for falling for it all. I hope Nicola finds a handsome guy who will love her proudly.

that's a really interesting take tbh! ive actually never considered he was serious about her in the sense of marrying - but of course this is purely based off the vibes I get and is entirely my own view.

one of the reasons i say this is because luke doesn't seem too inclined to keep a completely friendly distance between himself and nic - i heard that the QC leads india and corey were shipped really hard by fans as well and he had a gf during the whole press run - and towards the end india and corey started posing separately on carpets (i.e. no touching, no friendly hand around shoulder even during photos etc) because they wanted to emphasise that they were really just friends.

luke in contrast seems to have no qualms about blurring lines - and one of the reasons the more rabid fans kept insulting Antonia was a direct result of the fact that he kept stating his "single" status to press. I think he could have helped Antonia avoid a lot of the flak she drew by just stating that he's seeing someone. but maybe he felt it would draw even more attention to his private life and her? idk. i don't want to puzzle over his motivations because I don't believe they are too complex - I've said this many times before and I'll keep saying it - no matter how good a man seems (and I do believe Luke is very good and sweet), trying to justify anything they do is still a sure path to disappointment.

more importantly: please don't feel dumb for falling for the hope that nic and luke could be together! i really don't think they were being deliberately disingenuous - i actually think the opposite - i think they themselves are often confused about what they really are and it's just easier to define it as being great friends. it's strange but i get the feeling that they see each other as a source of potential - it's simultaneously impossible and also the easiest thing in the world for them to envision a reality where they're together - there just seems to be many barriers to it happening for real. they're comfortable living in the liminal space between great friendship and great romantic love - it definitely explains why nic said she doesn't have a relationship in her life that's anything close to what she has with luke. I think there just needs to be a decisive push for them to ever move out of this grey area. it'll have to be something massive for it to ever happen... and it's not something I hold out hope for (again, just to avoid disappointment!)

this got really long; I wish nic and luke all the best and I think they have something very special with each other. I think life has many many stops along the way and I don't think luke has found a final stop in his romantic journey with antonia - they are both very young and they don't have the vibe of "together forever" couples - if they did (since luke is such a big believer in love at first sight) - he'd have laid down a commitment a lot sooner.

again I want to emphasise that this is all MY POV - it's the vibe I get. I'm WELL AWARE I don't know these people irl. There's always criticism of how parasocial fandom and stan behaviour are but I think most fans - myself included - are very conscious of the fact that the way we perceive and interact with celebs is completely one sided. I'm also not a psychic or clairvoyant or anything of the sort. i just strangely feel a lot of things all the time and ive never been chill a day in my life 😂

sending you lots of good feelings and healing - I feel your hurt and unease and disappointment because I feel the same, but it gets easier to accept with each day that passes.

[bella-rose29]

The Greatest Thing - Lockwood x fem!reader

requested by anon: Hi, I love the way you write! I was wondering (if requests are still open) if you could write a Lockwood x reader where reader's mother died when she was little for some reason, and by taking on a case reader and Lockwood find themselves having to fight the ghost of reader's mother ? And maybe even Lockwood calming Reader down after the mission? Feel free to change parts. (btw: sorry if English is terrible, I'm Italian, English is not my native language)

my lovely you don't need to apologise for your English, it's better than a lot of actual English people I know (myself included) <333

sorry this took me so long, but hopefully you enjoy!!

for reference, the song that's mentioned is specifically Nat King Cole's version of Nature Boy from 1948 <3

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: swearing (only a lil), brief mentions of cancer (not explicit though), idk if there's anything else

I did just copy and paste the tag list from DTH part 9 so feel free to not read this if you don't want to! <3

It was nearly one in the morning when the telephone rang. 

This was odd, because the phone had been broken for a little over twenty years. 

It was more sentimental than anything else, and it was kept as a reminder of someone long gone, as was the typewriter that sat on the shelves next to the telephone, on top of the case it came in so that it could be admired. There was a record player too, although that was in perfect working condition, unlike the other two objects. 

The ringing of the telephone woke up the inhabitant of the bedroom, and he groggily rubbed at his eyes as he sat up and turned the light on. The glare made him wince, but when he realised the broken telephone on his shelf was ringing, his eyes shot wide open. He scrambled for the working phone on his bedside table, trying not to panic too much and failing as he punched in the numbers. The line rang three times before someone picked up, and his breathing was shaky. 

“Hello? I think there’s a ghost in my bedroom.”

~~~

“Lockwood? You awake?” Y/n pushed open the door to the library, making note of the dim light that shone under the door. Her voice was quiet, just in case he’d actually managed to fall asleep, but as soon as she stepped inside she saw him sat in his usual armchair with a book.

“Everything alright?” he asked. 

“Not really. Dad’s just phoned me.” She took the chair next to him, watching as he put a bookmark in place and held the book closed on his lap. 

“Ah, that’s who was calling.” He frowned. “You don’t sound too happy about it.”

“He thinks there’s a ghost in his room. Said the old telephone that Mum bought ages ago started ringing just now. He wants us to come and check it out as soon as we can.”

“How do we know it’s not just… someone calling?”

“It’s broken, Lockwood. Has been for ages. Pretty sure it was broken when Mum got it, but she thought it looked nice.”

“Right. Well… you know the house layout, and where things are. And if you’re not too tired… I suppose we could head over now? Only if you wanted. Your father is welcome to stay here if he wants, too.”

“Thank you, Lockwood. I don’t know that I’ll be able to sleep, not knowing Dad’s in danger. And he won’t want to go outside at this time of night anyway, not without a safe route to somewhere else. You sure you’re alright with going on a case now?”

“Of course I am, Y/n. Especially for you.” She tried not to flush too much at how sincerely he had said it and pushed out of the chair. 

“Okay then. I’ll just… go and get changed.” She was still in her pyjamas from earlier. Lockwood was, predictably, in a suit, just without the jacket and tie. She was certain they were a second skin on him now. 

“Meet me by the front door in ten? I’ll get the kit ready.”

“Sure. Don’t forget the biscuits like you did last time.”

~~~

It took five minutes of quietly moving around the attic so as not to wake Lucy for Y/n to get changed. She wasn’t entirely successful in being silent, since the floorboards creaked every two seconds and she fell over trying to get her jumper on because she got stuck inside it and didn’t see the corner of her bed, but somehow Lucy slept through it all. Y/n headed downstairs, wincing when the steps groaned under her weight, and went to find Lockwood in the basement. He was nearly done packing up the bags, and when he caught sight of her his smile was blinding. 

“You all ready to go?”

“Yeah, think so. I’ve been thinking, about what the Source could be?” she said, although her voice lifted at the end to make it sound more like she was asking him a question. Lockwood nodded, zipping up the second kit bag and handing it to her when she reached for it. “I feel like the phone is too obvious, but if it’s some sort of Poltergeist it might be a good idea to check anyway. There’s quite a lot of things that could be a Source, actually. Mum loved collecting old stuff, said it reminded her of her childhood.”

“She wasn’t an agent, was she?”

“No. No Talent. Not with a capital ‘t’ anyway. She was amazing at loads of other things though.” They were in the hallway now, grabbing their rapiers out of the stand. Lockwood shrugged on his coat. 

“What do you know about the history of the house? Any murders or deaths that could result in a Visitor?”

“No. There was Mum’s, but Dad got the place sorted out as soon as he could. DEPRAC came in and cleared the room.”

“Well, we’ll see what we can find, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” she said when he opened the front door and gestured for her to go first. Lockwood must have called a cab, because now there sat one just in front of the gate. “I told Dad to get into the kitchen and turn the table lamp on, ‘cause a couple years ago he got iron strips put in the floor, so he should be alright in there. We can get this taxi to wait for him and bring him here, right?”

“Of course. That was a smart move, both the iron strips and your suggestion. We’ll make the kitchen our main retreat, then.”

Ten minutes later they were pulling up outside her childhood home, and as soon as the taxi stopped Y/n was opening the door and rushing to greet her dad. Lockwood was talking to the driver, paying him for the journey they’d just taken and asking if he might stay a little longer to take a passenger back to 35 Portland Row. 

“Hi, Dad, you alright?” Y/n breathed, wrapping her arms around her father. 

“Been better, love. I’m glad you and your boyfriend are here though.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Dad,” she said, feeling heat creep up her neck. “Lockwood’s my boss.”

“I just thought that since you talk about him all the time, y’know? Lockwood this and Lockwood that.”

“I’m gonna walk away now, I think. Have fun with the ghost!” she joked, knowing that she would never leave her father in a house where there was a possible haunting. “We, uh… we thought it might be best if you went to Portland Row for tonight while we work here. It’s a standard procedure to not have the clients in the house, but normally they’ve got somewhere to go and a bit more notice, and Lockwood said you can take his bed if you wanted. We have also got a sofa, but it’s not nearly as comfortable as a bed.”

“Alright, love. You’ll be alright, just the two of you?”

“Yeah.”

“I take it he’s keeping that cab for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then. I’ll see you in the morning, love.” He must have known that she would ask him to leave the house because he reached behind him and picked up a bag, hoisting it over his shoulder and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. 

“Bye, Dad!”

She watched as he sent a small wave over his shoulder, shaking Lockwood by the hand and thanking him for the offer of a place to stay, and then he was getting in the taxi and going back the way that she and Lockwood had come from. 

Lockwood had the keys to the house in his hand, and before he unlocked the front door (her father had locked it when he’d seen the taxi approach) he turned back. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I can do this, Lockwood. For my Dad. Besides, if something’s only just surfacing now from one of the antiques, it can’t be too bad can it? I mean, it didn’t hurt my dad.”

~~~

As it turned out, it was quite bad. 

Not in a holy-shit-this-ghost-will-kill-us way, but more in a holy-shit-why-does-this-house-feel-worse-than-a-graveyard-at-night? way. 

Y/n had grown up in this house, had only really moved out two years ago, and she had never once felt unsafe or uneasy. Walking around it now, though, doing initial readings of sensations and temperature, she wondered how her father had managed to stay positive. Most things she just got echoes of her own childhood, her laughter as she ran through the halls while her parents chased her when she was three, baking in the kitchen and licking the bowl when she was five, crying when she tripped and slid down the last couple of steps on the stairs and grazed her knee at the bottom, and her mother pressing kisses to her hair and a plaster to her tiny injury when she was six. But underneath it all there was a malaise, something unsettling that seeped into Y/n and Lockwood’s bones and made them cautious. 

“Does it normally feel like this?” he asked when they made it to the top of the stairs and around most of the rooms, one hand on his rapier hilt. They hadn’t drawn their weapons yet, but they knew it was only a matter of time. 

“No. Dad would have said something.” The thermometer beeped, alerting them of a drop in temperature. Lockwood checked it where it sat attached to his belt. 

“Minus two. It was three degrees just now.” They stood in silence on the landing, both looking at the thermometer. “Well, only one door left, I suppose. Do you want to do it or should I?”

“I’ll do it.” She made her way to the door of her parents’ bedroom and took a shaky breath before placing her hand on the doorknob. Immediately a rush of memories hit her, from when her parents first moved in after their marriage, to the day she was born in that room, to the countless times Y/n had crept in in the night because she’d had a bad dream, up to the point when her mother had last touched the handle. It went further, but the force of the memory of her mother made her push the door open and step over the threshold. 

Lockwood was right behind her, and she heard him draw in a breath and reach into his coat for his sunglasses. Y/n whipped around to look at him just as he pushed them over his eyes, catching the last of his squint while he warily studied the bed. “Why are you putting those on?”  she asked, not liking the wobble that accompanied it. 

“Death glow on the bed. Are…” he hesitated for a moment, and she imagined his eyes darting between her and the bed behind her. “Are you absolutely sure that your father got the house cleaned out?” His voice was soft, like he was trying to not agitate her too much, but she got defensive anyway. 

“Yes. He wouldn’t lie about something like that, not when he had a six year old living in a possibly haunted house!”

“But… and I’m not doubting you, or your father, I just need to know, were you here when the house got cleaned out after your mother passed?”

“No, Dad sent me to my friend’s house. He said it wouldn’t be good for us to be in the house while they were working.”

“So you never actually saw people cleaning out this place?” She froze, catching on to what Lockwood was getting at. 

“No,” she whispered, turning to look back at the bed. Her mother had died in it over ten years ago from untreated cancer, completely unexpectedly. She’d gone peacefully at least, in her sleep, but it had broken the two members of the family that had been left behind. Her father had told her that he’d call DEPRAC and get the house cleaned out, to keep the two of them safe, but now as she grabbed a hold of the doorknob again she realised there was no memory of people coming in to do that job. “Shit. Shit shit shit shit.”

“Hey,” Lockwood said, sunglasses still perched on his nose. “It’s alright. We’re agents, and we’re Lockwood and Co. I know… I know this won’t be easy, Y/n/n, but we can do this. You can do this. Just breathe in, and back out. Good. Right. Have a think: what in here could be the Source? Hey, focus, Y/n.” His tone grew a little harsher as he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her away from the door. 

“Why wouldn’t he clean the house?” Her breath was coming too quickly now, and her eyes couldn’t settle on any one thing. “Why, Lockwood? Why wouldn’t he do it?”

“Because sometimes we love someone too much to have them gone forever.” Her eyes finally stopped moving around, instead meeting his and making her draw in a breath at the vulnerability in his eyes. His voice had been rough with emotion, and immediately she thought of the door on the landing back at 35 Portland Row. As quickly as he had opened up, his walls had snapped back into place, and he was leaning back and smiling softly at her. “Let’s try not to focus on that too much, yeah? Maybe the phone?” As though he had summoned it, the old telephone on the shelf started ringing as soon as he finished talking. “Okay… that was weird.”

“It’s not even got wires attached to it,” Y/n breathed. 

“Visitor is definitely a Poltergeist then. There’s no apparition which is good, because no ghost-touch. That’s also bad though. No way of really knowing what the Source could be.” She tuned Lockwood out, knowing that he would just be talking himself through the situation they were in, and kept on staring at the telephone. It hadn’t stopped ringing. 

Music suddenly started blaring out of the record player, despite there not being any record to play. It was a song that Y/n recognised, although she couldn’t remember where from. 

“Is that… is that ‘Nature Boy’?” Lockwood asked, glancing incredulously at the record player. 

“Oh my god. Yeah. It was Mum’s favourite song, specifically this version.” Her mother would often be found with it playing on the record player in the study downstairs, and she’d told Y/n the story behind it a million times. She’d been adamant that Y/n never forget the words, and now as it played she knew it was her mother haunting this room. 

“I think it’s broken,” Lockwood said when the song skipped back to repeat the last section of the song. 

“The greatest thing…”

“No, it’s not. Maybe it’s the record player? Maybe that’s the Source?” The music stopped, and she knew she was wrong. “Okay… so the telephone is the Source?” At once the music started again, but from a different point. 

“But very wise…”

“Is… is your mother helping us?” 

“I think so.” 

“… Why?”

“Maybe she just wants to move on?”

“But very wise…”

“Okay this is freaking me out a little bit now,” she said, moving over to the telephone. It stopped ringing when she got close enough to reach out and touch it, and she glanced at Lockwood. “Silver net?” He wordlessly passed her one, his sunglasses still obscuring his eyes. His face was impassive and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, but he was focused on the record player. It had continued playing from where her mother’s ghost had skipped back to help them, and was finishing up the last lines of the song. 

“The greatest thing… you’ll ever learn… is just to love… and be loved… in return…”

The room became silent after that, and both Lockwood and Y/n stood staring at the record player. Nothing moved until Y/n finally broke out of whatever world she had disappeared into, slowly placing the silver net over the telephone and wrapping it carefully. At once the temperature lifted, and just before she had finished containing the Source of her mother’s ghost she heard a sigh in the air, as though someone was finally being allowed some peace. 

“We should head over to the furnaces,” Lockwood finally said. “Unless you wanted to put it in a silver glass case?”

“I’ll talk to Dad about it in the morning.”

“Alright. Here, let me…” he stepped over and gently removed the telephone from her hands. “Why don’t you go and sort out the kitchen, get all our things together? I’ll get a taxi for us.” Y/n nodded, not taking her eyes off of the bundle in his arms. “Y/n?”

“Hmm?” She was unfocused, untethered to this world, and his voice was muffled. She vaguely noted Lockwood putting the Source down and coming closer to her, and then he was hugging her tightly, pressing her into his chest and his lips to her head when she drew in a shaky breath and sobbed. 

“It’s alright. It’s alright.”

She wasn’t sure how long they were there for, her crying into his dress shirt and him rubbing her back and whispering softly to her, but by the time she pulled back, her sobs reduced to slight hitches in her breath, her throat was sore and her eyes puffy. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Y/n.”

~~~

It was nearly three in the morning when the telephone rang. 

This wasn’t odd, because this time it was Lockwood phoning Portland Row to let them know that the ghost had been dealt with, and he and Y/n were coming back. 

Y/n had remained silent for the duration of the taxi ride back to 35 Portland Row, staring out the window with her eyes looking at something that Lockwood couldn’t see. He knew what it was like, to be in her position, but he had no idea how to comfort her other than just being here. She’d gripped him earlier, when they were hugging, like she thought he might be the next one to leave. It had broken his heart and made it swell at the same time that she had held him so tightly, but now he was left to wonder how else he might help. 

She was still silent when they walked through the front door. 

Her father came out of the living room to greet them, and Y/n had frozen, rapier mid-air while she went to put it away in the umbrella stand. Lockwood had put his own rapier away, and the sound made her snap out of whatever trance she had been in and finish her previous action before taking one last look at her father and running upstairs. Lockwood shrugged off his long coat, hanging it on the stand. 

“It was her mother,” he said, looking at the stairs instead of at the man he was talking to. “I think she’s upset that you lied to her, about clearing out the house.”

“I couldn’t-” he broke off, coughing slightly to clear his throat when emotion clogged it up. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“I know.” He could barely look at that door on the landing most of the time. He turned to face Y/n’s father. “But you made that house unsafe. You got lucky. She was a Poltergeist, but completely unaggressive like they normally are. Very lucky, in fact, because there was no chance of you being ghost-touched. But still, you should have told her.” The man nodded, tears starting to fall on his cheeks. 

“I suppose you put the Source in the furnaces then?”

“No, actually. I asked Y/n what she wanted to do, and she said she’d talk to you. You could keep it, so long as it was in a sealed silver glass box. You wouldn’t have to lose her again.”

“That would be great, thank you. Is it safe here overnight?”

“I’ll put it in the storeroom downstairs,” Lockwood smiled, one of his classic customer service smiles, and moved towards the kitchen. “Whereabouts did you decide to sleep in the end? The living room?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Well, goodnight, sir.”

“You’re a good lad, Mr. Lockwood. I can see why my Y/n likes you so much. Goodnight,” he waved, disappearing into the living room and closing the door behind him. Lockwood stood in the hallway, Source still wrapped in the silver net, and tried not to blush too much at the way those words had been said. 

~~~

“What are you doing in here?”

Y/n jumped at the sound of Lockwood’s voice, and immediately felt a little guilty for intruding on his personal space. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t want to wake Lucy up, ‘cause she hasn’t been sleeping well recently, so I came in here. Sorry.”

“That’s alright.” He went to grab his pyjamas, then did a double-take. “Is that my shirt?”

“Oh.” She looked down and flushed. “I didn’t… I forgot that by not going up to the attic I wouldn’t have anything to sleep in, so… yeah.”

“Oh.” 

She wished he would say more, because his gaze was as heavy as the silence that settled over them after that single syllable. 

“Lockwood?”

A pause. “Yeah?”

“I can leave-”

“No!” He swallowed thickly, then repeated himself. “No. I mean, no point waking Lucy up, is there? I’ll be back in a bit, just… going to go get changed.” She watched him leave, and then five minutes later she watched him come back. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he answered, sounding anything but. He looked… nervous? Why the hell was he nervous? “You?”

“I’m alright.” She tried not to laugh, settling for an amused smile instead, and waited for him to get into bed next to her and turn off the light. Once it was dark (or as dark as it could be with the ghost lamp outside the window), she heard him shuffle around in his bed so that he was facing her. The outline of his face was barely visible, but it was enough that she could make out where his eyes were, and where his faint smile was. “Lockwood?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For earlier.”

“I already told you, anytime.” They went quiet, just enjoying the comfort of Lockwood’s bedroom. “I talked to your dad, by the way. He said he didn’t want to lose her again, so I’ve offered to sort out a case for the phone in the morning. I also told him off for lying to you, which terrified me, because your dad is not a small man.” Y/n let out a snort at the last part, and she saw the faint light from outside light up Lockwood’s teeth as he grinned. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did. Back at the house, you were… well, I’m not really sure what you were. But you weren’t you, and it scared me. It’s like you went somewhere else, Y/n. I just can’t lose you, is all.”

“Oh.” Now it was her turn to not say much, and she could feel him fidgeting. 

“Your dad said something. About you.”

“What? What did he say?” Her heart was beating faster, not knowing if he’d said something good or bad. 

“He said that you like me a lot.” Now her heart was thumping for a different reason. 

“Well, yeah. It’s difficult not to like you, Lockwood, you’re a very likeable person, you know? Very-”

“Why are you nervous?”

“What?”

“You’re talking really fast. You do that when you’re nervous. Why are you nervous?” Damn him for knowing her so well. 

“Uh… I just… I don’t know.” She did know, but how could she admit to her boss that she had the biggest crush on him while they were lying in his bed together?

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have- it just sounded like he meant it in a… in a like like way.” She took a deep breath, and decided to bite the bullet. At least if it was dark she couldn’t see his face when he rejected her. 

“He did. I… I’ve liked you for a while, actually.” There was no response, and suddenly it all seemed like a terrible idea. “Lockwood?”

“How long?” There was no discernible emotion in his voice. 

“About two years?”

“So… since you got here?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“You’re telling me,” he started, frustration seeping through, and she shrunk in on herself a little. “You’re telling me that we could have been together this entire time?!”

“Yeah, I guess so. Wait,” she frowned, “wait what did you just say?”

“It took us removing your mother’s Source from your childhood home and your father telling me that you really like me for this to happen?!”

“… Yeah?” She heard him bring his hands up to his face and groan, and then heard him shuffle around again. A moment later his hand was touching hers, tentatively at first, then lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her closer to him when he realised he’d found her. She ended up curled into his side, her head in the crook of his neck, and his arms wrapped around her torso under the duvet. 

“Well I know you’re free after we wake up, so right after we get the glass case sorted out I’m taking you out for food.”

“Like a date?”

“Exactly like that.”

It wasn’t long after that that the pair of them fell asleep, and before she drifted off in Lockwood’s arms, she couldn’t help but think how her mother had been right about loving and being loved, and how it was the greatest thing in the world. 

tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @magicandrosewaters

[thrashkink-coven]

A few weeks ago Lord Hermes very clearly and repeatedly told me my career was going to be slightly shifting soon. and because I was so incredibly anxious about the prospect of that, I tried denying it. Oops much have picked the wrong tarot card 5 times in a row. Oops sorry Hermes you’re cutting out oof bad signal sorry. What was that? Career change? Idk what you’re talking about. Let’s not fuck with my finances pls ☺️

Well :/ It’s happening now. And it’s not as a deal as I’ve made myself worry it would be. Just a slight lifestyle change, a bit more effort, a couple more things to do in a day. I got the news from my work yesterday, and last night Hermes visited me to “I told you so” and idk why but in that dream I was very sour about it. and he said something along the lines of

“a few months ago you were begging me for new opportunities because you were so eager to do something new. I told you to slow your role because new things are coming and now that they’re here you want to go back to your comfy corner and do nothing.”

and I was like yeah, I know. I need a hard kick in the ass and some new motivations, a new chapter, new projects. I just get anxious at having to get used to new changes. What if I fall short? What if I mess up because I try TOO hard? What if it’s difficult and overwhelming? What if I lose motivation and get stuck again?

And Hermes was kind of like “you know how Im ✨super fast✨ and cool, and you’re like… really slow?”

😒

“Well that’s actually just a trick of the eye. Every time I roam the skies, I have to get to my destination in a timely manner. Very important business. But Im not actually focused on going all that fast. In fact, I take my time to enjoy the journey. Every boundary I cross, I do so leisurely, because there’s nothing to be gained from rushing and worrying all the time. I’m always in the space between spaces, I’m very comfortable with the discomfort that comes with it. I got so damn good at it that I got faster and faster every time I tried. Now I go so fast, people don’t even realize how slow I’m going.

Basically, I never told you you had to adjust to everything right away, or that you’re going to seamlessly blend into every new chapter. Appreciate your surroundings for once. Appreciate the act of being unsure and take your time until you’re ready to pick up the speed. You can float on the water or fight against it, regardless, the waves are still going to come. And regardless of whether or not you want to sink like a rock, the tide will still move you. You’ve already won, so stop worrying so much about losing, cause my devotees aren’t losers”

So… anyways… I asked Hermes to help me start a small business with my friends selling art and clothes. The new hours will give me some extra cash to buy supplies finally. The added exercise will also help my mobility so I can slowly build up my strength and not be tired all the time- which will give me the motivation to make art and stuff. My disability is worsened by over exhaustion but it is also worsened by stagnation, so maybe a better balance of moving + resting will actually be better in the long term. Plus I’ll have a better opportunity to source supplies after work on my way home. Lord Ra has really been begging me to get outside more while the summer sun still lasts, maybe this is the catalyst I needed. Maybe I’ll do a spell for abundance and courage later.

Thanks, Hermes.

[jack-kellys]

hiya fizz!! can I request davey + forgetting to eat for the bad things happen bingo? idk it just feels so Him yk

bonus points if there's javey involved asw (maybe with the anger born of worry trope idk)

tyy :))

hey theeere kit of course! one box per fic, though, making it harder for myself >:)

ao3 series here, and request a trope from these here!

The chillier breezes and shifting leaves of autumn came quicker than David could have planned. Not like he can plan seasons, of course, but he hadn’t had time to factor in what autumn meant to his, shall he say.. outside responsibilities.

School, for one, had picked up once September finished- assignments were piling enough and David left home that morning with Les with arithmetic still to complete. It occupied his lunch period, pencil messily scratching across the page to finish it before his next class.

And after school he’s at the circulation gate, waiting for the evening edition with a couple of the boys. Sometimes Sarah accompanies him when she can get out of the house, and especially since their folks don’t permit Les to sell anymore (much to the now ten-year-old’s chagrin), but today isn’t one of those days. It’s solely David, tapping his foot.

“He’s late,” he mutters out, not to anyone in particular.

“Who, Jack?” Racer asks, perking up. That’s true, but not what David meant.

“Wiesel,” David sighs. “Folks are expecting us on the streets in only a few minutes, right?”

“Cool it,” Racer chuckles. “Ain’t a thing. We got better things to be pissed at him about.”

“I’m not- pissed,” David frowns, shoulders bunching a little. He stops tapping his foot. Race gives him an exaggerated nod, eyes widened, and David rolls his own. Finally the gate opens and when David turns away from the window with his fifty papers in hand, Jack appears in front of him with some kind of smile on his face.

“You’re also late,” David says, and Jack only smiles wider. “You selling?”

“Ain’t I always,” Jack smirks, patting his bag- less than his usual, David thinks. “I got a request.”

David’s lips quirk, following Jack when he begins to walk them away from the circulation center. “What kind, exactly?”

“A good one, promise,” Jack replies, setting his hand on Davey’s shoulder, likely to steer him toward whatever odd adventure Jack’s planned. “It’s startin’ to get colder, you know, and Klopp can only buy so much for us. It’s up to us older fellas to pick up the slack. New socks, new gloves, extra fabric to stuff clothes with.”

That’s reasonable in terms of necessity, but not in the way that matters most. David turns his head toward Jack. “How did you get the money for that?”

Jack smiles again, wide, eyes narrowed in amusement or pride.

“Easy,” he states. “I didn’t. Now c’mon.”

For all of the legends and stories David has heard, he’s never seen Jack’s thieving skills in action. There are lots of things he’s swiped over the years, apparently, that simply hadn’t made it to his rap sheet- and most were far more impressive than food and clothing. So while David doesn’t exactly like it, he makes conversation with a shop clerk while Jack slithers into the store behind him. The bottom line is that they can’t afford it, and the kids at the lodge need it, and that has to outweigh the moral consequences of it all.

David’s normally a talkative person. Not a good talker, maybe–definitely a better one now–but he can keep going, and going. He’s leaning on the counter, having linked his english class to the price of wool going up somehow, and he feels his brain start to…slide, almost. It feels distracted, but not by anything he can tell, and his gaze falls to the counter as it does. Maybe he’s just tired, but he has to keep talking so Jack can get–

“Hey. Hey. Kid, you alright?”

David’s head snaps up with a quick inhale at the clerk’s voice, blinking a few times to sort out his vision. He’d been really intent on that counter.

“Uh, yes, yeah,” he nods quickly. “Just fine, ah- sorry, what was I talking about..?”

“You ain’t been talking for nearly a minute,” the clerk replies, “what- HEY!”

That can only mean one thing. David can hear the door open, and before it can close, he’s running outside.

“Thought you said you were good at this!” David yells, catching up to Jack. His paper bag is filled, and his shirt must be stuffed- he’s gripping his sleeves like random objects might start pooling out from them.

“I am when my partner ain’t suddenly go dead silent!” Jack retorts, glancing behind them. He picks up his pace, and painstakingly, David does the same, a pit forming in his stomach.

His expression slackens. More than a pit- something like a hurricane, swirling his insides in circles, over and over.

“Jack,” he tries, but his voice doesn’t carry this time. He’s way more out of breath than he should be. “Jack. We need to- I need to stop.”

His partner’s head swivels at that, expression incredulous. “Dave, we-”

Jack blinks, eyes widening suddenly, and he nods vigorously. Ask and David shall receive, apparently…

In a moment, Jack’s hands are on him, as if he knew David was inches from stumbling. He practically shoves David into an alley, the change in direction jostling his brain. His legs are keeping up, but his brain can’t seem to, and every time he blinks they’re an extra five feet ahead of where they only just were.

Finally, Jack stops, and so does David, breathing hard. Spots are entering his vision, and he tries to blink them away, grabbing onto a railing at the bottom of a fire escape to steady himself.

“Shit, Dee,” he hears Jack hiss, and his fingers fall away from the railing as he’s guided and then sat against the wall. In front of him are Jack’s big, blurred, midnight-dark eyes, his eyebrows creased with concern. Light dapples parts of his face from above, landing on his pink-brown cheeks. He must’ve set David under the stairs. “Davey- Davey, hey, what’s goin’ on? What happened?”

Jack pats his cheek suddenly as he speaks, jerking David back to an attention he hadn’t realized he’d left.

“I just… can’t. Run. Ri’now,” David supplies, blinking at the other.

“Yeah I got that,” Jack almost chuckles, gaze still filled with worry His hand finds David’s forehead. “Are you sick?”

David shakes his head slowly, leaning into Jack’s palm. “Had to do math, during lunch.”

This somehow confounds Jack more, eyebrows scrunching, before he nods.

“Davey,” Jack sighs. “You gotta eat during lunch, okay? Gotta do that, or you’re gonna black out mid-sprint.”

“I blacked out after,” David corrects. The corrects again- “I didn’t black out.”

Jack nods in what David assumes is mock-understanding, before the boy shifts closer, pressing a quick kiss to David’s temple. Then he leans back, sitting on his knees and watching David for a moment. He can feel himself smile slightly, and Jack mirrors it meltily, before David snorts as the other tries to quickly wipe it off his face.

“Stay there,” Jack orders, standing himself up. “I’m gonna go grab you somethin’, alright? Then we’ll head back.”

David nods, leaning his head back against the brick behind him and resting his eyes. There’s no movement in front of him.

“Stop staring and get me some food, Kelly,” he hums.

“I–” Jack huffs. There’s a pause. “On it.”

[ariundercovers]

Roundabout (When Paths Cross, Pt III - Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~2.8k words

Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Chapter Summary: The next Sunday. Fluff, flan, and the great beyond.

Chapter Warnings: its all fluff anf plot, no porn this time, Javi being a needy demon, spanish nicknames, idk what else its honestly pretty chill

If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feeback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts!

PREVIOUS PART (II) HERE

Javi does, in fact, meet you for lunch that week. Twice. And then dinner on Friday. He’s a perfect gentleman, picking you up from your apartment and driving you to the restaurant. He holds every door for you, makes sure you’re seated first, tells you he’s paying and that he wants you to order anything on the menu you’d like. 

Normally, you’d take that kind of chivalry as a bit of an offense - some kind of lingering patriarchal worldview that you’d have absolutely no interest in - and yet, with Javi, you’re not opposed. In fact, you find that you genuinely enjoy it. Something about that shocks you even more than the way you jumped into his bed that first evening did, and even more than the warmth that blooms in your chest when he presses your knuckles to his lips. There’s just something about him, you think. Something you can’t quite put your finger on, but you already feel like you can’t live without.

Okay. It’s been a week. Get it together.

It feels like you’re in high school all over again, falling head over heels for anyone who showed an interest in you, no matter how bad they ended up being for you, or how much they annoyed you at first. 

Yeah. You’re falling. Hard. 

Fuck.

You’re getting ready to head over to Chucho’s for another Sunday meal when your phone rings. Picking it up, a beautiful baritone voice speaks into your ear that makes your knees a bit weak and a warmth bloom in your chest.

“Hola, Muñeca.” You sigh, like a lovestruck teenager, and move to sit down at the little armchair you keep in the corner of your room.

“Javier.” You can practically hear his smirk from the other side of the phone line, your own face graced with one to match.

“You’re coming tonight, right?”

“Like I always do, every Sunday. Unless… you don’t want me to?” You’re suddenly struck with a pang of worry in your gut, fear that perhaps things were moving too fast, that you’ve assumed some kind of exclusivity that the two of you have never discussed. You hadn’t stopped to think about what this might do to alter your standing weekly dinners at the Peña ranch. Javi chuckles in your ear and you settle immediately, reassured in an instant.

“No, darlin’, of course I want you to be there. I just thought I’d ask if you want to stay again? Maybe with a bit more planning this time? Doesn’t have to be with me, if you don’t want. We’ve still got the guest bedroom made up.” You smile and sigh, once again affronted by this gentlemanly way he has about him. Somehow, it’s not what you were expecting from a man like him. You were expecting something gruffer, with unfinished edges. Something more… machismo, really. He throws you for a loop at every corner.

“Yeah, of course. I’d love to. Any excuse not to come back to my empty apartment is a more than welcome one.” You can hear a little chuckle come through the receiver and then a heavy breath.

“Good. Can I come pick you up?”

You scoff and respond quickly. “I can drive myself, Javi. You don’t need to go out of your way for me like that.”

“It’s not out of my way if it means I get to spend more time with you, muñeca.” Sighing, you stand, pinching the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you start to pull out whatever clothes and items you’ll need for an overnight stay.

“Really, Javi. I’m alright. But I appreciate the offer. I’ll see you soon, okay? I’ll be out of the house in like… half an hour, I think.” 

He sighs lightly in the background but his words are laced with a touch of disappointment when he answers. “Hope you’re bringing some more of those pastelillos. Pops and I ate them all in less than 24 hours.”

“Ha! Of course you did. No pastelillos but something just as yummy, in my opinion.”

“Good. See you soon, then.” You pause your motions and smile softly to yourself, holding the phone once again.

“Yeah, See you soon. Bye, Javi.”

“Adios, muñeca.”

The receiver clicks off and you put down your phone, sighing dreamily as if you just stepped into a romance novel. He so successfully melted you by doing so little… it should really be more concerning to you, you think. 

Hastily, you pack up your bag and head to the kitchen where your homemade flan is cooling in the fridge. Pulling it out, you flip it onto the dish and scoop out the remaining caramel, grabbing up a can of dulce de leche and stuffing it in your bag before wrapping up the flan carefully and tightly. You flit around the house for a few minutes, tidying things up and making sure everything was in its place, lights were off, and cleaning up the few dishes lingering in the kitchen sink properly.

Taking a moment to visually scan the apartment, you open the door, hands very full, and shut it behind you before deadbolting it shut.

~ ~ ~ 

With the way your mind has you lost on some daydreaming tangent that is no doubt Javier-infused, it's no surprise that it feels like you blink and suddenly you’re standing in front of Chucho’s front door. You still blink back at it for a while before raising your hand to knock and being greeted by the old man, himself.

“Mija, I’m so glad you made it. Oh, here - let me take something, yes?” He takes the flan out of your hands and heads into the kitchen with it as you let yourself into the house, closing the door behind you. “Javi’s just finishing up a few chores around the ranch. He’ll be back in soon, I’m sure.”

You smile at Chucho and take a seat at the dining table as he brings you over a glass of water, taking the chair next to you. “Okay. No problem. You know he’s not the only thing I came here to see, right?” Chucho shrugs, a smirk on his face as he leans over and squeezes one of your hands with his own.

“Well… given the way he’s been moving around the house over the course of the week, I think I might’ve been knocked out of first place already.” You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again, looking down into your glass in slight embarrassment before he quickly continues. “I don’t mean to make you feel embarrassed about it, mija. I’m glad, actually. He’s been so much less mopey. Much more pleasant to be around.”

“You noticed that in a week?” You’re shocked, to say the least, thrown a bit by Chucho’s admission. You knew how much you felt for Javi already, but you were surprised to hear he might be feeling similarly, to put it lightly.

“I did. Doesn’t take very long when it’s the right person.” The warmth in your cheeks spreads and you look back down before he squeezes your hand once again. “Mija… look at me, please.”  You do as he asks, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I want you to be careful. He went through a lot down there. I won’t pretend to know the extent of it, but… I don’t want to see you hurt, either. Just… just be careful. Okay?” 

Your brows scrunch together slightly and you nod, somber, but agreeing. “I will. I promise, Chucho.”

Naturally, it’s then that you hear the front door open and you turn in your chair to see one sweaty Javier Peña in his tight jeans and a pair of muddy cowboy boots, yanking them off and throwing them on the porch before he steps inside. He smiles at you immediately.

“Muñeca. Pops. ‘M gonna go shower. Be back out in no time.”  He squeezes your shoulder on his way to his room and your eyes follow him down the hallway as Chucho speaks up to you again.

“You’re good for him, mija. I just hope he’s good for you, too.”

~ ~ ~ 

Dinner goes by relatively uneventfully. You spend some time recounting your weeks - Chucho talks about the ranch and the problematic bull he’s been fighting for some time now, Javi talks about some of the things he’s been tinkering with on the property, especially the fences he’s been fixing up. You give them the low-down on what work’s been like over the last week and you can tell that they both listen very intently, even if they’re not up to date on museum lingo. You do your best to explain as needed.

When you’ve all finished, Javi gathers up the plates and you follow him into the kitchen, reaching into the fridge for your very precious flan. As you’re reaching forward, fingertips just grazing the plate, suddenly there are a pair of arms wrapped around your midsection and a set of lips attached to your neck. Your body shivers involuntarily and you squeak, surprised. 

“Javi!” You almost shout, just barely holding it back into a whisper in time. “You could’ve made me drop the whole thing!” He chuckles in your ear and presses a kiss behind it. His voice is sultry, hushed whispers in your ear as he speaks.

“But I didn’t. Been waiting to get my hands on you all night, muñeca. Making me wait a whole week has been like a living nightmare.” You chuckle at his words and press back into his embrace as his lips drop to the junction of your shoulder and neck. 

“Well you’ve gotta wait a little more, Javier. I am not risking Chucho turning over his shoulder and seeing anything.” You push him off of you and turn around to a dejected look on his face, like a kicked puppy dog. You roll your eyes at him and reach up to press a kiss on his cheek. “You’ll survive, I promise. Couple hours, tops.” He sighs back at you but acquiesces, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, muñeca.”

You walk the flan back out to the dining area, setting it on the table as Javi follows behind with a set of plates, forks, and serving implements. You dole out a portion to each of you and sit down with a hesitant smile, waiting to see what they think of it. Chucho’s face lights up with the first bite, a smile on his lips that warms your heart.

“This tastes much like my wife’s did, mija. It’s wonderful.” 

You stop, tilting your head slightly at him as you study his expression closely. He’s never really talked about his wife before, at least not with any substance. You don’t know much about her, but you can certainly tell how much he loved her by the glimmer in his eyes at his admission.

“I’m glad you like it, Chucho. It’s always been one of my favorites.” Javi studies Chucho’s face similarly critically, and you think for a moment that you can see a twinkle in his eye that matches Chucho’s. If it didn’t feel overly intrusive, you’d consider asking them about her. You’d truly love to know, but it feels wrong. Like you’re sitting in on a moment that was never meant for you. You hold yourself, promising that you’ll bring it up sometime on a later date. Now isn’t the time.

Chucho eventually goes for seconds, as does Javi, and then you spend a few moments cleaning up from dessert. You’re standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes with care, when Chucho comes up to you and rests a hand on your shoulder. 

“Mija, you know you don’t have to do those.”

“You tell me every time, Chucho. I always do them. It’s my pleasure.” He smiles at you and gives your shoulder a light squeeze.

“Alright. Well, I’m off to bed. This old man is tired, and I think the two of you could use some time without me lingering.” You stop, turning to him.

“You don’t have to do that. We’re fine. I’ve seen Javi, oh… four other times this week?” You laugh, but he just smiles back at you and nods.

“I know. Still. I’m off to bed.”  He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before he’s walking in the opposite direction toward the master bedroom. You shake your head in slight disbelief and turn back to the dishes.

A few minutes later, Javi is pulling up beside you with a rag, taking each dish from your hands and drying it before putting it away. Between the two of you, you get through it all rather quickly and in no time at all you’re drying your hands and turning around to Javi’s arms caging you in against the countertop edge. Your eyes go wide and you take in a sharp breath, suppressing what could have easily been a squeak, but you manage to keep it down.

“Hi,” You say, like a doofus.

“Hi.” Javi responds.

His smile grows impossibly wider then, as he shifts further into your space, wrapping your lips up with his own. You hum into the kiss automatically, hands lifting to find his hips and then the center of his lower back.

“Has it really only been a week?” He asks in between kisses. You sigh, closing your eyes softly as he works his mouth down the side of your neck. It feels like heaven on your skin.

“Yeah. Just a week. Feels like it's been ages longer than that, though.”

Javi pauses and chuckles for a moment. “Oh, good. It’s not just me, then?” You laugh lightly at him in response and lift your hands to either side of his face, pulling his face up to look him in the eyes.

“Definitely not.” He swoops in then to kiss you once again, a warmth blooming in your abdomen that feels like it's been settled there all week long. You do not understand how you’re falling so hard, so quickly, for this man. It’s unnerving.

Suddenly your world feels upside down for a moment as he leans down, picks you up to set you on the counter, and presses his body further into yours as his hips come forward to meet the edge of the countertop. His lips never leave yours, keeping you firmly connected to him as he moves you. You wrap your thighs around his hips, pressing your chest tightly into his, and you melt into the kiss. 

It’s impossible not to.

When he pulls away, he has a starry look in his eyes that melts your heart into an even bigger puddle than it already is. One finger pushes a piece of your hair to the side, away from your face, and he offers you that big, dumb, lopsided grin of his.

“Before we get too carried away, there’s something I want to show you.”

You smile curiously at him and answer, “Oh, yeah?” 

He nods and sets you down off of the counter for just a moment before he’s grabbing your hand and leading you toward the backdoor. Pulling you onto the porch before he shuts the door behind you both, he takes a seat on a small bench near the grill and pulls you into his lap, angling you so you can look up towards the sky.

“You probably don’t get this kind of view in the northeast, I don’t think. It’s one of the best things about Laredo.” You don’t really know what he’s talking about at first until you really take a moment to take in your surroundings. In front of you is the most brilliant sky - the night is clear, with no clouds to obstruct your vision, and you can make out every tiny pinpoint of light in the distance as you look out over the river into the endless sea of stars above you.

“Javi… this is- oh wow.” You’re in awe of it - you’ve never seen so many stars, taking up so much of the sky above you. You’ve never had the pleasure of looking out into the great expanse of the universe like this. It makes you feel infinitesimally small, almost meaningless, but then Javi’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist ground you back to him, back to this moment. Back to everything you’re feeling for him all at once.

The two of you sit there just like that for a very long while, wrapped up in the embrace and in the vision above you. You actually see a shooting star cross nearly from one side of your peripheral vision to the other, lacinand you lace your fingers into his, squeezing tightly as his other hand rubs soft circles into your thigh.

“What do you think, muñeca? Think you can see yourself staying in Laredo for a while?” You smile at his question and lean back into him a bit further.

“Yeah, I think I can.”

~ ~ ~

a/n - next part should be out sooner than this one! Already working on it! love yall so much.

NEXT PART (IV) HERE

[justallihere]

And now for my absolute falling apart over this wonder that you're  writing and that gives meaning to my life :

!!!!! Alli!!!!! THEY FACE EACHOTHER ON THE BED!

when I read it... I melted

I felt like it was there specially for me ���

I was so happy!

And then it lasted 0.5 seconds because violet found out! (Idk if you answered this before: does she go back to sleep with Xaden after she finds out?)

AND boy oh boy how she found out! I am totally on board with the second signet theory. I will be shocked if cannon disagreezzz

I loved how you wrote the conversation about Xaden's second signet. I am surprised at myself for saying it, but it was less angsty than I expected... (Nvm I reread a bit and I was crying for Xaden, but that was my first impression lol, I guess that goes to show what a monster you made of me 😈)

If I were Violet I would be more upset about the second signet than about the venin (but maybe she is and I didn't  read it right?). What I mean to say is that the distance that Violet puts between them feels a bit forced, because she knew there were secrets there from the beginning. I would get it if she made clear it was about Xaden and not about the whole venin thing, but I don't think she did...?

But maybe i'm just among the few that want Xaden to suffer less :))) Or because her heart isn’t in it? She actually wants X closet not further but she wants to prove a point? :))))

What I love the most about how you handeled this AU is how they actually became friends before they ever get to the lovers part. See :going partying! together and walking! in chantara and  shopping! and sparring and planning heists!

I love them!  🥹🥹🥹

I have to go reread everything again now because I feel like I wrote this without doing my homework :)))

I am so NOT prepared for the suffering that is coming. I need it to be over fast so we can get to the fluff faster AAAAAAA!

Again, ALL THE LOVE! 🥰

Hi!

Thank you so much—I loved their cuddling. It’s what they both deserve tbh. Violet does technically get back in bed with Xaden after she wakes up from the dream and realizes about the venin but she doesn’t sleep—there’s a sort of throwaway line about it in the chapter after.

I’m glad you like the second signet theory. With what we’ve been given in canon so far there isn’t anything else that makes sense to me right now.

Okay so I just dug up this ask about Violet’s reaction that I think is a little more articulate about her feelings on the venin/Xaden/all the things but you’re pretty spot on in that she doesn’t really want to push him away but feels like it’s best for her in that moment to have some space between them while she works through all her feelings.

Their tentative friendship is SO important to their relationship development. Those moments that are mostly platonic but are the foundation for something more are the reason the slow burn works lol. They have to trust each other with the everyday things first.

Chapter 34 is the last of the major suffering and then we start in with the comfort finally 🫶🏻

[mayakern]

If I wanted to listen to your music for the first time, what songs would you recommend starting with?

haunted. this is my most popular song bc it was on wtnv and is probably why you're asking this. it is melancholic and, for lack of a better word, haunting. generally in my music there are Wholesome Songs and Sad Songs and this song is pretty much the perfect Sad Maya Song™.

warned. this song is so special to me. i wrote the first part of the song shortly after meeting devin, when we were dating but didn't know we were dating and i finished writing it after we got engaged. meeting devin was such an electric moment for me--i'd never felt so immediately connected to someone so fast and i was utterly convinced it wasn't mutual.

fall in line. dark and kinda angsty but i like the interplay of vocals i did here. this song is about being exhausted in relationships, both romantic and platonic, and feeling dogged by the need to present myself "authentically" to strangers and what that even means.

that way (feat @everydaylouie). i didn't get to do a lot of music collabs outside of sometimes playing with my brother so this song is always special to me. i wrote it for monsterpop and it's fun and light hearted and louie added an amount of polish and fun to the production that overall i think my music lacks.

winter heart. a simple song, but a sweet one. i wrote this song when devin and i first started to get more serious so i'll always think of it fondly.

fool. i just really like the backing vocals i did here and the over all vibe manages to still feel warm even tho it's a song about failure, anxiety and imposter syndrome.

best i can. another devin song. you can tell just how smitten i was (and still am) just by listening. if you listen closely you can hear how often i smiled while recording this song. also contains one of the few key changes in my music haha

you don't love me. another quintessential Sad Maya Song™. i just think the chorus on this song has such a good flow to it, in a sad girl kind of way. the production is pretty minimal and in some ways i wish my production skills had been better so it could be flushed out more, but maybe that's also a strength of this song. idk. either way, it's still one of my favorites and i got very emotional while recording it.

begin. you can tell by the audio quality and the attempted Alt Girl Voice that this is an old one, but it's still very dear to me. i wrote this after coming to terms with how incredibly bi i was/am and it's a top tier Wholesome Maya Song IMO.

a song for the terminally shy (who don't know how to deal with their feelings). one of my super super old songs and one that is still very dear to me despite its age. i wrote it about leaving home for college and about accepting having to let go or accept distance in some of my relationships, including a crush i had at the time. at the time this was my favorite song i had ever written (i hadn't written many) and my love for it and my conviction that it was good, actually, is what made me continue to write music. there's also a special secret duet version of this song with the person i had a crush on at the time. it's not perfect but it's pretty cute.

[theharrowing]

i'm boycotting hybe merch and i think you should too

listen: i'm not going to hold anyone's feet to the fire and say "boycott or else" and i am not going to unfollow or unfriend people, but i have been thinking a lot about this, and then i saw a post on twitter basically outlining everything that i have been mulling over & then some, and it has just been on my mind all day (and tbh for a few days) and i thought that maybe if i put these thoughts out into the world, it might get people thinking.

i also realize that these thoughts would have been better if realized before black friday and current merch drops, but it is what it is. i didn't even know they were doing another merch drop because i do not pay attention.

THE AFOREMENTIONED THOUGHTS; APOLOGIES FOR BEING SCATTERED:

we are witnessing the starbucks boycott working, and although it is yet to be stated whether that is making anyone on the upper level rethink their bullshit, they have been losing billions !!! of dollars.

i think people will be like "but i don't want to hurt BTS as people," and i hear that, but i also do not genuinely think a boycott would. they are literally fucking millionaires, and it is so hard to not get on my "i don't respect millionaires or believe they have the right to exist" soapbox when i do love them so much, but i also don't think they need our money, especially right now. especially because some (if not most) money can't go to them while they are in the military anyway (although i did see something about how the artist collection proceeds still might since it was initially sold before??? idk. still they are fucking millionaires.)

i think that what would be impactful would be for people to stop buying the merch for a while to send a message to hybe that we are not in support of zionists working with BTS. a romantic, faraway dream is for them to drop scooter braun's dumbass all together, but i do not genuinely think hybe or bang pd gives a shit about much beyond money, which is unfortunate. on this note tho, we could organize an email campaign??? i am more than down??? but it would depend on a lot of you participating. (if you're down tho i will type it up right away.)

do i think we need to boycott golden as a whole? no. i mean........i'm not buying the album because i have personally been more or less boycotting merch since the whole angel pt. 1 debacle, but i think that streams are fine bc they hardly bring in money anyway. but i am boycotting the justin timberlake and usher remixes because.......well, sorry but the favs are problematic.

[going to center myself and my feelings quick and i apologize...] i just cannot get through a day without sobbing uncontrollably about what is happening in gaza. and i cannot, in good faith, support zionists or people who work with them. this falls in line with BTS preaching for us to "love yourself, speak yourself." everything they have stated in UN speeches and in many of their lyrics makes me feel like the only thing i can do as a fan is stand up for injustices when i see them, and hybe working with zionists is a huge injustice. and if you disagree.......idk. i cannot sympathize with or understand you; this post is not for you.

i think it is a huge injustice to what BTS instills in people and makes them believe if we sit back while hybe does whatever the fuck they want without caring about the consequences.

(disney is also on the list, by the way, of companies that support israel. if you need illegal links to disney+ bts content, we can figure something out.)

also, i will say that while silence is violence and choosing neutrality is choosing the side of the oppressor, i wonder if the reason none of the guys are speaking out about the conflict has to do with their enlistment (aka something pertaining to matters i do not understand within the korean government) or within the company itself because they work with scooter et al (aka bang telling them to stay quiet.) whatever the reason is, i guess i am choosing the side of wishful thinking right now. i have absolutely no proof for any of these thoughts, but i do see some people angry at BTS for not speaking up, and while i agree that everyone should use their platforms, i am wondering aloud whether there might be a reason for it. this is not me making excuses for anyone, though........i just don't know. i have no idea.

SOME FINAL FINAL THOUGHTS:

at the end of the day, we can only do what we can. if you can only boycott so much, you can only boycott so much. it takes time and effort to radicalize to the point of cutting out so many unnecessary things what we deem as "necessary." but it is possible. your money does make a difference, and wouldn't you want that difference to be good? and if you do have a moment of weakness, it is important to continue to stay the path and do not let guilt make you feel one way or another. we all make mistakes but the important thing is that we try.

ALSO if you want cute merch, support independent artists!!!!!!!!! the BTS army is full of amazing creatives and your money can help them for a little while instead!!!

i might be missing a lot, like i said, my brain is super scattered. but if this resonates or speaks to you or there is more i should consider, please reach out.

[kehkr]

i keep coming up with ideas for new fics but i really just need to update the fics i already have......

SO ANYWAY the fic idea is that kai is now an adult and ceo of hiwatari enterprises but he STILL doesn't give a shit. he goes through secretaries like they're fast food because he has unreasonable standards yet he skips meetings and important reports because idk- he's too busy jumping off the side of mountains for fun??? enterting back alley beyblade tournaments???? even tyson has moved on to taking over mr d's job but kai, nooooooo, he just rocks up to the tournament in a terrible disguise and expects tyson to not realise its him.

"kai you're too old for this!"

"fuck you!!!!!!"

anyway!

kai is a meance and his secretary, isobel, has to essentially plan his whole life, do his job for him and make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble whilst also trying to impress upon him the importance of acting like a normal responsible human being. it just so happens that isobel is just as insane as he is.

WELL I GUESS IM JUST GONNA WRITE SOME OF IT HERE? SOMEONE RESTRAIN ME

Isobel grinned, feeling an overwhelming sense of satisfaction as she opened up the calendar that she shared with her boss. Who cared what Voltaire wanted, he had stepped down from the company three years ago, this was really none of his business. After all, her job- in her opinion- was to make sure her that boss was happy, not Voltaire. He better appreciate this, thought Isobel as she typed in the schedule that she had come up with for the next week and pressed the update button. She reclined in her office chair, glad for at least a few moments of rest. Unfortunately, it did not last long. Within minutes her phone was ringing. The name on the screen flashing up, Kai Hiwatari. A feeling of dread spread through her chest. Maybe she had been wrong. "Hello?" she answered. "Why have you added a helicopter ride to my schedule next Friday?" he demanded coldly. Isobel tried her very best to be patient, taking a deep breath in before responding. "If you look at the next thing scheduled-" "Yeah, skydiving? Into…" he trailed off. "The arena…" he sounded confused. "You've scheduled me for the beyblade match?" "Of course, the only way I could fit it in was if you get the helicopter from the landing pad, the roads are so busy that time of day," she said curtly. There was a long pause. "But why did you schedule it in the first place?" "Did you not want me to? I'm very sorry Mr Hiwatari, if you'd rather I cancel the beyblade match-" "No!" he snapped, although Isobel was sure she heard an amused huff of air zoom down the phone. She smiled. "If you would also take note of the practice session the day before- we don't want you falling to your death. That would be a lot of paperwork for the firm and I don't think your Grandfather would be too pleased." "Yeah…" "Undoubtedly you will defeat your opponent in a timely manner," she continued smartly, "which will allow you time to get in the car that I have scheduled at 19:00 to take you to dinner with your fiancée, followed by an evening of drinks at the rooftop whiskey bar with your colleagues." "I- right. What's the little glasses emoji you've put at the end of the battle for?" "Mr Saien will check your beyblade over after the battle. I've also scheduled myself to meet him on Monday to give your beyblade a check-up before the match." "You contacted Kenny?" "I did." There was silence on the line which Isobel assumed could only mean that Kai Hiwatari could not find one thing to complain about. "Right. Well, uh. Good. I would have preferred not to have to go to the dinner and drinks-" "I believe it is essential to appease those who do not approve of your beyblading pursuits." "Eh- right." Her boss let out a long sigh. "Mm. Yeah. Good job Olgivy," and the phone went dead. Isobel span wildly in her chair. Kai Hiwatari had said she had done a good job! He had never said that to her, ever, in her whole entire month of working for him! Maybe she would be good at this after all!

(can't help but feel that this would suit a KaiXHil fic too lol)