#so here I always get cold feet and need to ask for validation in form of a poll fhdjsk

[lavenoon]

okay real talk bc I'm still feeling weird about creating and inspiration. but I got yet another timeline (two, technically) for accidentally undercover and now the question is do I share that including the two drabbles that already exist for it, or do I just keep that in my pocket because. idk.

[chelseasdagger]

Restoring Faith

Father Paul Hill x Reader

Summary: You pay Father Paul one of your midnight visits and he finds himself struggling with his sworn devotion

Warnings: religious themes, sacrilege, smut, oral over clothes (m!receiving)

Author’s Note: This is a late birthday present for @chellestrash​ , my true love of my life, and I hope I’ve done this little idea you love justice :’) I’m absolutely positive I didn’t make it sounds as pretty as some of the other fics, but I hope it will be alright :)

Word Count: 4k

The cold air sends a shiver down your spine as the gravel crunches beneath your feet. Wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, you keep your head down to protect your face from the wind. You follow the path that connects the great big church to the smaller house just behind it, the trail only visible due to the moonlight pouring down from above.

You’re no idiot, you’re aware anybody could see your somewhat frequent visits to see him. However, you convinced yourself that it was okay to go, so long as you waited past midnight to take the trip. Whether it was actually a valid excuse was a whole other subject. One you didn’t particularly want to think of and potentially use to talk yourself out of doing this.

Stepping up the old, creaky stairs of the small porch, you give one last glance over your shoulder to the abandoned street the church faces. There’s not a person in sight and you raise your hand to knock on the wooden door.

It opens after a moment and you smile at the sight of the priest in front of you. He’s dressed completely in black, excluding the stark white collar that frames his neck. You can’t help your eyes from giving him a quick once over, taking in the dark button up shirt tucked into the form fitting slacks that drape down his legs. His voice calling your name brings your gaze back to his face.

“How…,” he trails off, craning his neck higher and looking past you, “how can I help you?” His greeting is stiff, and you know he’s worried about curious eyes possibly seeing you here. You can’t fight the way your lips pull into a smirk at the idea of him already getting nervous.

“I just had a question, Father,” you begin to explain, and notice him looking at you with cautious eyes. “Is that not what you said? That we can come to you and seek guidance? Ask questions about our faith?” You can admit that it was slightly unfair using his own words against him, but it works all the same. He bows his head before nodding once, silently stepping aside and allowing you to walk inside.

It’s the same as it always was, with the couch being the only real centerpiece to the room. The curtains are drawn closed on each of the windows and it gives the sense of seclusion from the rest of the small island. The three lamps that line the right wall are all lit, painting everything in a warm glow. You’ll never get over how welcoming his home was, how it provided a safe space when you needed an escape. 

The sound of the door clicking shut makes you turn around to face him. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, slightly hesitant as he stays silent and waits for you to speak first.

“Nobody saw me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you flash him a cheeky smirk. Paul responds wordlessly with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He steps further into the room, his arm brushing yours as he walks to the small, open kitchen area. 

“I haven’t seen you at Mass,” he finally breaks his silence. You watch as he grabs an empty glass from the drying rack beside the sink before filling it with water from the tap. “Can I get you anything?” he offers with wide eyes, motioning towards the cup in his hand.

“I was sick,” you pick the first thing that comes to mind, “allergy stuff since the weather is changing.” The lie rolls right off your tongue. You watch as he drinks his water down, fixating on the way his Adam's apple moves with each swallow. Giving yourself a mental shake, you answer his earlier question.

“And I’m okay, thanks,” you decline his offer as you lean against the back of the couch. The priest says nothing but gives a solemn look your way.

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he speaks gently into the quiet room. His dark, brown eyes look sincere, enforcing the truth behind his words. There’s a small pout on his lips and you’re not sure if it’s from your faux illness or if he can somehow sense that you’re not speaking the truth. Either way, he continues with the conversation.

“But I’m glad you’re feeling better. W-What can I do for you?” He sets his glass down on the small counter beside him. “You… um, mentioned seeking guidance? What about?” His eyes are focused onto yours and you find yourself only able to keep eye contact for a few seconds before his stare feels like too much. 

“Well,” you begin with a light laugh under your breath, “I just wanted to have you read to me again.” Your fingers toy with the thick seam of the couch cushion. “Is that okay? It just—it helps, is all.” You’re not certain the explanation makes a ton of sense, but there is truth behind it. His words help; it relaxes you to come and listen to him read, even if you don’t always find yourself secure in the faith you grew up with.

When you look up at him again, Paul is standing with a genuine smile on his face. It’s clear he likes hearing that he can help, and you feel a twinge of guilt shoot through your chest at how he genuinely enjoys what he does. It makes you being here that much worse, knowing how content and devout he is.

“Of course, I-I can do that,” he replies, his voice somehow even quieter than before. “Did you have a certain story you wanted me to read from?”

You think over his question for only a short moment. Deep down, you knew you could listen to him speak about even the most mundane things, including what he had eaten for breakfast. His voice was the thing to calm you, not the words he spoke.

“I don’t really care. Whatever you’d like, whatever we left off with,” you flash him a small smile. The priest nods only once before walking towards his bedroom, disappearing into the shadows of the small corridor leading to the door.

You let out a big breath of air you weren’t even aware you were holding in. Being alone with him felt good, it always did, but you couldn’t deny the guilt once again growing in your chest. Deep down, you knew this was wrong, but it always felt good when the guilt shaped to something else. Something stronger and impossibly difficult to ignore.

There’s only a small moment for self reflection before you hear his footsteps echoing out on the wood floor again. You glance towards the sound and find him returning back into the main room with the Bible wedged between his arm and his side. His fingers are busy, rolling the fabric of his long sleeve up to just above his elbow. As inch after inch of his skin is exposed, you find yourself unable to look away from the veins trailing up the inside of his arm.

He repeats his actions on the opposite side, gazing up at you from under the few strands of hair that have fallen out of place. Your lip finds its way between your teeth subconsciously, your own way of anchoring yourself and ignoring the need to tuck the loose curls back behind his ear.

“In moments where I truly begin to doubt my faith, I…” he trails off, fixing the last roll of his cuff over his forearm. He grabs the Bible and brushes his thumb over the raised letters as he continues, “I like to look back on the story of Job.”

You can’t even stop the exasperated sigh that leaves your body. He looks up at the sound, his head tilted slightly like a confused puppy.

“Job? Really, Father? I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of restoring faith,” you curl your fingers to create air quotes over the last two words. Paul gives a small smile, lowering his head. He’s dealt with your opinions regarding faith and why God allows things to happen as He does.

“Maybe… maybe to some but I-I find that it’s a reminder,” his voice is quiet and calm, already slipping into his usual pattern of speech when he’s behind the lectern. He steps deeper into the living room and passes by you, making his way to the empty couch.

“A reminder to trust in Him even when we’re not sure of-of the path,” he finishes. You’re thankful he’s behind your back so he doesn’t see the way your eyes roll at his canned response. He must’ve seen the tension in your body though, taking note of the way your arms are still crossed over your chest, because he tries once more to get you to listen.

“You do remember that he was rewarded? In the end?”

“Yeah, but he went through hell to get it… hardly seems fair,” you answer him.

“Well, the Lord, He—,”

“If you say ‘Works in mysterious ways’…” you cut him off with a warning glare as you finally turn to face him.

Paul lets out a breathy laugh, staring down at the thick book in his hands. “I was only going to say that He doesn’t always…” he pauses for a moment, searching for the right words, “reveal His plans to us in a way that makes sense at the time. That’s all,” he finishes with a tight-lipped smile.

There’s a brief moment of silence that hangs in the air as you wait for him to move past this conversation. His quick inhale fills the room as he clears his throat quietly, his arm gesturing towards the couch.

“Shall we?”

“Of course,” you respond softly, your words tucked under your breath. He walks around to the front of the couch, his eyes fixed on you as you follow his path. He sits down as his fingers curl around the blue, knitted blanket that’s sprawled out across the cushion beside him.

“Here, let me—,” he doesn’t finish his sentence before draping it across the back of the couch. There’s a spot for you now, close enough that you knew you’d be touching him if you sat beside him. As tempting as the offer is, you find yourself shaking your head gently.

“Is-is something wrong?” he asks, his big, dark eyes searching yours. They’re wide and innocent, truly worrying that he overstepped. Once again, you’re reminded of how pure the man before you is; you nearly reconsider your original idea that made you seek him out tonight in the first place.

You shake your head as you stand in front of him, silently kneeling down and sitting on the floor. The priest’s expression instantly grows apprehensive. You flash him an innocent smile but his unsure glare never falters.

“I’ll just listen from here,” you tell him, trying to ease his worries. He looks hesitant but eventually swallows before opening the Bible. His long fingers splay out across the thin pages, turning them one after the other before finally stopping on a page.

He opens his mouth to speak, the words flowing effortlessly off of his tongue. His voice falls into the deep, rumbly tone that you only ever hear when he’s reading to you. There’s no audience, no image he has to maintain, and the words are so quiet it seems almost as if he’s reading to himself. You’ve always preferred these moments, when he appeared the most authentic he could be.

The more he reads the more comfortable you feel. Your body begins to relax and an idea strikes up in your mind. As he turns the next page, bringing in a deep inhale to continue the sentence, you let your head rest against his knee.

He immediately stutters over his words, repeating the same sound over and over. He never breaks his concentration though, and eventually pushes through and finishes the sentence. Not before flashing you a warning look as you rest your cheek against his leg, though.

It isn’t entirely inappropriate and would even be seen as a normal, platonic gesture. But given his profession, you knew it was absolutely not appropriate. You don’t pull away however, just keep your body slumped against his leg.

He continues speaking the old words, his pronounced sentences dissipating into muttered whispers the longer he goes on. Admittedly, you felt special that this tone was reserved only for you; there was a faint flare of pride in your chest knowing that you were the only one to hear his words so rumbly it’s as if they never fully left his chest.

At some point though, you begin to grow bored of just sitting there and waiting for him to finish. Usually these late night reads brought your anxiety down enough just to fall asleep on the priest, leaving him in the most awkward position of not knowing how to convince himself any of this was okay. But right now, you’d rather have some fun.

Paul knew something was up the second he saw your hand reaching towards him out of the corner of his eye. The muscles in his leg immediately tense, you feel it from under your skin. But you don’t want to raise his suspicion so soon.

Stretching further towards the Bible in his lap, you spread your fingers and place both palms over each side. Once his view is completely shielded from the printed words, he immediately looks into your mischievous eyes.

“What—what are you doing?” he asks confusedly. His eyebrows are pulled together as he awaits your answer.

“Just wanted to see how much you knew,” you reply genuinely. You knew the man had poured over this book time and time again, searching for meanings deeper than the blatant lessons that were spelled out for the reader. It always sent a conflicting feeling coursing through you, the way he could recite word after word from memory as if he was the one who had conjured them up. Conflicting because you liked the reminder of how devout he was, and isn’t that just a multifaceted guilt trip.

Paul smiles at your youthful game, and mentally accepts the challenge. He parts his lips before the words fall from his tongue.

“And when the days of the feast had run their course, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all,” he begins, never looking away from your face as he repeats them with no hesitation.

“For Job said, ‘It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.’” The priest can’t stop from chuckling at the end of his sentence, having looked at your own genuine, bright grin. “Thus Job did continually.”

Once he’s finished, he flashes you his own smile before glancing down at your hands covering the pages still. You slowly remove them, giggling under your breath at how he passed your unofficial test.

The priest licks his lips once before clearing his throat gently, continuing again with his reading. As the minutes pass, you find yourself not paying much attention to the actual weight of the words. You just focus on his muttering voice until you're reminded of how sweet his last stutter sounded. And because you just can’t help yourself, you’re determined to hear it again.

Snaking your hand up his thigh, you feel his body grow stiff all over again. That adorable stutter becomes prominent once more, his eyes quickly focusing on your fingers rubbing up the inside of his leg as he attempts to finish the paragraph. Trying to pace your plan, you curl your fingers around his thigh and give him a moment to get used to the feeling.

“What are you doing?” These words are the coldest he’s spoken all night, yet you stay silent and wait. It takes him longer this time to finally react, to give his consent in the smallest agreement possible. It’s so minuscule that anybody else wouldn’t have noticed, but you know him awfully more than you should.

Half a nod. That’s all it takes, and you let your fingers graze lightly over the black slacks. They're taught from how he’s sitting, and you can see the outline of his thigh through the stretched material. His voice shakes now, the tone less steady and sure, as he forces himself to keep reading.

You’ve got to admit he’s doing better than you thought. He doesn’t stop reading, you assume he’s just trying to focus on something else, anything but your hand moving between his thighs. You must’ve hit a sweet spot though, inching near the little alcove where his thigh meets his hip, because the next thing you hear is a shuddering exhale as he halts his reading. 

And there it is only a second later—the outline of his cock showing through the dark dress pants. It never took very long, although this time it seems even quicker than usual. He continues to grow there, until you can see the fabric straining to accommodate for his now swollen head. You’ve barely touched him and he’s already so responsive.

Now that you can physically see the effect you have on him, there’s truly nothing that can stop you. Sure the nagging guilt is still in the back of your mind, telling you that you shouldn’t do this, but you push it away as much as you can. He looks so tempting right now: the loose strands of hair falling into his face, his lip caught between his teeth as he suppresses his groans, the faint twitch his cock gives when he feels your finger lightly drag along the base of his length. You love seeing him this desperate for you.

Your one finger lightly tracing the length of him is truly all it takes for the first twitch to happen in his trousers. The sight makes your mouth nearly water and you finally curl your fingers around him properly. Your grip isn’t too tight considering it’s over two layers of clothes, but it doesn’t stop the choked grunt from finally escaping his lips.

Still you continue, leaning closer until your breath is fanning over the bulge. He feels it, you can tell from the way his fingers clutch the book that’s resting on his other leg. The veins in the back of his hand become more prominent the harder he grabs it. Every part of his body is conflicting itself; he wants it but he knows he shouldn’t.

Still you wait, staring up at him and silently asking again if this is okay. He doesn’t stall as much this time—his eyes squeeze shut tightly before nodding quickly again, forcing another inhale through his nose.

You don’t waste a second and quickly press your tongue flat against the outline of his tip. Slowly licking along the length, you watch his body reel from how hard his stomach clenches at the feeling. He begins to shut the Bible but you grab his wrist before it can close all the way. You shake your head slowly, attempting to convince him to keep it open.

“Y…You know I can’t.”

“I like hearing you, Father,” you mumble quietly in the room. He stares down at you with an expression you can’t quite describe. There’s no emotion on his face, but his eyes look pained, no doubt from the name you referred to him as. He hardly moves except for the shallow breaths that you can only notice because of how close you are to him.

Waiting for his reaction seems to drag on for hours before he finally sighs through his nose and opens the book. You notice the way his fingers shake as he smooths out the page before trying to remember where he left off. Your lips pull into a smile as you hear his strained voice fill the room.

Squeezing the base of his cock tighter, you drag your tongue across his tip again before wrapping your lips around it. The story is cut off with his deep grunt, and you hum around him at the pleasant noise. The priest has his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling as he tries to regain his composure.

You knew this was an awful, sacrilegious act you two were doing, but it doesn’t stop the heat growing between your legs. Leaning closer into him, you work your mouth on him faster, sucking harder through the fabric. His hand closest to you grips the edge of the seat as he seethes through his teeth.

Paul finally looks down at you, staring into your eyes that have never once left his face. You hold his gaze before glancing wordlessly to the book still in his hand. The whimper that he barely slips out is your new favorite sound, replaying it in your head as you shut your eyes.

“A-As long as… m…my breath,” he’s cut off with a shaky inhale. He tries to read aloud, but his voice trembles the entire time.

“Keep going, Father,” you pull your mouth away from the outline in his black trousers to encourage him. There’s a long, dark stripe along the fabric from your tongue, but another wet patch where the head of his cock is straining against the material.

“As long as my-my breath is in me, and t-the spirit of God is in my nostrils—,” he’s finding each word more impossible to speak. You never allow him to give up though, rubbing your hand over his thigh to support him.

“My lips will not speak f…falsehood, and my tongue will not utter deceit.” He manages to finish the paragraph before taking deep breaths, swallowing thickly and trying his damndest to not look at the sinful scene in his lap. But his body betrays him once more, twitching into your mouth when you hum sweetly around him as a reward for finishing what you asked him to.

Pressing your tongue right in the ridge under his swollen head, you hear a new sound escape his pressed lips. It's a guttural, raw twist of your name and it’s unexpected.

“Oh… Oh—Wait,” he tries to warn you but it’s much too late. His release happens without him realizing, his body moving while his mind doesn’t have a chance to catch up. When you feel him pulsing in your mouth you glance up at him and oh, what a sight it is.

He’s completely disheveled, biting down into his hand to muffle the noise he’s ashamed for anyone to hear, and the veins in his neck are protruding just above the edge of his collar. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, but you always make sure to memorize the sight down to those details. To always keep the picture in your mind.

What really catches your attention though, is the stream of white bubbling up through the taught fabric around his sensitive tip. You didn’t realize he would have finished quite this fast, but you definitely don’t mind it. Squeezing the middle of his length tightly, you slowly slide your hand up, determined to get all of it out of him.

Paul’s thighs are beginning to shake from the sensation and you can only imagine how good it must feel for him. You stick your tongue out as you lap up the mess he’s made, and his thighs jolt to close around your body. His sensitivity to your every touch leaves a desire that burns hotly in the bottom of your stomach. You love the feeling of having power over him, admittedly too much.

Once he’s clean, you finally let go of him altogether and sit back on your legs. He’s left panting in awe as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You wish you could see inside his head, try and understand what he’s thinking. But right now his dark eyes are glossed over and he looks as if he’s somewhere completely else.

“Thank you, Father.”

He scrunches his eyes shut tightly the second the words fill the air. It’s silent except for his panting as you rest your head on his knee once more. This time it is a platonic action, your way of showing him you’re there without words. And there you sit beside your priest in the small, old house behind the great big church, with the weight of everything that just happened.

[bejeweledblondie]

The Great War

Alex Keller x F! Reader

Summary: Alex gets caught red handed with Farrah while on FaceTime with Y/N & has to make it up to her when he returns

Warnings: angst, cheating, I saw the Eras Tour movie last night & I got inspo from the Midnights set

Your stomach was in knots, Alex had never usually missed your scheduled FaceTime call, but when he did he always had a good excuse. The risk of calling was sometimes a matter of exposing his location to the enemy. You wanted Alex to come home safely. But this time he had no valid excuse, & didn’t have any reasoning as to why he didn’t call. So here you say on FaceTime in silence with him as you ate your now cold dinner. Trying to get an answer out of him was like pulling teeth. He only gave one worded answers with no emotion.

“Are you okay babe?” You asked with concerned tone putting down your fork. His job was beyond stressful & you could tell something was weighing on his mind. You chalked it up to him being stressed out from work, attempting to calm your anxieties.

“Just tired.” He replied shrugging his shoulders. A knock at his door drew his attention & he suddenly perked up. Confusion ran through your veins as you watched him suddenly not be “tired” anymore. “My love, Price is here to talk. I love you & I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He said.

“I love you too. Goodnight handsome tell Price I say hello!” You replied blowing him a kiss. You got up from your seat to put your plate in the sink thinking Alex ended the call. That was up until you were in your kitchen & heard soft moaning coming from your desk. Immediately your heart started to pound, & a pit of anxiousness started to form in your stomach. You slowly walked into your living room & sat down at your desk. As soon as your eyes were on the screen you had to cover your mouth from admitting a loud sob. Alex was on top of another woman, kissing her. You knew exactly who she was. The girl he told you not to worry about, the girl who occupied your time with him, Farrah. You removed your hand & wiped the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

“Alex?!” You sobbed out. He froze while Farrah turned to see the phone on his desk propped up still on FaceTime. “How could you do this to me?!” You screamed out of anger & feeling of betrayal.

“Sweetheart I-“ He was rushing to his phone to start some ridiculous excuse for his actions. You immediately turned off the call & let out a painful wail. Your whole body shook as you crumpled to the floor. A part of you was almost thankful you hadn’t officially fully moved in with him. You were due to move in next week when he returned. Your body felt rigid & frozen as you sat on the floor staring at the wall in front of you.

The constant vibration of your phone going off started to blend in with the background noise of your air conditioner. Alex knew your heart was glass, you told him how fragile you were from past relationships & he shattered it into a million pieces. He was just like the rest of them. It stung like a thousand wasps stinging you over & over again. The conversations of him reassuring you that there was nothing going on with him & Farrah replayed in your head like a movie stuck on replay. You wanted to slap some sense into your past self & tell yourself to trust your gut.

You decided to take the next days off from work, & notified Price to tell Alex to cut contact. Time & space were needed for you to heal. But even with all of that you felt like you were in the shell of your former self. You were dragging your feet everywhere, & everything reminded you of Alex. The ghosts of his presence haunted you everyday. Dark bags started to form under your eyes & your hair was starting to become dull. No amount of product or even sleep could improve your health.

After a few weeks you slowly started to function somewhat normally. You took up a new hobby, painting & were able to start your healing process. It helped you get out of your apartment but still be able to be alone. So here you sat, in the local park painting. Keeping to yourself & living in your own bubble. Soon a dark shadow appeared overhead, blocking your natural lighting. Groaning to yourself you looked up to see the familiar pair of beat up Vans. You didn’t even bother to look fully up.

“What do you want?” You grumbled angrily at his presence. The audacity of this man astonished you.

“I want to talk.” He replied softly. He knew he royally fucked up. As soon as he looked up at the phone to see her face on the opposite end heartbroken. Instant regret hit him like a freight train. What was even more difficult & added more stress was the lack of trust he had now developed with his team. After you had texted Price asking for him to speak to Alex & word got out at what he had done. Trust was completely broken, because if you could cheat on your beloved how could you be trusted in a life & death situation.

“I don’t.” You replied bluntly, starting to put your art supplies as the park was now ruined. You got up on your feet & went to go leave. He hand grabbed your wrist preventing you from walking away. “Let go of me.” You commanded trying to wiggle away.

“Please Y/N.” He begged. You looked into his eyes, they were as equally as sad looking as yours. When he grabbed your wrist you felt the same electric touch as you did the first night you met. The angel & devil that sat on your shoulders were in a full out war trying to figure out to give him a chance to redeem himself. “Just give me ten minutes.”

“Fine.” You replied. The both of you chose a small bench that overlooked the pond. For a moment the two of you sat in silence. Then you turned to look at him. “You really hurt me Alex.” You softly said trying to prevent tears from spilling. “And to think now naive I was. I wanted to marry you.” He just stared back at you speechless.

“I know I hurt you.” He replied. “It by far has to be the most regrettable thing I’ve ever done in my life. Knowing I destroyed you-“ you cut him off.

“You’re only sad because you got caught.” You snapped. “If you truly cared about me & loved me you wouldn’t have kissed her.” Now you were full on sobbing. “Just please be honest with me.”

“That was the first time I kissed her.” Alex said. “I swear on my life.” He said in a serious tone. “We had a strictly professional relationship, I had empathy for her situation & it snowballed form there. She kissed me first & my fucking stupid self continued it.” You just sat there staring out at the pond trying to soak in Alex’s words. “I was a selfish prick & thought about myself over you.”

“Why did you try to find me Alex?” You whispered out.

“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t get to see you one last time.” Alex said. “I wouldn’t know how to be able to move on if I didn’t get to say what I had to.” The two of you sat in silence again as the sounds of nature filled the air. You both watched an old couple in a small row boat go past clearly on a date. It reminded you of the time you & Alex went kayaking. His canoe tipped over & while you were trying to help him you fell on top of him.

“That reminds me of when we went kayaking.” You softly said. “I still think you yanked me out of the canoe.”

“Hey!” Alex said defensively. “I did not you just fell out.” You had to stifle a laugh thinking about it. There was still of piece of you where all you wanted to was wrap your arms around him. You missed him, beyond words. He was your whole world.

“Alex.” You started & looked at him. He turned to you & placed a hand on your cheek. You leaned tenderly into his touch that you missed so dearly. “I miss you.” You whispered tears now falling again. He placed another hand on your waist & pulled you in for a deep kiss. Once you unlocked lips your foreheads rested against each other.

“I’m right here my love.” He whispered. You two survived the Great War.

[smutsonian]

Baby if you're taking requests can you do a slight darkish! Step daddy Ransom x naive!reader with daddy kink and innocence kink? The marriage was kinda a deal for money and like reader's mother died after marrying him due to some disease or accident and that has left her alone in Ransom's custody. Feel free to use any other kinks or things you like,also if you don't feel comfortable with any of the above mentioned kinks then you don't have to use them.❤️ I love you and your writings!!!😘

getting his little angel

ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: soft!dark!ransom drysdale, innocent!reader, dub-con/non-con, smut, stepdaddy!ransom, loss of virginity (i cringe), fingering, daddy kink, innocence kink, guided handjob, like one slap in the p, manipulation?, obsession, size kink?, creampie, corruption, ransom’s fucked up mind, age gap(reader is of age), death, the amount of the word angel and daddy used in this fic is annoying and cringe for me, this is dark and twisted so proceed with caution if you choose to proceed, don’t read if you aint fvcking with this type of sh*t

word count: 4105

an: THANK YOU NONNIE AND I LOVEYOU!!///i keep begging my friend to read the stories i write for validation and we are both getting tired of me writing the word daddy and me showing how obsessed i am with ddlg wtf anywayy... have fun with this one 😩 alsoo, gif aint mine

masterlist

Ransom married the woman for the sake of her money but he never thought of her daughter to be the treasure he’ll truly get from the woman. The daughter isn’t like every other young adult he’s ever met or bedded with. The daughter of the woman he married is different. Not a vicious little bitch like his cousin, Meg. No… The girl is different. An innocent pure little soul just living with him, there for the taking. A little angel that will give him joy and luck in his life. 

 And just his luck, and as evil as it sounds, he got blessed when his wife started to become sick just after a few months into their marriage. His wife becoming ill became the reason for him to bond with his little angel so he can comfort her and he became the man she found solace in. She started trusting him.

 And then the wife died, leaving Ransom with all her treasure. Including Y/N Y/L/N. The greatest treasure that he will ever have. He had to thank his wife for leaving you to him. For leaving you broken-hearted because he had no problem with taking care of you and helping you stand right back up on your feet. He wanted to do all that. He wanted you to believe that he’s the only person that you will ever need in your life. 

His little angel.

 It took a few months for you to stop sobbing every single night in Ransom’s chest as he cuddled you to sleep and another few months until the bundle of joy you were before started showing itself again. 

 The moment you laughed at Ransom’s jokes for the first time had him frozen in place as he watched your teeth shining as the corners of your lips curled up into a toothy grin. Ransom was captivated. He was captivated at the sight of you laughing genuinely for the first time after your mother’s death and he wanted to take a photo and frame it so he can look at it every single night before he falls asleep and every single morning when he wakes up. He wants to see your smiling face every time he wakes and before he falls asleep, knowing that he’s the reason for that enchanting smile.

 “Is something wrong?” Your small voice brings Ransom back to reality and he realized that you have stopped laughing, the beautiful smile on your face replaced by a frowning confused one instead.

 Ransom ignored your question, walking towards you and trapping you against the kitchen counter. He wears a smirk before using his big hands to brush your hair smoothly, the coldness of the ring on his pinky finger brushing against your cheek gently. Ransom bites his bottom lip as he looks at your innocent eyes staring right back at him, your head tilted up so you can see his face clearly.

 One hand moves to your chin and his thumb brushes your bottom lip, softly rubbing on it while Ransom’s mind went somewhere else where your mouth is wrapped around his cock as you sport your usual innocent look, asking him for help on how to pleasure him. Daddy’s little angel.

 Ransom pulled his hand away from your face before silently groaning at how his slacks became tighter as his crotch started getting hard at the thought of your mouth around his cock.

 “You know you look so pretty when you laugh.” He sighs out before patting you on the head and walking towards the door before stopping and turning back to look at you palming your own cheeks as you wear a small smile. His heart skips a beat for a second before he nods at you.

 “I like seeing you smile, angel. I wish you would do it more often. It’ll make this old man happier.” He wiggles an eyebrow at you before chuckling at the sight of you laughing once more.

 “There it iss” He smiles at your shaking form, wondering what you would look like if you were shaking for other reasons…

 “You’re not that old, Ransom!” You say in between your laughs and Ransom couldn’t remove the grin on his face as he watches you laugh at him.

 “Oh you’re laughing at me, are you?” Ransom quirks an eyebrow and watches you as you stop laughing, looking at him with a faux frightened look before he started running after you, eyes ringing in delight when you squeaked against his hold when he caught you, his fingers poking on your sides with no mercy.

 “No! No more!” You gasp for air as you continue to laugh.

 “R-Ransom!” You whined and just like the few other times, Ransom’s mind went into a gutter. Would this be how you sound when you’re moaning his name while he pleasures you? 

 Ransom pulls his hand away from you before letting out a breathy laugh. “Alright, angel… See that smile is so adorable on you!” He pinches both of your cheeks before laughing at the way you glared at him.

 “No more tickles, Ransom. That hurts my sides.” You groaned before walking away from him only to be stopped by him pulling you back against his chest. His chin was on the top of your head before he mumbled an apology. “I’m sorry, angel. I wouldn’t do it again. Don’t be mad at your daddy now.” You pull away from him, watching him pout at you. You curiously raise an eyebrow before shaking your head with a laugh. “It’s okay.” You grin before grumbling when he messes the top of your head with his huge hand.

 Ransom didn’t miss the way your face contorted into a confused look when he tried to get you to call him daddy. He’s been there for you a long time now. It’s time for you to be there for him as well. And Ransom is a really needy man with a lot of need when it comes to you.

No worries.

 He’ll make sure to teach you everything you have to know to be his perfect little angel.

 Ransom was sat on one of the lavish chairs that your mother used to obsess about when she was still alive while he’s munching on some biscuits that he got from the pantry. He silently thanks the old lady who still does the groceries for the both of you. He stares back at the screen that’s currently playing one of those rom-coms that he always found ridiculous but entertaining.

Lost in his own thoughts, Ransom absentmindedly looks at the hallway that leads towards the kitchen only to see you skipping into the kitchen in a pair of leggings and a sweater that he gave you as a gift. He smiled at the thought of you wearing his sweater instead. Preferably after he’s done giving you an intense orgasm.

Feeling a bit hotter, Ransom removes his coat, leaving him in his soft white sweater. He lets out a grunt, fixing himself on the sofa and turning back towards the flat-screen tv. His hand wanders down to his pants, palming himself through his slacks while his other hand reaches for another biscuit.

Ransom’s heart jumped when you suddenly plopped yourself down on the sofa, legs on top of his thighs while the hand that was palming himself flies towards the air before landing on your legs.

“HEY, those are my favorite!” You point towards the biscuit that he was currently munching on. Ransom’s jaw clenches at the discomfort in his pants while your legs brush against his raging hard on. There’s no doubt that you have no idea what you’re doing to him or what your legs are currently brushing up against.

“Can I have some?” You give him a pleading look that only made his cock harder. He bites his lip as he squeezes your legs. “You gotta ask nicely, angel…”

“Can I please have some?” You repeat, voice as sweet as honey and the cause of the precum that slowly slicks the slit of Ransom’s thick girth.

Ransom lets out a groan before snatching a piece of biscuit and moving it towards your mouth, snatching it back when you went to take it from him.

“Ah-ah-ah. We’ve been together for a long time now… Is that right, my little angel?” Ransom laughs at your frown before you’re nodding at him curiously.

“I think it’s time that you call me daddy, right? I mean… I’ve been taking care of you, right? I’ve been treating you with so much love, is that right?” Ransom lets out a moan shamelessly at the sight of your innocent face nodding at him unknowingly. “You’ve been treating me very well…” You mumble under your breath but Ransom still heard you.

“Yeah… I’ve been treating you like my best girl. Like the best girl you are.” He brushes his pinky across your cheeks before pressing the piece of biscuit onto your bottom lip. He gave you a stern look before shaking his head when you went to open your mouth.

“You gotta ask nicely, angel… Who are you asking and what are you asking for hmm?” He leaned down towards the side of your face to sniff on your hair, chest grumbling in delight at your scent.

“Can I please have a biscuit, daddy?”

Ransom inhaled obnoxiously loud before smirking while nodding his head at you. “Such a polite little angel, aren’t you? Of course you can… Here, open that precious mouth.” He taps the biscuit on your bottom lip, shoving it gently inside your mouth, purposely grazing his fingers down your tongue. He watches you chew on the biscuit as you stared right back at him with those innocent eyes. His fingers massaged your chin as you chew, shoving them right back inside your mouth when he sees you swallow the biscuit.

 “Is it good?” He asks you, fingers assaulting the inside of your mouth. You nod your head, hands grasping the wrist that’s connected to the fingers in your mouth. Ransom felt you tugging his hand away but he only shoved his fingers further down your mouth, slightly pulling away when you started gagging on his fingers.

He lets out a chuckle before pulling his fingers completely out of your mouth, admiring the string of saliva that connected from your lips to his fingers. “Daddy has a lot of things to teach you…” He leans back before manipulating your body until your back was against his chest and your legs were spread apart by his own legs.

He takes another biscuit before shoving it into your mouth, fingers gripping your jaw as you chewed on the food, crumbs staining the sides of your mouth. “Just like that” He grumbles against your hair before skillfully tugging your leggings and underwear down until they were all the way down to your ankles. He didn’t give you enough to complain because his fingers were back inside your mouth, playing with your tongue and playfully teasing the back of your throat.

“Breathe through your nose, angel. Relax for daddy.” He whispers in your ear while his free hand caresses your face. “There ya go… Such a fast learner, aren’t ya?” He lets out a laugh before kissing your cheek and removing his fingers from your mouth. “You get a reward for being such a good girl”

Ransom’s wet fingers goes straight to your crotch while his other arm wraps itself around your torso to pull you closer to his body. His legs kept your thighs open so it was easy for him to tease the nub on your crotch.

“R-ransom…”

You let out a loud squeak when he slaps your pussy, legs shaking against his legs while he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“What’d I tell you to call me hmm? Come on, I know you’re a smart little angel.” He resumes playing with your clit, enjoying how responsive your body is to his touch.

“Nggghh” You squirm against his hold, chest heaving as she struggled to control her breathing. Ransom is willing to bet your mother’s fortune that you never experienced this type of feeling before. “Tell me what you’re feeling, angel”, he starts flicking his fingers faster until your crying desperately and hiding your face against his arm. He stops assaulting your clit, hands finding its way to your face to comfort you with smooth caresses. Ransom admires the sweat that started to form on your forehead and decides to remove the sweater you’re wearing.

Too out of it, you let him fully undress you, too tired and dazed to acknowledge the fact that you’re lying naked on your guardian’s chest. “That feel good?” Ransom asks, urging you to speak to him but loving the way that you laid limp against his chest. Oh it’s so easy to please his little angel. He hasn’t even made you cum yet.

“F-feels good…” Ransom watches you bite your bottom lip, his hold against you getting tighter as his cock gets harder at the sight of you.

“I can make you feel better than that, angel… You just gotta ask nicely. Just like how you asked for the biscuits. Do you want daddy to make you feel good?” His hand find itself back to your pussy, fingers starting its attack on your sensitive clit once more. He wasted no time in trying to get you off because in no time, he feels your body shaking against his and he knows that you’re close.

“You gotta ask for it nicely, angel… Tell daddy what you want” Ransom demands, the arm that was wrapped around your torso finds its way towards your breasts, massaging one and pinching the hard nipple. You whine out loud before gasping for air as you tried to speak coherent words.

“Daddy can y-you p-please…”

Ransom chuckles at your lack of words. Of course his little angel wouldn’t know what to ask for.

“You want daddy to make you cum?” He suggests, knowing that his smart angel would get what he wants her to do.

“D-daddy, can you please m-make me cum?” You repeat, words hoarse but understandable by a proud Ransom who starts rubbing your wet clit faster as he bends his head down to suck on the tit his massaging.

 “HHNNNNGGG!” You whine loudly, going stiff against Ransom’s hold before shaking tremendously as you reach your very first orgasm. Ransom’s hips thrust against your back as he gets needy from the sounds you’re making and the sight of your body trembling against his. He starts running his hands all over your body, whispering praises against your ears to comfort you.

“Such an angel…” He kisses the side of your face before guiding your body gently back to the sofa so you’re sitting beside him. “That feel good?” He asks, licking and sucking on the fingers he used to make you cum.

“Mhhmm…” You nod as you mumbled your answer, too embarrassed in front of him. “Don’t be shy, angel… You’re just being a good girl. Wanna know why I made you feel good?” Ransom waits for you to nod before continuing with a smile.

“Because you were such a good girl!” He nudges your chin with his fingers before placing his large palms on your shoulders. “And good girls always get rewards from their daddies. What do you say huh? Wanna be a good girl and help daddy with his problem?” He palms his covered crotch before smirking at your wondering eyes that’s looking down at his bulge. His jaw clenches at the sight of your curious face.

“H-how can I h-help?” Ransom chuckles at your nervousness before taking hold of your hand and guiding it towards his bulge. He watches your face as he makes you palm his hard on, thrusting against your touch in neediness and groaning at your tongue wetting your own lips.

Ransom releases your hand before tugging his slacks down and taking them off before sitting back on the sofa and taking your hand once more, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft and moaning loudly at the pleasure you’re currently giving him. “That’s it angel… Ahh fuck!” He guides your hand into a faster stroke, wrapping your fingers around his cock tighter as he thrusts his hips against your hand, groaning loudly and shouting praises towards you. “Such a fucking good girl!” His eyes shut tightly as he feels himself getting closer.

“Fuck!” He hisses, abruptly pulling your hand away from his cock, chest heaving as he tries to slow down his breathing. “You almost made me cum” He mutters, laughing silently when you started to mumble out apologies.

“No, my little angel. That’s not a bad thing… I just want to cum somewhere else…” Ransom bites his lip before removing his white sweater and tossing it on the floor. In a heartbeat, he’s on top of you, fingers running all over your body in a comforting manner.

“You want your reward, sweetie?” Ransom asks with a teasing tone. “You’ve been such a good girl. I think it’s time for another reward.”

Your eyes widen in shock when you feel his lips against yours, gasping when his tongue started to poke its way through your lips before assaulting the inside of your mouth like his fingers did earlier.

Ransom’s mind started ringing when you started moaning and whimpering against his lips. Oh he’ll make his little angel feel so good. He’ll make you feel so full.

He managed to situate himself in between your legs while continuing the sloppy and needy kiss you two were having. He strokes his already painfully hard cock with one hand before sliding it against your folds to lube himself up with your juices.

He pulls away from the kiss as he lines his cock against your slit, smiling at the way that your legs shake when he bumps your sensitive clit with the hard head of his cock.

Ransom’s smile falters slightly when your hands start to push on his chest. “I-I’m scared”, your voice trembles as you try to push him which is really useless because his huge frame doesn’t move an inch.

Ransom takes both of your hands with one of his huge ones before trapping them above your head and diving down to capture your lips into another hungry kiss. “Don’t be scared. I promise to make you feel so good”, he says through the kisses, licking your tears away before resuming his wet kisses on your mouth. “You want me to make you feel so good, right angel?” Ransom smiles through the kiss as he feels your hesitant nod.

Ransom holds your hands tightly with one hand while the other hold caresses the side of your face in a comforting manner as he shoves his hard and thick cock into your tight hole, swallowing your cries with his hungry kisses. The hand that was caressing your face wipes your tears away as he shushes you. “It’s going to feel so good in a bit angel. I promise.” He stays inside your cunt for a while, making you feel weird at the fullness that his cock is giving your untouched pussy.

When Ransom feels your hips bucking up against his, he smiles and looks down at you with bright eyes. “You okay now? Want me to move?” Ransom gets an eager nod as a response and he only let out a short laugh before starting to pull out and shoving back into your tight cunt with a loud grunt. “So. Fucking. Tight.”, he hisses with each thrust.

“Mmmf. Mmm. Oomph.” Your moans and whines start to get louder as Ransom’s thrusts get sloppier because of the wetness that your cunt continues to produce. “Oh fuck you’re so wet for me angel”, Ransom watches his cock pound into you and he almost cums at the sight but he’s determined to make his little angel cum again before he could spill himself inside of her pretty pussy.

Ransom lets out a grunt before easily manipulating both of your bodies so you were straddling him, his cock still deep inside your cunt.

He places your hands on his shoulders for support before moving his hands on your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. “I’ll teach you how to ride daddy like a good girl soon but--”, he lifts you up and makes you stay in that position before moving one hand closer to your cunt so his thumb can start playing with your clit again. “—but for now, I’ll just ram into this tight pretty pussy”. Your eyes slams shut and your head falls on his shoulder when he thrusts his hips up in strong stroke, hands gripping you tightly as he guides your body against his, skin slapping each other as he pounds your pussy from under you.

He uses his other hand to push your shoulder away from him so he can see you clearly. “NGHH AH s-soo good!” Ransom watches you bounce on his cock while your eyes opened to look at him with those innocent eyes. How can you still look so innocent while he’s under you, making you take his cock as a fucking whore would.

“D-daddy s-so good”, your face is in a daze as Ransom doubled his efforts seeing you so close and feeling himself getting close as well. “Daddy making you feel good hmm?” He slams and slams his cock into you with vigor that it would probably leave you with a sore pussy for a few days.

Your shoulder starts quivering and Ransom feels you trying to stop him from bouncing you on his cock but he ignored it and continued to control your body. He slams his cock into your cunt a few more times, thumb rubbing your clit faster until you’re crying out loud as another orgasm hits you.

Ransom watches your eyes rolling back and your mouth opening as loud moans escape your mouth. He leans forwards to capture your lips once more before giving you a few more thrusts until he feels his balls tightening and snapping as spurts of cum come out of him and into your wet hole.

He lets your body fall on him as he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back comfortingly and rocking you slightly that earns a whimper from you when he accidentally moves his cock that’s still inside of you.

He waits for the both of you to catch your breath before gently pulling his cock out of you and bending down to snatch his sweater off the floor.

He looks back at your face, your eyes fluttering as tiredness starts to envelop your body. He puts his sweater on you, smiling at how you look in his sweater. You look so much better in his sweater. And you look so beautiful with his cum dripping out of your cunt and face glowing at how he fucked you so good.

He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead then your lips. “You okay angel?” He laughs at you when you only nod sleepily at him. He picks his slacks up from the ground before putting it on and then he picks up your old sweater and uses it to clean you up, gently wiping his cum off your thighs.

He stands back up to admire you, so beautifully fucked. He’ll forever remember the way your pussy pulsed around his cock as he cums inside of you.

He lets out a dreamy sigh before picking your sleepy body up and walking towards the hallway, passing by your old room and into his room. Your room.

He lays you down on the bed as gently as he could before smiling when your face contorts into a frown when you groggily look at him. “How are you feeling angel?”

“G-good but tired.” Your quiet voice touches Ransom’s heart and he could only take a blanket before laying down beside you and tucking the both of you in. He presses a kiss on the side of your head before whispering a “sleep tight, my little angel.”

Ransom was about to close his eyes when he hears your voice again, making his heart leap out of his chest.

“I like being daddy’s good girl.”

Oh Ransom loves that too and he has a feeling that his little angel will continue to become his pretty little good girl so she’ll get all the rewards she can get.

And Ransom is willing to give you all the rewards he can give because you’re his one and only good little angel.

-------

an: no eating out or gobbling on the d cuz come onn... they were just eating those damn biscuits 🤧

taglist

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @evnscvll @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson Anything Chris: @patzammit @princess-evans-addict @shadowcatsworld @notyourtypicalrose @onetwo3000

this fic: @kyrarose16 @tokoyamisstuff

[to-star-lake]

An early scene from the let you go verse ✿☾

--

Geto had never seen anyone move that fast.

Sure, Gojo’s fast, and so is he, but you-

You were a veritable storm of movement, a blur of speed and precision.

He fanned his hand in front of his face, coughing as the billowing clouds of dust and rubble settled and the smoke cleared.

And there you were, crouched on one knee, your hands holding down the pair of curses the two of you were assigned to exorcise, a first mission for you. And there he was, standing awkwardly, wide-eyed, while the colossal tiger curse he summoned purred beside him, rolling on its back.

He cleared his throat, shaking thoughts away, dismissing the curse, and made his way towards you. The curses under your grasp groaned in unholy voices, and he watched, unable to tear his eyes away as your fingers closed even more tightly around their necks, your expression stone cold, unchanged.

“I could’ve helped,” he managed, quietly thankful that his voice didn’t crack at that moment.

You shrugged carelessly. “You didn’t need to.”

“Aren’t you going to exorcise them?” he tilted his head, failing to hide the intrigue in his voice.

“Yaga told me to let you exorcise them whenever possible.” He watched your face lift and your eyes met his. “He said you can control them.”

He paused for a moment, considering your words and nodded. He held out his right hand, palm open, enabling his technique and he watched your expression intently as one of the curses in your grasp warped into a dark, rumbling swirl in his palm, forming a crystal black orb.

Your eyes were focused on him, on the warbling sphere on his palm, and a twinge of self-consciousness hit him as he raised the orb to his lips, consuming it. Your eyes held no expression, he could not read what you were thinking, as much as he wished he could in that moment. But your eyes were so focused on him, so present, like you saw him so clearly and he almost wished you didn’t.

The other curse was churning into his palm and it had almost completely absorbed into an orb when you asked, “Can I hold it?”

He looked at you, wide-eyed, almost in disbelief as the question reached his ears.

Why? He wanted to ask. But didn’t. It can’t hurt you. And you can’t hurt him..right?

He took a step toward you, slow, cautious, the gently revolving curse in his palm out, a cursed offering to you.

“You should concentrate cursed en-” He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. You held your hands out, cupped next to each other, cursed energy coursing to your palms.

Carefully, gently, he tilted his hand over yours, passing the orb onto your hands and one might mistake this care for the object like it was something precious, but it isn’t. He'd never handed over an absorbed curse to anyone else (no one else had ever wanted it). He didn’t know what would happen.

He’d only noticed he’d been holding his breath, and let out a purposeful exhale when he saw the orb floating in your palms and in your hands, this wretched thing almost looked precious, like a gleaming black pearl between iridescent ivory shells.

He watched you looking down at it, a glittering reflection of the cursed orb in your eyes.

“And then you eat it?” your voice was much quieter than before.

“I consume it, yes.” he answered, the tenor of his voice matching yours.

His breath hitched as he watched you lift the orb to your lips, the tip of your tongue peeking from between your teeth, and you-

You tasted it.

He let out a ragged breath, hoping you couldn’t hear it.

Say something. He clenched his fists at his sides, desperately grasping for words in his mind. Do something. But he was frozen, the bottoms of his shoes cemented to the ground where he stood. He dug and dug, his efforts in vain, to find something behind your stoic expression.

It’s grotesque, isn’t it? This hideous thing I do. And now you’ve seen it. I shouldn’t have shown you. I shouldn’t have let you..

Finally you looked up, your eyes meeting his and you handed the curse back to him just as carefully as he passed it to you.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Ha..” the relief was audible in his voice at the way you said that. Your expression still hadn’t changed, but dare he say it, he definitely heard it, there was an almost playful edge to the way you said it.

-

“Hey, can we stop in that convenience store real quick?”

Geto turned to look at you, your small hand tugging at the sleeve of his uniform, the other pointing to a brightly lit building surrounded by vending machines past an empty parking lot.

He took out his phone to check the time.

“Yeah, are you hungry?” There was still time before the train back to Tokyo leaves.

“Yes,” you replied simply and bounded through the entrance to the little store. He took a seat on one of the benches outside by a vending machine, and a couple of minutes passed before he saw you poke your head out from the doors.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“I’m not hungry,” he smiled. He never had any appetite and wouldn't for a long time after consuming a curse.

“Ok, I’ll just be a minute.”

He sat, looking out at nothing, replaying that moment over and over in his mind. The image of you, holding the small, black orb to your lips, the tip of your tongue grazing its surface-

“Here.”

He blinked, time finally catching up to him. He watched you take a seat beside him, holding a lollipop out for him. For me? And you nodded, nudging it closer to him, like you could hear the question in his mind.

He took it from you, and watched you drop a full bag of food down onto your lap. You unwrapped and took a bite out of the onigiri that you held in the other hand.

You must’ve noticed the way he was staring, because you turned and answered the question he didn't ask, “My cursed technique churns through my physical energy stores, so I’m always hungry,” you explained flatly. “I got you some cup ramen and onigiri too. For the train, in case you get hungry later.”

He laughed softly, he couldn’t help himself - the way you muttered through a mouth full of food, a little smudge of nori on your cheek, so different from the way you were when you defeated those curses, so human, so honest, so young..

“And this is what, an appetizer?” he chuckled, unwrapping the lollipop after reading the label. Sour apple.

“No, that’s a palate cleanser,” you replied simply. But your words caused him to freeze mid-movement. He felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach at the implication.

He took a careful inhale, forcing himself to move after a moment, and brought the lollipop to his lips. “I know it’s unpleasant. I can go buy some chewing gum-” He stood, turning away, his eyes dark beneath the fallen strands of his hair.

“Shit-”

A gentle tug at his shirtsleeve.

“Geto, I’m sorry..”

He turned, a practiced smile on his face. “You don’t have to apologize. I normally go on missions alone, so there’s no one to converse with..no one to care..and I’m so used to it that I hardly notice it anymore.” This last was a lie; he couldn’t not notice it.

“No, I mean-”

He watched your expression twist into something he hadn’t seen before. An emotion was manifesting in your eyes. What is it?

He watched you inhale deeply, your chest rising. He hung on the edge of every millisecond that passed.

“It’s not that. It’s not what you’re thinking,” you began, your voice softer than usual. He watched you scoff lightly, shaking your head a little before meeting his gaze.

“This isn’t normal, what you and I do, what we are, you know that right?” You glanced over at a boy and girl across the street, hand in hand, in their high school uniforms, skipping along, laughing, so immersed in their own world it was palpable.

“You don’t seem like the kinda guy that ever complains,” you continued, your eyes meeting him again. “I might be out of line for saying this, but I want to make sure you know- what you do, this is not something you should ever have to get used to. This isn’t normal. I know you probably have some belief system, some cause you’ve dedicated yourself to. To help people who can’t help themselves, because you can, so you think you should, right? Because you have this ability. But I hope you know that it doesn’t have to be at the expense of your own happiness. It’s not selfish to look inward once in a while. If you’re suffering, if you’re in pain- you should know that it’s valid. And that lollipop, it’s just a reminder, an entry back into the real world after you’ve consumed a curse.”

You turned, moving back to take a seat on the bench, resuming bites out of the onigiri in your hand while he was stunned, frozen where he stood.

“I apologize for my candor,” you muttered, your cheek puffed with food. “It’s an unattractive quality. But I hate it when people get so caught up in themselves that they lose sight of what makes them great.”

It doesn’t have to be at the expense of your own happiness…

It’s not selfish to look inward once in a while…

If you’re in pain, you should know that it’s valid…

This is a reminder…

…

What is this feeling?

A slow simmer in his gut, it was warm, fluttering gentle caresses up his spine, it rose up and brought warm heat to his cheeks, a flush of pink under his skin.

He looked at you from where he stood, and from your feet, he watched the rest of the world suddenly emerge in vibrant color- the way the summer air smelled, the soft chirping of crickets from the trees in the distance, the low rumbling of a faraway storm..

Everything that had faded into the background, that he’d pushed to the far back of his consciousness because for as long as he can recall, he was actually the one being consumed by the curses in his possession. And he’d gotten so good at hiding what plagued him, that he was even starting to believe it himself, believing that everything was fine. But by the sweet, clear succession of your words, everything was brought to life, screaming and vivid.

In that moment, he stood on this Earth, just a boy, and you, just a girl; someone from that moment on, he knew he wanted to protect with his life.

[ariana-winchester95]

Solandis || A Good First Impression Works Wonders

Word Count: 1.8k

Chapter Warnings: Poor shelter conditions, Jimin is quiet but he's so cute, kitten Yeonjun is everything, Hye-Jin comes with her own warning

Adopting a cat can have its perks but adopting a shifter hybrid that doesn’t know how to cat is very challenging. Soo-Young is always up for a challenge but walking into the hybrid centre, she didn’t know what she was signing up for.

The centre felt cold, but the temperature was warm. There was a girl at the counter, choosing to file her nails rather than tidy the reception. Rubbish from kids was still under the chairs, that’s on the kids' parents too, it’s also a workers duty to make the main entrance, the main attraction, warm and inviting. Soo-young could even see the stock needed doing, but the girl behind the counter thought she was in no position to do such things. Announcing her arrival by clearing her throat, Soo-Young watched how the girl glanced up through her eye lashes.

“Good morning, how may I help you today?”

The tone in the girl’s voice seemed forced, robotic almost, to Soo-Young. Hye-Jin. The name read on the name tag as she stepped closer. Her long, brown hair pulled into a high pony, cascading over her left shoulder, her smile kind, overly kind, but something in her eyes gave Soo-Young a different vibe.

“I am looking to adopt a hybrid.”

Soo-Young spoke confidently as she walked up to the counter, her own blonde hair bouncing behind her with every step. Her shoes clicked on the vinyl flooring of the reception area.

“I’ll get you to fill this form out before seeing the hybrids.”

Hye-Jin loudly placed a clipboard on the counter, with the form attached to it before slamming a pen next to it. Soo-Young fought the urge to pull a face at the worker, who clearly shouldn’t be in a job like this. Taking a deep breath in, Soo-Young filled in the form.

“Okay, all done.”

Soo-Young capped the pen and gently placed it on the page before looking up at Hye-Jin with a graceful smile on her face, tilting her head slightly to the side. Taking the clipboard in hand, she flashed her eyes over the form.

“Follow me.”

“What hybrid are you looking for?”

Hye-Jin kept her focus straight ahead, steps wide and quick, Soo-Young almost had to run to keep up. From the quick glances and observations passing by, she took note of the hybrids in cages. Some called out to Soo-Young, some merely peered up at her and watched her walk passed with pleading eyes and the rest, didn’t move at all. A hybrid leaving here today would be a blessing in disguise, Soo-Young thought.

“A cat breed, if possible.”

Soo-Young followed as Hye-Jin then took a quick turn, seemingly towards where they keep the cat hybrids.

“Here’s a cat hybrid. Yeonjun.”

Soo-Young did wish that Hye-Jin would be more compassionate towards the wonderful ray of hybrids the shelter offers and wished that the shelter looked after them better. A soft smile appeared on her lips as she watched the small, white shifted kitten hybrid chase a ball, as much as he could in the confined space. Soo-Young giggled as the kitten tumbled over the ball, quickly shaking himself off before looking up at her, meowing loudly.

“He’s adorable.” Soo-Young cooed as the hybrid shifted.

“Handle full, this one.”

Paying no mind to Hye-Jin, a tall, blonde figure now stood where the kitten had been. Soo-Young knew that kitten’s need more attention than an adult but it's not a valid reason to neglect such an innocent soul.

“Hi, I’m Yeonjun, what’s your name?” The boy beamed, taking quick steps towards her, gripping the wire of the cage.

“Soo-Young.”

“Come closer, please. I want to ask you something.”

Soo-Young leaned closer, facing away from Hye-Jin, who was taking no notice of the pair at all.

“Can you get me out of here? I don’t like it here.” Yeonjun whispered, keeping his eyes and ears on Hye-Jin, a few feet away.

Not shocked to hear this, she can’t imagine what it would be like being locked up like this. She already knew who would adopt this adorable boy.

“I have a friend who I think would love you. I can tell him to come tomorrow, if you would like, Yeonjun?”

Soo-Young questioned carefully, but needing not to worry, seeing how Yeonjun beamed with pure happiness.

“Would you really?”

Yeonjun would scream if he could, his blonde hair flopping around his face as he bounced on his feet.

“You have my word. I'll tell you a secret, he lives with two hybrids, who are the biggest kids at heart and would love to be your best friends.”

“That means I’ll get to see you again, because of your friend?”

Soo-Young couldn’t deny the look on his face, his eyes big and round, only just meeting her and already never wanting her out of his life. Soo-Young then felt something soft tickle her hand and soon realised it was his tail creeping through the wire to hold her wrist.

“Yes, it does.”

“Okay, moving on.”

Hye-Jin gave Soo-Young no time to protest, mouthing a see you soon to Yeonjun, she caught up to the worker. The next cage was a few feet away, of similar size to that of Yeonjun.

“This one is Jimin.”

Hye-Jin stated as she stopped next to the cage, not waiting for Soo-Young to catch up. Once she did, she peered inside and passed the chicken wire. The hybrid, Jimin, was sitting on a bed, brushing his long, fluffy tail. Making no sound or movement of acknowledgement that he knew they were there, but he knew, could smell them in the air, hear their footsteps. He looked so small, maybe it was how he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, curling in on himself as he tended to his tail. His silvery hair shielded his face from the two girls standing at the gate.

“What can you tell me about him?”

The hybrid never looked up from his position, preferring to keep brushing his tail. His left ear twitched on the top of his head at the new voice but chose to stay focused on grooming his tail.

“We suspect he has a rough past. He stays quiet about it and keeps to himself. He doesn’t cooperate with us, so we just leave him be.”

“What type of person are you looking for to adopt him?”

Soo-Young kept her eyes on the hybrid, taking note of how his ear twitched towards her without looking away from his tail. She could tell that he wasn’t listening to anyone else. It would look like he was in his only little bubble but Soo-Young easily saw the subtle hints that he was at least a little interested in her conversation with the shelter worker.

“We would say he’d need someone who would be home most days, who would be patient with him especially the first few weeks. Someone who he could rely on to help him move forward, bring him out of his shell. Are you interested in adopting him?”

Soo-Young watched how the hybrid picked his head up even the slightest, drawing his eyes up to the wall in front of him, his hands stationary on his tail and ears alert. Jimin felt like his stomach was in his mouth, his nerves skyrocketing as he prepared himself for her answer as he held his breath. From her few words, he liked the soft sound of her voice and her floral scent.

“Yes. May I meet him?”

Yes. One word, one small word was enough to draw a smile from the cat before he even realised it had appeared.

Hye-Jin opened the gate roughly, startling the hybrid, almost purposely in Soo-Young’s eyes. The hairs on Jimin’s tail fluffed up, making it look like a feather duster as he moved to the furthest corner, hugging his knees to his chest. Soo-Young barely suppressed a giggle, stepping through the wire. She had to get him out of here, Soo-Young thought.

“Hi Jimin-ssi, I’m Soo-Young”

The hybrid never moved his wide but curious eyes away from her, watching her every move, preparing for the worst for getting scared. Slowly, she stopped a few feet away from him and crouched down, so he was above her, showing his animal counterpart that she meant no harm.

“It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you.”

She held out a hand towards him, offering him a gentle smile as she waited for him to make a move. Tentatively, Jimin lowered his knees, leaning forward he braced himself on the edge of the small bed, his tail slowly behind him in hesitation. He brought his nose an inch away from her open palm, softly breathing in her floral scent. Soo-Young observed how the cat hybrid's eyes closed softly, how his arms subtly started to shake and how a small and barely noticeable purr rumbled within his chest unwillingly. Soo-Young barely had time to process anything before she blinked at the hybrid now pressed back in the corner, eyes blown wide, fear written clearly over his whole being. His ears flattened against his head as he gripped his tail tightly against his chest.

“Hey, it’s alright Jimin, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

He thought it strange how nothing came. No belt. No cane. Nothing. He thought it strange how the girl sitting on the floor did nothing but offer words so kind. Too kind. Realising that nothing was going to happen, Jimin calmed down enough to shuffle a little closer towards her, remaining on the bed.

“You have a beautiful tail, Jimin-ssi”

The hybrid averted his gaze down to his lap as he felt his cheeks heating up, his shoulders raising to his ears.

“What type of cat are you, Jimin-ssi?”

“Ragamuffin.”

Hye-Jin scoffed behind Soo-Young. A tell-tale sign that she didn’t know what breed he was. Jimin had spoken with the softest of tones, Soo-Young would not have heard him if she hadn’t been listening so intently as he played with his tail. A sign of nerves, Soo-Young noted.

“He’s perfect.”

Soo-Young spoke the two words to the worker while watching the small hand run over the fur of his tail, a soft smile on her lips, a deep blush on his cheeks at her indirect praise.

“Really?” There was a hint of condescendence laced in Hye-Jin’s voice as she spoke, “Are you sure? He’ll be a bit hard to handle and uncooperative.”

Soo-young can hear the owner's words, that she had made no effort to connect with the hybrid. He had been cooperative with Soo-Young thus far, she knew Jimin would be the right match for her.

“I’m sure. I work from home, and if I need to go anywhere, he can come with me, if he chooses. There’ll be no separation anxiety in my home.”

“Jimin?”

The cat raised his head, his ears alert and giving her full attention. His eyes wide and hopeful, biting his plush bottom lip in anticipation of her next words.

“Would you like to be adopted?”

[juniorgman187]

Things We Know By Heart (Spencer Reid Fluff)

Summary: Reader teaches Spencer how to slow dance in preparation for his wedding. The only problem? Reader’s in love with Spencer, and she isn’t the bride. 

A/N: S/O to Kyla who bullied me throughout all of elementary school. Ik you’ve probably changed since then, but you literally traumatized and tormented me for more than six years of my life. So I felt like including you in this story as, “Kayla,” Spencer’s fiancé. Tehe, I’m petty like that.  Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff Word Count: 6.5k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

I think we’d all like to believe that somewhere out there is our person. And somehow, someway, they’ll get to where they need to go, right where they belong. 

With us. 

That’s what I’d like to believe. 

I’d like to think that no matter what happens along our journeys to each other, we’ll arrive at the same destination regardless. 

But that isn’t necessarily true, is it? 

Because maybe, my soulmate got lost along the way. They met somebody great, someone they think is their person, and they married that person. They had kids and eventually, grandkids with that person, even though, deep down - they knew it wasn’t right. They stayed with them anyway because their fear of being alone superseded their fear of being with the wrong person for life. 

And what am I to do when that happens? When my person finds a different person. 

Am I supposed to believe that the universe will be so kind as to give my soulmate the courage to leave their relationship behind and forge a new one with me? 

Am I supposed to expect that the world will supply me with another person, the person I’m supposed to marry? 

Or do I simply wait for my person to come to the conclusion that they’re meant to be with me after all and my naive entitlement to a soulmate is validated?

Is life really that magical? 

This is the story of what happens when your person loves a different person.

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

With his hand at the nape of my neck to support my head and his other hand flat against the small of my back, he dipped me backward, leaning with me as I arched my back and bent the leg closest to the crowd, pointing my foot to elongate my leg artistically. This was our ending position so I remained in it until the song ended. The two of us bowed to thank the audience and to conclude our performance. Roses fell at our feet while the sound of applause echoed in the room. I was never a fan of being the center of attention, but there was something about this overwhelming praise that was particularly blissful. It was intoxicating. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance like that.” I gushed to my partner; my cheeks growing pink from the heat and the head rush I got. 

He positioned his mouth right beside my ear so I could hear his words clearly over the rowdy cheering. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Princess.” said Morgan.

A gauntlet formed to clap for us both when we walked off the dance floor. Hand-in-hand, Morgan led me back to the table through the double file line of people. The team howled with excitement when they saw me and Morgan approaching.

“So this is what you two were keeping a secret from us? That you’re dance partners?” JJ had to ask. 

“Yep. All those late nights and secret rendezvous.” Morgan said, shimmying his shoulders be suggestive of a sexual innuendo, which I was not a fan of. Out of mock offense, I chucked a small towel at him with a grouchy command to “Shut up!” 

He took the towel to the face like a champ, laughing it off and dabbing his sweat away. 

“I don’t know who was sexier up there - Princess or my Hubba Hubba!” Garcia squealed pretending to claw at Derek, reeling him over towards her. 

“You looked like a natural up there, Y/N. Were you a dancer before?” Prentiss questioned while handing me a glass of water that I desperately gulped down. 

“My mom sent me to dance classes as soon as I could walk.” I jokingly explained after gathering my hair into a makeshift ponytail and lifting it off of my neck, cocking my head to the side and fanning the back of my neck to cool down. 

“Maybe you should teach Reid how to dance before the wedding. He’s got two left feet and I don’t think he wants Morgan to teach him how to waltz.” JJ quipped, making Derek throw his head back in laughter. The thought of Morgan and Reid slow dancing would truly be something - something hilarious. I laughed, too, until Reid’s voice interrupted me.

“Yeah, that’s actually a really good idea. Would you mind, Y/N? Kayla would be so happy.” 

I thought he was joking, but his humorless expression told me otherwise. 

“You want me to teach you how to dance?” 

He pursed his lips and nodded, not understanding why I was so confused. 

“Um . . . yeah. I can do that. Sure.” My tone wasn’t very convincing, but Reid’s optimism made him oblivious to my reluctance. He smiled and hugged me with one arm around my shoulder. 

“I have to call Kay and tell her the good news.” Reid dashed away from the table, pulling out his phone to dial his fiancé. 

I darted toward JJ with fury and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the bathroom for privacy. 

“What the hell was that? ‘Oh, Y/N, you should teach him how to dance.’ You know how I feel about Reid!” 

Rather than giving me hostility back, she broke into a smile. “Exactly! If you spend more time alone with him, maybe he’ll finally admit to himself that he shouldn’t be marrying Kayla,”

I rolled my eyes and turned my back away from her. 

“We all know Spence would be happier with you.” 

As JJ spoke, I trudged to the nearest sink, holding onto the sides for stability as the ground below me swayed. She followed me, rubbing up and down my back comfortingly. 

“You know how he is. He keeps things to himself, until eventually they’re forced to come out. If you dance with him, maybe he’ll finally tell you he loves you without actually having to say it. Do this for him . . . and for you.” JJ gave me one last pat on the back before exiting the bathroom to leave me to my devices.

Normally, teaching a friend how to slow dance in preparation for his wedding would be sweet. It’d be a selfless gesture and an act of service for him that would show how much love there was in our friendship. In this case though, it was anything but. 

For the six months that Spencer and Kayla had been engaged, the team was relentless in trying to end it. I tried to stay out of it in case all hell broke loose, but I couldn’t escape it. No - I was at the very center of it. 

Before Reid even knew Kayla existed, he was head-over-heels in love with me. He’d ask me on coffee dates, wait by my desk for me, and he would always try to sit beside me at the round table or on the jet. It was sweet, really, but it could never go anywhere. 

I was in a committed relationship with my high school sweetheart Patrick. (Maybe Spencer had a thing for unavailable girls).

I moved in with Patrick after graduating from college, and after years of working in the BAU (and years of Spencer loving me) Pat proposed. At first, being engaged brought me so much joy, but halfway into our engagement, something changed.

I was in Wisconsin, consoling a grieving widow. She was hysterical after I delivered the treacherous news of her husband’s gruesome murder. She eventually calmed down and proceeded to ask me about my engagement when she noticed my ring. I gave her the bare minimum, fabricated a couple things here and there, but then she asked me the million dollar question. 

“Are you in love?” Her eyes glimmered with hope. 

My immediate answer was a habitual “Yes, of course.” But after seeing how deeply this widow loved her late husband, I couldn’t say in good conscience that that answer was actually true. 

That night I went to the hotel and lied on the bed, praying for clarity. 

Perhaps I wasn’t actually in love with Patrick. Maybe we’d been together for so long that it just felt safe and comfortable and familiar. Maybe it was the fear of disrupting the arrangement of my life that stopped me from ending things sooner. 

The fact of the matter was that I’d only ever known a life loving him, but that didn’t mean I was in love with him. Maybe I was settling for something with Pat, because I wasn’t sure if I could have a better relationship with anyone else. With all these doubts, I needed a sign. 

A knock on the door interrupted my inner dialogue. 

When I opened it, who else was standing there, but none other than Rossi.

“We need to talk.” He ordered. 

He followed me back into the room and sat at the foot of the bed. He said he noticed something was off about me, and I admitted that there was. So that night, I took advice I probably shouldn’t have from the man with multiple failed marriages, but it was a sign - and it was good enough.

When we returned to Quantico, I asked Hotch for some personal time, which he was happy to permit. That same night I went home and broke off the engagement with Patrick. 

I felt despicably cold when I watched him tear up and ask me, “Why are you doing this?” 

There was truly no concrete moment in our relationship that incited my decision, but it was merely the realization that being with him wasn’t right, because how could I stand there watching him beg for a change of heart but still feel nothing? 

Maybe I was much less than not in love. Maybe I didn’t feel a thing for him at all. Not hate. Not empathy. Not love. Just . . . nothing. 

Completely indifferent. 

Within the week of personal time I took, I spent most of it moving into Rossi’s guest house. After I came back from work, it took all of two hours before someone brought up the absence of the ring that I used to never take off, and I’d assumed they’d already noticed it the moment I walked in - they were just too afraid to ask.

“I ended things with Patrick.” I casually stated, not even looking up from my portfolio to give it the attention it probably deserved. 

While the rest of the team’s jaws dropped on the floor, Rossi was fighting a smirk considering this wasn’t news to him and having seen everyone else’s reactions was a priceless moment for him. 

There was a brief moment of awkward silence on the jet as the team processed my information, until finally Hotch cleared his throat and started debriefing again. In the seat next to me, Spencer was very poorly hiding his enthusiasm. Hearing I broke off the engagement was like a green light to make his move. And honestly, it was. 

So I waited. 

And I waited. 

And I waited. 

Then I waited some more for him to jump at the opportunity. 

But he didn’t. 

He never did. 

Instead, he introduced Kayla into our lives, and eventually, they’d get engaged, too. 

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t developed feelings for Spencer while I expected him to act upon his palpable affection for me. And because of my newfangled feelings, I could never tell another soul that I sincerely believed Spencer got engaged just to spite me - to show me just how painful unrequited love was. 

The strangest part of it all, though, was that there was never a moment following the ending of my engagement and the birth of his own that showed me that his feelings went away. He never treated me differently or stopped talking to me. Even in the early stages of his relationship with Kayla, he continued to act like I was the only girl in his life. He was so consistent with his actions that it confused me.

Did he love me or not? And was I in love with him or not?

Evidently, the team seemed to have my answer. 

“He loves you and you love him. It’s as simple as that.” Prentiss explained curtly. 

Agreeing nods came from JJ, Morgan, and Garcia, who’d abducted me as soon as I exited the elevator that morning and snuck me into Garcia’s Bat Cave for an intervention. 

“We need to stop this wedding.” Garcia demanded. 

And since that glorious intervention, the team (minus Rossi and Hotch because Rossi seemed genuinely happy for Reid, and Hotch would definitely tell us it wasn’t our place) began trying to put a wedge in the relationship. I, however, made the smart choice not to be involved. 

If I was trying to get him to love me, why would I do something that would surely make him hate me like breaking up his engagement? Plus, the blind optimist in me believed that if I was actually meant to be with Spencer, it would happen regardless of Kayla. 

So anytime Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia suggested something, I refused to participate. I was able to steer clear of any wedding crasher shenanigans up until JJ’s “slow-dance” suggestion. 

If Reid knew the true intentions behind these dance classes, he surely wouldn’t be pleased, but clearly - he didn’t. Because when I walked out of the restroom and back to the table, Reid still had a huge grin that took up half of his face, making his eyes look nearly shut. 

“Thank you again for doing this.” Reid beamed. 

“Of course! What are friends for?” 

Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia exchanged satirical glances at my choice of words. 

What are friends for if not to purposefully set two people up in hopes of ending one person’s betrothal?

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

Later that weekend . . 

“Come in!” I called out, buckling the ankle strap of my heels. 

The door opened partially and then all at once to reveal the one and only. I peeked my head out from behind a wall that was obstructing my view of him, immediately noticing a bouquet of lavender wrapped in twine. 

“Oh my goodness, what is this?” I asked in pure delight as he handed me the pretty purple flowers. 

“It’s a thank-you gift for agreeing to help me.” His lips formed a thin straight line, which was his version of a smile. A smile I appreciated whenever I was lucky enough to have caused it. 

“They’re lovely, thank you.” I told him, hugging him briefly before fetching a vase from the kitchen to put them in.

“Oh, good, I’ll tell Kayla you liked them. She’s the one who picked them out.”

The glass vase nearly shattered the moment he said that, but luckily, my reflex skills spared the vessel.

How big of a fool was I for thinking that he gave me flowers out of the kindness of his heart because he knew lavender was my favorite? But then again I probably needed that brutal reminder of why he was here in the first place - for Kayla.

As I put the vase on the kitchen island, I spun around, brandishing a fake smile. 

“So we should probably get started. I don’t wanna keep you here for too long.” 

“There’s no rush. Kayla won’t be home until late at night.” 

I tried not to think of the potential innuendo that lied within his statement, but Spencer wasn’t type to be disloyal, and I wasn’t going to be the woman to make him such a person.

“You look really nice, by the way.” I heard him say from behind me, catching a whiff of his cologne that was intoxicatingly sweet.

I did my best to not take the comment personally and let it get to my head, but I’d be lying if it didn’t elicit any response. I smiled to myself, which thankfully, he couldn’t see since my back was towards him as he followed me into my backyard. 

“You smell different.” He added. 

“Good different?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Is it a new perfume?”

I furrowed my brows. “No, it’s the same one I’ve been using for years.”

“Interesting,” I could feel him taking in this information, and I could hear the gears in his head turning at an even faster rate to spit out more information. “Did you know that you pick your soulmate by subconsciously reacting to pheromones that transmit their genetic compatibility? Yeah, there’s a relationship between attraction and scent, which dates back to our primal instinct. So if someone smells appealing to you, even if you don’t know it, it could relate to your attraction to them and vice versa.” 

“Ah, then maybe I should consider changing my perfume to improve my love life.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I love the way you smell.”

In the back of my mind lied the unanswered question I neglected to voice, “But do you love me?”

When we reached the backyard, I heard him gasp in awe. 

“It looks beautiful, Y/N. You did great.”  

Nestled in my backyard was a dark wooden deck, surrounded by plentiful greenery. Lining the perimeter of the shiny wooden deck were asymmetrical rocks, while above us hung strands of fairy lights that cast a sheer golden glow on the entire scene. The ambiance was not for Spencer specifically, but I was happy that he appreciated it nonetheless. 

“You ready?” 

He signaled yes by putting his thumb up and so it began.

“Alright, so slow dancing can be broken into four easy steps, but first, you gotta know how to hold your partner correctly.” 

Spencer and I took a step towards each other, and I could feel the nervous energy radiating off of him. I tried not to call attention to it, so I simply continued with my process. Outstretching my arms to form a T with my body, I guided him verbally. 

“So I’m the follower. And you’re the leader. Got it?” 

He nodded. 

“Leader puts their right hand under the follower's left armpit and cups their hand around the follower's shoulder blade.” 

He understood my instructions, and in the most awkward manner possible, he fumbled his way into the right position, albeit, not perfect. 

“Now, hold my right hand as high as my eye level without raising my shoulder.” 

Spencer was glaringly anxious, so I gave him a word of encouragement. “Hey, don’t be nervous. It’s just me, okay? And you’re doing great.”

I could see the nerves beginning to settle, translating into the conviction with which he took my hand, raising it at the perfect height. 

“Great. Just like that.” 

My praise brought out that smile in him that only ever came out on rare occasions. The kind where it’s brief, his teeth showing, a light chuckle escapes him, and he’s looking down as if he’s too shy to look at me. 

“Okay, step two is basic footwork. Leader starts with their left foot and takes a step to the left. And then your right foot is going to meet your left foot and tap. The count is one-two.” 

I watched as Spencer tried to process what I was saying. 

“Do you want me to demonstrate first? And then you follow?” 

He nodded rapidly as if saying yes wouldn’t be enough to communicate how much he needed me to lead. We broke apart so that I could turn my back towards him. I felt a cold draft blow under my dress as I spun on the ball of my feet, making my skirt flutter upwards majestically. 

I felt him watching. 

“Alright, so I’ll start and then you can catch on. It goes one-two.” 

Left foot step. Right foot tap. 

“Then three-four.” 

Left foot step. Right foot tap. 

“Then to the right this time. Five-six.” 

Right foot step. Left foot tap. 

“Seven-eight.” 

Right foot step. Left foot tap.

“And back again. One-two. Three-four. Five-six. Seven-eight.” 

My eight count continued until the click of my heels on the patio was joining by the sound of Spencer’s feet shuffling behind me. I knew if I turned around to check on him, it would only psych him out and make him more nervous, so I stayed facing forward so he wouldn’t feel that I was scrutinizing his technique. 

After a minute or so of following me, I spun back around, catching his lingering stare in the region of my hips. He tried to play it off and pretend he wasn’t, but I felt it. 

“You did really well tonight. I’m proud of you. I think that’s a good place to stop for today.” 

He thanked me with another hug, the kind where we nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck. 

God, I could feel him breathing on my shoulder. 

I tried not to not to let myself indulge in it, reasoning that this was just a way for one friend to thank another, but I couldn’t help myself when the hug lasted longer than it should’ve. I tightened my embrace around him, drawing him in closer, and shutting my eyes as if taking my sense of sight away would heighten my sense of touch and magnify this feeling I never wanted to end.

“You take care, okay?” I said, rubbing my hand up and down his back to signal we should pull away, a signal he understood.

I was the first to walk away, merely because of the worry that I might sooner cry if I had to stay under these lights with him a moment longer. 

I wasn’t sure I could do this again unless he was mine. Otherwise, I’d just be under the stars, dancing with the love of my life that I couldn’t have - feeling that feeling again, and not being able to act on it. 

Is this what happens when your person loves somebody else?

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

I know I said I couldn’t do it, but I did it anyway. 

I guess that’s what love is. Doing things you don’t want to do because your care for the other person surpasses the discomfort. True love makes you do things like that, even if they aren’t in your best interest.

When he came over the next night, we danced again. Undoubtedly, he stumbled - even came close to falling - and yet, I fell in love all over again. After that, it got harder to separate dancing from my feelings. 

The next day, we had a case. He came to my hotel room and we danced in the dim golden light of the hotel room’s chandelier. God, it was so ambient and romantic, I think I fell even harder for him - if that was even possible. 

From then on, every time we were in the same place, he leapt at the opportunity to dance with me. 

“Guys, look what I learned last night! Come, Y/N! Come on, come on.” 

He waved me over eagerly with his hand, even helping me out of my seat in the round table just to speed up the process. All too excitedly, he assumed the leader’s position, and he danced me around the entire conference room in front of our coworkers. He spun me around the table, he dipped me in the doorway, he held me in his arms by the glass board. 

Can you really blame me for falling in love? 

“Wow, Y/N! I’m impressed. You really whipped him into shape.” JJ remarked with a clap. 

I hid behind a faux smile, but Spencer was too elated to recognize the deceit. He was like that now. Maybe love made him more of a fool, more naive and blissfully unaware, whereas love made me more devoted and cognizant. 

It went on like that for weeks. Practicing whenever and wherever we could. 

He’d pull me into the hotel lobby at midnight to dance - not even batting an eye at the looming presence of the receptionist. 

He’d ask me to come to his apartment and we’d dance in his living room or in the narrow hallway, just for fun. 

When we were at Rossi’s, he’d drag me to the kitchen, with Rossi’s gentle music playing in the background, and we’d sway by the fireplace sometimes. 

We danced once in the elevator when it got stuck. I never thought he’d be so fearless to do that, but he looked like he was genuinely enjoying himself, almost like he didn’t even notice we were stuck in an elevator. 

While we waited for the jet, we’d danced on the tarmac, looking like a moving bundle of clothes, our movements stifled by our thick peacoats, layers of clothes, and scarfs. 

After a dinner during cases, when we’d split a cab back to the hotel, he’d get me to dance on the sidewalk, even convincing me not to pay attention to the onlookers on the street, the honking cars, or the confused pedestrians. I was always embarrassed to be in the spotlight, but somehow with him, it was easy. It felt like it was just the two of us, dancing under that streetlight. 

I never understood why people wanted to live in a moment forever, but for the first time that night, I did. That was a moment I wanted to freeze in time. I wish I could’ve stayed there forever. There in that moment, it really felt like it was our own little world. It was easy to believe we’d end up together, and we were the ones getting married, and we were in love. 

But again, that was in that moment. In that singular, fleeting moment. And then life moved on, whether or not I was ready for it to. 

The day of rehearsals inevitably came, and I wasn’t originally supposed to be at the wedding rehearsal since I wasn’t part of the ceremony, but Spencer asked me to be there, deliberately neglecting to tell me that the reason he wanted me to come was so that I could fill in for Kayla, which had I known that, I would’ve certainly declined. 

When I walked in, the team was all there, sitting in the pews, with their heads turning to me where I was standing at the entrance of the church. It felt like an eerie nightmare that I was living out where I was Spencer’s bride walking down the aisle, and this was our wedding. I couldn’t tell you what was so nightmarish about it - probably because none of it felt right - but I was sick to my stomach when Spencer gestured for me to meet him at the altar. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Kayla had a last minute dress alteration in Norfolk and got stuck in traffic. She won’t make it for this rehearsal, but she’ll be there in time for the dinner rehearsal.” 

“So why am I here?” 

“I wanted to practice my vows on you, if that’s okay.” 

I gulped hard, trying to swallow the lump in my throat to open up my suddenly-closing airway. 

“Um, I don’t really know if -”

“Please, Y/N. I’m just nervous that I might mess up-”

How could I say no? True love makes you do crazy things, even if they aren’t in your best interest, right?

I reluctantly agreed. 

Spencer’s hands were trembling and I could see it by the way his notecards were shaking, even from the fact that he brought notecards alone, and that he didn’t already memorize his vows. I wanted to put my hands around his and hold them to settle his unsteadiness, but I knew that wasn’t my place. I figured my words would do a better job at not crossing a boundary that was already crossed.

“Hey,” I comfortingly whispered. “It’s just me, okay?” Calling back those words from the first time we danced months ago. “You don’t need those notecards. Just speak from the heart.”

And sure enough, his heart spoke. 

“When people used to tell me stories about what love felt like and what is what, they always said they fell in love with that person. Like it was sudden and all at once, but with you - I walked into love with you. With my eyes wide open, choosing to take each and every step along the way. I never believed in fate or destiny, but after I met you, I finally believed. I believed that we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway. And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality. I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

My breath hitched as I got lost in his eyes and how they were looking right at me, completely unmindful of the way everyone around us saw how he spoke to me. 

I think he even got lost too, because what he said next, didn’t even seem to register in his mind before it came out of his mouth. 

“I love you . . . Y/N.” 

Gasps rang through the church, ricocheting off the high ceiling, and in that moment I knew, I knew he was going to kiss me. 

He lunged forward in the heat of the moment. Clearly not thinking straight, he held my face in his hands, and I swear to God, I could’ve kissed him back. 

I would’ve. 

“Spencer?” 

Every single head in the church turned toward the small voice, too distinct to misplace. 

“Kayla, wait!’ 

And there I stood, alone at the front of the altar, watching him run after her. 

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

I sat by my phone the entire afternoon, waiting for someone - anyone - to update me. No one ever ended up texting or calling, so I figured the dinner rehearsal wasn’t cancelled. At least, in that case, my dress didn’t go to waste. 

After spending an ungodly amount of time curling my hair and putting on my makeup, even achieving a smoky eye look, I finally slipped on my navy-blue, satin, floor length dress, donning nude heels and a dainty gold necklace with a single diamond pendant that laid right on my sternum. 

It was a shame that this was a moment where I should’ve felt at my prettiest, and yet, I’d never felt so ugly. 

I was riddled with the guilt of knowing I would’ve kissed Spencer if Kayla hadn’t walked in. I felt even worse that I was so consumed by his speech that I didn’t even hear her come in. 

How long had she been standing there? Long enough to watch what I knew everyone else saw? These questions never left me. Not even when I pulled into the site of the dinner rehearsal. 

Clutching the front of my dress to walk without resistance, I came to the entrance, and opened the door to reveal . . . nothing.

Staff was removing chairs and tables. 

Waiters were collecting plates and utensils. 

And Spencer was standing in the very middle of the empty room, watching it all happen silently, like he was just the shell of a man. 

“Spencer!” I called out from the entrance, in no hurry to meet him at the middle of the room. He turned on his heels, with his hands sheepishly shoved into his pockets. 

“Gosh, I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve called to let you know it got cancelled, but um, Kayla broke my phone.”

“Well, it’s time you got a new phone anyway.” I chuckled, which thankfully earned a chuckle from him, too. 

“What happened, Spencer?” My voice was quiet, as if it was any decibel higher it would sound more like a scold than genuine concern. 

“She, um, she told me she needed some time to think. And I, I told her to come to the rehearsal dinner if she still wanted to get married and,” He mirthlessly chuckled. “Well, you already know.” His words were chosen carefully to deliberately avoid what he hadn’t yet come to terms with. 

She didn’t come. 

I wasn’t yet sure whether or not to console him or to berate him for what he almost did, but I chose the former. 

“I’m so sorry, Spence.” 

He looked up from the ground, still managing to avoid my gaze, by looking up at the ceiling, and pretty much everywhere my face wasn’t. 

“I understand if you want to leave right now. I just need to pay the owner and I’ll be out of here.” 

I shook my head instantly. “No, I’ll be right here. If you want me to be.” 

He bit his lip to stop a sob from escaping. “Yeah,” He nodded, cowering his head. “I’d like that a lot.” 

As soon as I saw his cheeks get red, I took it as a cue to approach him and hug him. He was grateful for my compassionate touch, immediately opening up his arms to hug me back. His embrace around me was needy and desperate, and it felt like he was clawing at my dress, acting out of anger that the fabric was stopping us from being that much closer. 

With his shoulder digging into the spot right underneath my chin, it was hard to utter the words, “You look really handsome, by the way.” I said, finally acknowledging his light beige suit and white button up shirt. 

“Thanks.” I heard him mumble into my shoulder. 

“Kayla doesn’t know what she’s missing.” 

To my surprise, he didn’t recoil, flinch, or so much as react to her name. Instead, he simply pulled away, wiping the moisture under his nose, and straightening out his suit. 

“We should . . . we should probably talk about what happened earlier, right?” 

I sighed and shook my head. “Not if you don’t want to. We can save that conversation for another day.”

He looked appreciative of my avoidance, but I knew he wanted to talk about it. 

“Hey, excuse me,” He stopped a staff member by clutching their arm gently. “Do you mind, actually? Leaving two seats behind.” 

The staff member complied, doing as he said, and leaving two chairs behind, setting one right across from the other. I took my seat, and Spencer took his.

“I probably shouldn’t have spoken from the heart, huh?” He joked, finally seeing the humor in his situation. 

“No, it was good that you did.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely. I think Kayla would’ve appreciated it.” All too quickly he responded with, “I wasn’t talking about Kayla.” 

I was talking about you, his somber eyes said. 

I looked away from his gaze immediately, trying to find a reprieve from the conversation that I was doing my best to avoid. 

“It was a really good speech. It sounded so natural. Like something you knew by heart.”

“Something I knew by heart?” He didn’t seem to understand what I meant. 

“Yeah, some things we just know by heart. Like the lyrics to our favorite song, or a recipe, how to dance,” We both chuckled at the reference. “Or . . . how to love.” 

“Do you think we know who to love by heart or do you think we make that choice ourselves?”

“I think it’s both. I think we can’t control the person we’re meant to love. That, by some miracle, we’re handed this person that complements us better than anyone else. But I also think it’s our choice on whether or not we pick them. Maybe we aren’t willing to stand the test of time and wait for our person, so we don’t pick them and settle for someone else. Or maybe we do pick them and we live out the rest of our lives together. I think that’s what makes love so special. It’s a person choosing you over and over again.” 

Isn’t that what we all want? To feel chosen?

“And what if we make the wrong decision? What if we’ve met who we’re supposed to love, but we chose to love another?” His eyes were searching within mine for the words that I wasn’t saying out loud. Out of fear that my eyes might expose me to Spencer, I looked away. 

“I think -”

Spencer cut me off. “Look at me.” 

My head didn’t move, but I shifted my gaze just as he wanted.

“When two people are meant to be, nothing and no one can end them. They may get lost a time or two on their journey, but true, real love will always conquer. Nothing can compete with them. Others can only attempt to fill a void. And eventually, the two will be reunited. That’s the beauty of true love; you always end up with the right person, at the right time, regardless of any other factor.” 

Quiet fell upon us two after I said my piece. My breathing slowed down and the knot in my stomach came undone. The lump in my throat disappeared. 

All my bodily barriers broke down. There were no more emotional walls up between the two of us anymore. I was completely vulnerable - nothing to hide me. Not even my eyelids could hide the windows of my soul. Spencer had already seen into them. 

He saw my soul, my secrets. 

“Dance with me.” He extended his hand in the air between us two. With no hesitation, I accepted his offer and followed his lead. He’d never danced so naturally before. Somehow, his stiffness had withered away. The thick tension that used to loom in the air above us two dissipated. Something new replaced the contents of the atmosphere. 

Love. 

Unbounded. 

Unrestrained. 

Unbridled. 

Limitless love. 

Spencer drew me in closer so my head could lay on his chest. Previously, I was looking at his face, but now the view was of our connected hands. My fingers were intertwined with his, and I didn’t even notice how his thumb was rubbing small circles on the back of my hand until I saw it with my own eyes. 

Had he always done that, but I couldn’t feel it until I saw it for myself? If so, what else had he been doing that I couldn’t feel?

“Loving you.” 

I removed my head from his shoulder after hearing him answer the question that I pondered silently, wondering if suddenly just acquired the superpower of telepathy.

“What?”

“Loving you. That’s all I know how to do by heart.” 

A wave of relief came over me when I realized he hadn’t read my mind, he was just simply adding to our conversation from before. 

“That’s not true,” I mirthlessly chuckled. “There’s lots you know how to do. You know thousands of chess permutations, you know how to geographically profile - you know how to dance now.” I countered playfully.

He shook his head. “I know how to do those things, but sometimes, none of it makes sense. I used to lose matches against Gideon, sometimes the comfort zone is inaccurate, and until today, I couldn’t dance very well,” He chortled. “But loving you. That always made sense. It never failed me or disappointed me and it’s so all-consuming that if I try to love anyone else - it just doesn’t make sense.”

Of all the words in my vocabulary, each of them were failing me. I was rendered speechless. Spencer cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, before finding the nerve to say it. 

“I choose you.” He proclaimed. 

So, I was right. 

There are some things we know by heart. 

Lyrics to our favorite song.

A recipe. 

How to dance . . . how to love.

And who to choose. 

“I choose you, too, Spencer.” 

. . . So to answer my question from before, is life really that magical? . . . 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

[satansphatass]

Hello! i stumbled across your techno story and i LOVED IT!! very fantastic!! i was wondering maybe if you could perhaps do a story where y/n likes to braid technos hair and put flowers in it and maybe over time he like starts to actually wear it bc y/n likes and hes a simp? 👉👈😔 if not thats Very cool too no worries! i love your writing, keep up the fantastic work! -ik it says my blog, couldnt find the anon button lol whoops im too tired anyways its me, bee, and i hope i can become a regular around here!

WOOO I’m so hyped I’ve never had so much human validation 🤠

This is an adorable idea and I can’t wait for more ideas from you bee :)

Sorry this took so long I had writers block and half of it didn’t save 🥲

Flowers - Technoblade

Trigger Warnings: none

Fluff/platonic

Summary: Y/n braids Techno’s hair and makes him a pretty boi.

***

Y/n breathed in, feeling their lungs fill with the beautiful fresh air. They flopped backwards into a patch of daisies with a poof of petals. They drifted down onto their cheeks, causing them to giggle.

It really was gorgeous out, the field was filled with various coloured flowers and the heat was beating down on their face - a nice change from the cold grey winters.

Moments like these really made them appreciate the simple things in life.

They opened their eyes at the sound of footsteps approaching to see a very tall man blacking out the sun, just like in those dramatic movies.

“What ‘cha up to?” he asked

“Just relaxing,”

Techno sunk down to the floor beside them, squishing a small cluster of yellow flowers under that fat bunda 🥶😈 I’m so sorry-

He placed his sword down in the meadow and made a blanket to lie down on out of his cloak. He looked so relaxed, an unusual occurrence since he was usually on edge due to his ever growing amount of stress.

His long salmon coloured hair was bathed in the golden evening light. They had always wanted to plait his hair, it was the perfect length. But they had never found the confidence to ask - just in case he chopped them in half or something cute🥰

“Something interesting?”

They realised that they had been staring for the past minute 😐👀. Add that to the list of things they would think about for the next fifty years. Luckily he was no longer paying any attention to them, sparing them from any further embarrassment.

“can-i-plait-your-hair?”

The words had come spilling out their mouth before they even had the chance to overthink it a billion times.

His eyebrows quirked up in surprise, that was definitely not what he was expecting. He was expecting some form of compliment on his godly physique, or them to throw themselves at his feet and pledge their life to him. That’s what most people did 😌

“Sure”

Now that surprised both of them.

They excitedly moved to sit behind him, his hair was surprisingly soft, they wondered if he had little self care nights with hair masks or something. Believe it or not, it was quite hard to imagine.

***

Y/n finished up by placing various little flowers into his hair. They would never say it aloud but he looked like a Disney princess. They wondered what would happen to them if they said that, maybe a quick axe to the throat. Or possibly some poison in their morning coffee.

“Done!” They said excitedly, “What do you think?!”

He melted at the sight of their eager face, although it didn’t show, he needed to keep up that badass facade that had taken years to procure. You know how it be. 😌✋

He pulled the plait across his shoulder and stared down blankly at the flowers. They mistook the lack of response for distaste, maybe the flowers were a step too far- this is where they died- oh god they hadn’t even finished writing up their will- welp, it was a good run. ☠️

“It’s, fine. I guess.”

That’s was the most praise that they had ever heard him give.

They sat down next to him and they both sat in silence watching the sunset. They slowly leant into techno, the success of the plait giving them a short boost of confidence. He pulled them in closer, awkwardly patting their head. They smiled, missing the faint blush rising to his cheeks.

***

He wore that same plait for days, refusing y/n’s offer to redo it, in fear of losing the little flowers that were now starting to wilt.

It was quite unusual to see the blood god kicking ass with such fabulous hair.

When the time came to take it out, before his hair started to look like a birds nest, he was distraught. This was soon resolved when they re-plaited it again.

The cycle continued.

***

“Y/n?”

“Yes?”

...

“Can you plait my hair?”

“Again?”

It soon became a regular treat, the small act of intimacy filling him with a warm feeling.

***

Got sappy in the end ngl. This is so shit, I didn’t do bee justice - I wanted to get it out fast and it has about as much structure as my relationship with the fam. Idk what I’m saying I’m very sleep deprived. 😌👍

[mikauzoran]

Lady Noir/Ladrien: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things): Chapter Two

Many thanks to @shadownoble for the prompt for this chapter!

Read it on AO3: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things: Chapter Two: Starlight

Groaning in exhaustion, Adrien collapsed facedown onto his bed.

Yet again, his father had run him ragged with photoshoots on top of magazine interviews on top of variety show appearances. That wasn’t even counting the extracurriculars he still had to do and the significant workload of his university classes.

He was so wiped, he almost didn’t move to look at his phone when it pinged with an incoming text.

When he saw the sender, however, he was glad that he’d put forth the effort. It was Ladybug checking in on him.

“i remember you saying you had a busy day so i wanted to see how it went”

A second message quickly followed the first: “hang in there!”

His heart melted a little at her concern.

“Thanks for thinking of me, Buguinette. <3” he typed back. “Today”

He paused, briefly considering lying and telling her that it had gone fine. Ultimately, though, he decided on honesty.

“didn’t go very well. There were a lot of problems that put us behind schedule, and my father was in a bad mood. I’m surprised no one got akumatized, honestly.”

“are you okay?” she replied immediately.

He bit his lip.

“he didnt take it out on you did he?” she prompted, and he suspected that she already knew the answer.

Adrien winced, hedging, “I’m all right. Just tired. It was a long day.”

His father had, in fact, lashed out at Adrien, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. Ladybug was already on the warpath against his father, and he didn’t need to give her any more reasons to hold a grudge.

Several minutes passed with no response from Ladybug, so Adrien flopped back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

He was just starting to doze off when a knock on his window pulled him out of the dazed limbo between sleep and wakefulness.

Adrien sat up with a jolt and found Ladybug smiling and waving from the other side of the glass panes.

He fumbled for the remote on his nightstand and hurriedly pointed it at the windows.

“Good evening,” she greeted cheerily as she stepped down into his room. “It’s not too late for a visit, is it?”

“A visit from you?” he chuckled. “Never. For you, my window is always open.”

“Good to know,” she laughed, taking in his rumpled, worn state. “I actually came to make sure you were doing okay and see if you wanted to go stargazing with me, but you look pretty beat.”

Sheepishly, he admitted, “I might be a tiny bit dead on my feet, but I’d never pass up the opportunity to spend time with you, My Lady.”

She didn’t know if she was ever going to get used to hearing him say that with Adrien’s face. It was taking all of her available energy to keep it together around him because she knew that treating him differently would only make things worse and defeat the purpose of her knowing his identity in the first place.

Oblivious to his partner’s internal struggle, Adrien got to his feet and was just about to call on his transformation when he remembered and winced.

“…Except…I promised Plagg that if he were good today, he could relax and watch his Netflix shows and eat Camembert in his sock drawer the rest of the evening.”

Ladybug shrugged, unconcerned. “You don’t have to transform. Just put a jacket on so you don’t get cold, and I can carry you.”

Cheeks burning, Adrien did as bid, slipping on a jacket and then taking her proffered hand.

The feel of her suit on his bare skin was odd but not uncomfortable. He couldn’t compare it to any material he was familiar with.

Not for the first time, he wished that there didn’t have to be a barrier between them.

“At least we’re one step closer to that reality with her knowing my identity,” he tried to comfort himself.

Meanwhile, Ladybug was internally freaking out and glad she still had the thin veil of anonymity to hide behind.

Almost a week after learning her partner’s identity, she was still struggling to reconcile Chat Noir with Adrien, and the feelings she had for both of them were making things complicated.

With a smile carefully pasted in place, she scooped him up into her arms and set off over the rooftops.

She didn’t go far—only to the Eiffel Tower a few blocks from the Agreste Mansion.

“Do you know much about the stars?” he asked as they settled into their usual spots at the top of the monument, away from the prying eyes of the public.

“Not really,” she confessed, sheepishly pushing a lock of hair out of her face. “You?”

“A little.” He pointed up at the sky. “Even though it’s autumn now, you can still see the summer triangle. There’s Vega, Deneb, and Altair.”

She nodded as she made out three bright stars that seemed to form a triangle.

“Over there by the moon, you can see Jupiter and Saturn,” he added, motioning to what looked like two big, dazzling stars.

She frowned. “How can you tell them apart from regular stars?”

“Planets don’t twinkle,” he explained. “Since they’re closer and bigger, their light doesn’t get distorted by the Earth’s atmosphere as much as the stars that are farther away. So, while stars twinkle when dust particles pass between them and us, planets shine more steadily because the dust particles don’t obstruct as much of their light.”

It was the kind of thing that wasn’t out of place coming from Adrien, but Ladybug couldn’t imagine having the same conversation with Chat Noir.

She blinked at him in amazement. “You’re really smart, Chaton.”

“Me? Smart?” A short bark of laughter caught him by surprise, and he shook his head. “I’m just a nerd whose parents kept him locked up most of his childhood. I read a lot to fill the time, so I’ve got a ton of useless trivia floating around up here.”

He tapped the side of his head. “For example, did you know that cats purr to self-sooth? Or, how about that the first cat video was filmed in 1894?”

Now it was her turn to burst out laughing.

That was her dumb cat, all right.

“You are such a dork,” she chortled, shaking her head in disbelief.

He shrugged, looking back up at the sky with a grin.

It was a huge relief that things between them hadn’t changed all that much since she’d learned his identity. It made him think that maybe things would be okay.

Her laughter slowly faded, and she scooted in a little closer, joining him in gazing up at the stars.

They sat there for several minutes before she spoke again.

“…You know…” She swallowed, mentally steeling herself for the confession. “…there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Hm?” He tipped his head to the side, his curious gaze meeting her apprehensive one.

“I thought you should know that, about six years ago, I had this ridiculous crush on you—Adrien you,” she clarified.

His eyes flew as wide as galaxies. “You… What?”

“It wasn’t a celebrity crush or anything!” she rushed to assure, waving her arms wildly. “I…I sort of know you in real life, and I had a crush on you.”

His mouth opened and closed several times, and, after a handful of false starts, he managed to respond. “You said that you had a crush on me. Like…as in past tense.”

He drew in a slow breath, mentally preparing himself for the worst. “May I ask what I did that made your crush a past tense thing? Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh!” she gasped, waving her arms like an air traffic controller yet again. “No! Nothing like that. It wasn’t your fault. It was me.”

He winced. “So…‘it’s not you; it’s me’ is what you’re saying?”

She cringed, realizing what an insincere cop out that sounded like. “No. For real, Adrien. It was me. I needed to prioritize my duties as Ladybug, so I didn’t have time for dating, but…mostly…it was that I realized that I didn’t know you as well as I should for how obsessed with you I was.”

She averted her eyes as shame bubbled up hot and red on her cheeks. “It was unhealthy, and I decided that I needed to take a step back and focus on my friendship with you…so that’s what I did. I concentrated on being your friend.”

Tentatively, she looked back up at him. “I think you needed a friend more than anything at the time anyway. …Though, I’m not sure if I even did a good job being your friend. I mean, I completely missed how bad your home life is, how much you hate your hobbies, how little control you feel like you have…”

He shook his head, setting his hand on her shoulder. “Buguinette, no. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I don’t let people see that side of things. Not even Nino knows the whole truth. I’m sure you did your best to be a good friend to me.”

He bit his lip and hesitated. “…Though…I kind of wish you would have said something about your feelings for me.” He accompanied his words with a wink and a teasing Chat Noir grin.

She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. “Flirt. You would have turned me down flat. You would have been nice about it, but you’d never have gone out with me.”

He grimaced when he realized that she was most likely right. “Probably. I may be stupid, but at least I’m loyal.”

“You’re not stupid,” she groaned. “Be nice to yourself, you dumb cat.”

He leaned in and rested his head against hers. “…Thank you. It means a lot to me that you care.”

“Of course I care,” she sighed. “You have no idea how much I care about you—both sides of you.”

She took a slow, steady breath. “…Plenty of other people care about you too, Adrien. That’s why I think you need to open up with your friends. Nino at least should know about how bad things are. He loves you, and he’d do anything he could to help.”

Adrien pulled away, straightening up and shaking his head. “I don’t want to be a burden on them.”

“They would never think of you that way,” she insisted vehemently.

“I don’t want them to worry when there’s nothing really they can do,” he amended.

“They can at least listen,” she argued. “They can text you cat memes and check in on you and let you vent. Isn’t that all you really want? People supporting you and validating your feelings and reminding you that you’re loved?”

He pursed his lips, silently considering for a long stretch. “…Yes, but…”

“Marinette told me what happened at the photoshoot today, what your father said to you.”

Adrien winced.

He’d known that Marinette was there at the shoot interning, but…

“Marinette heard that?”

Ladybug nodded.

Practically everyone on site had heard Gabriel railing at Adrien.

“He was wrong, you know.” She reached up and gingerly started massaging his scalp. “You’re not useless. He has no idea what he’s talking about.”

Adrien made a noncommittal noise as he closed his eyes and lowered his head to her shoulder.

“You’re amazing and wonderful and hardworking and kind and smart and brave…and the best partner ever,” she stressed with unwavering conviction. “Your father is blind if he can’t see how incredible you are.”

“Thank you, My Lady,” he whispered, voice brittle and trembling as he held in tears.

“…You should tell your friends,” she repeated, gently urging. “You should have support in your daily life, Adrien. I can’t always be there for you, but I want you to have that kind of support. You deserve it.”

“Maybe,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “It’s just…my friends all have really solid family relationships. I don’t think they’d even understand.”

“But they’d try,” she countered. “They’d want to try to understand. They love you.”

“It’s hard to tell people you respect that you’re not all right,” he sighed.

She kept pressing, desperate to get him more support. “They’re not going to think any less of you, Chaton. I don’t. …Maybe start with someone you know will be on your side. Maybe Nino? Or…or Marinette? She was awfully worried about you today. I’m sure she’d want to help.”

Adrien winced and pulled away, sitting up to meet Ladybug’s gaze. “Yeah, but I already told one girl I like that I’m a mess this week. I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared to tell the other one too.”

She stared at him, blinking slowly as her braincells tried to reconfigure what he had said into something that made sense.

“You… You like…?”

An adoring smile spread across his lips, and a soft blush lit up his face. He nodded, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck.

“Marinette,” he completed, voice full of affection when he said her name. “Yeah. I do. I have for a while now. She’s so sweet and thoughtful and fierce and courageous.”

He laughed. “I’m lucky she deigns to be my friend. Ladybug, she’s so out of my league.”

“I’m sorry. What?” she scoffed, not believing what she was hearing. “You—you who are not only Chat Noir but also Adrien Agreste—you think that Marinette Dupain-Cheng is out of your league?”

Earnestly, he nodded. “Ladybug, she’s amazing. She’s like you.”

She covered her face with her hands as her brain overloaded from how adorable he was.

“Marinette’s not out of your league,” Ladybug grumbled. “…and neither am I.”

His eyebrows slowly climbed up into his hairline.

“Shut up,” she replied preemptively.

A broad grin broke out on his face as he realized that maybe Ladybug’s feelings for Adrien weren’t entirely a past tense thing after all.

“Stop that,” she groaned.

“What? I’m not doing anything,” he chuckled, cuddling up beside her once more.

“You’re being smug,” she pouted, dropping her hands from her face and wrapping an arm around him.

“I would never,” he playfully protested.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they snuggled and gazed at the stars once more.

“…Maybe I should talk with my friends about what’s going on,” Adrien whispered after a long stretch. “It’s just really hard to be vulnerable like that.”

She gave him an encouraging squeeze. “We can practice, if you think that will help.”

He took a deep breath. “Hey, Nino? There’s something I want to talk with you about, if it’s okay.”

“Sure, Mec,” Ladybug responded, doing her best Nino impression. “What’s up, mon pote?”

“…My relationship with my father is in the rubbish bin, and I kind of hate my life,” Adrien groaned.

“Dude. That is it, Mec. I’m adopting you,” Ladybug as Nino decreed. “I’ll fight anyone who gets in my way. We’re gonna make this right.”

Adrien burst out laughing, leaning heavily on his partner. “I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. That’s probably exactly what he’s going to say.”

“So, you’ll tell him?” she pressed, mentally crossing her fingers.

Adrien blew out a long exhale. “Yeah. I’ll try to talk to my friends soon. You’re right. It’s more than I can deal with on my own, and I could seriously use my friends.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Ladybug reminded, giving his hair a nuzzle.

[sparks-joy-imagines]

Hello admins, hope you're having a great day ! I just read your rules and I didn't quite understand the asking process, so I'll just shoot my shot and ask here if you don't mind ?

I have a request for a nsfw scenario with sabo (one piece) and fem!reader, in which he's jealous of new trainees checking her out while she shows them moves and she's clueless about it ? Maybe a little angst with it ? Nothing violent ofc

Thank you so much have a great day ❤

Hello there❤ Thank you so much for reading the rules, and sorry if they got you confused! Your request is perfectly fine, as is anything within our boundaries! I hope you can enjoy this scenario, it’s been a lot of fun to write uwu~ have a great day, too✨ - mesu.

Sabo x f!reader

warnings: not sfw, reader gets penetrated, unsafe intercourse (pls don’t do this), (gentle) choking

An aggravated sigh left his lips when the chief of staff finally stepped out of the meeting room. For the past couple hours all of the revolutionary army’s higher ups had discussed the most recent concerning developments in the world and by now all he wanted to do was to pull you close and call it a day.

Sabo started pacing the base’s grounds, checking the spots where he’d usually find you but with no luck. About to give up and just head back to his quarters without you, he vaguely recalled that you muttered something about the new recruits lacking basic hand to hand combat skills this morning. Turning on the spot, he headed over to the gym, yet stopped short right in front of the folding doors which lead to the training area.

“Thank you so much for your guidance, [Y/N]-chan!”

Since when exactly were the new recruits addressing you so casually?

“Yeah, this training session’s amazing… I’m afraid I still don’t really get the choke hold defence though. Mind showing us again?”

Then your voice.

“Always happy to help out! And sure thing, will you please resume position so I can show you how it’s done once again?” Sabo could hear the joyous bliss in your voice, but the tones of the new recruits struck him somewhat off.

When he turned the corner, he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. There you were, lying on the ground, knees cocked up while one of the new recruits was kneeling on top of you, legs grinding in your sides, his hands around your neck and feeling way too comfortable in this suggestive position; the other recruit who stood just a couple steps away leering at the scene unfolding in front of him while you were happily chatting away about the technique oblivious to the thoughts of your new comrades.

It had been long since Sabo felt such ferocious flames of fury gnawing at his stomach. He barely noticed how he entered the training grounds, taking long strides and only stopping to squat down to the recruit kneeling over you, his hand – almost distinctly resembling his trademark dragon claw – placed firmly on the guy’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry lads, but I’ll have to steal [Y/N] away now. I’m most confident that you guys are perfectly capable of figuring out how to escape the choke hold on your own from here on.”

Even though his tone was cheerful, the high intensity of his gaze and tightness of his grip on the recruit’s shoulder made it unmistakably clear that he was not tolerating any of their low-key harassment towards you. The second recruit took a step back, almost stumbling over his feet, “Of course, chief of staff, Sabo, sir..”. He shot his mate a look who didn’t dare move an inch whatsoever. You however didn’t notice anything about the shift in atmosphere and happily jumped on your feet when Sabo simply pulled the recruit up at his shoulder, not caring about the little squeal he made. “All finished up, Sabo?” You went to give Sabo a hug, eager to feel his arms around your frame but before you could get your hands on him he just grabbed you and flung you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing more than a feather, making you squeak in surprise. “Gentlemen.”

You felt Sabo’s head move in greeting beside your frame but his voice was as cold as ice.

“Sabo?“ you inquired softly but were silenced by a light slap on your buttock from your boyfriend as he casually, yet swiftly, carried you off to his quarters. Soon you were thrown onto his bed and it’s mere seconds until he’s over you, kneeling in the same position you had just taught the new recruits to escape from earlier. Your breath caught in your throat when you met his dark gaze. There was something feral about the way he looked. You could feel his hands cup your cheeks hard, just so it wouldn’t hurt. “Do you have any idea what just happened in the gym, [Y/N]?” His voice was low, dangerously so, and you felt his grip loosen a little so you could shake your head in response, before clarifying, “Nothing out of the ordinary? I mean, they had trouble at hand to hand combat and I showed them how to get out of a choke hold and that’s–“

“And exactly how many times did you show them to get out of the choke hold? Them kneeling over you? Pinning you to the ground? Alternatively, you cradling them between your thighs?” By now, one of his hands had wandered to your neck, long fingers smoothly wrapping around your throat, the other starting to knead your breasts. You felt a shiver running down your spine as you muttered, “A couple..”. Sabo raised his brows and leaned down to you, his lips touching yours with every word he uttered. “And what exactly do you think they imagined doing to you when they were on top of you like this?” Your eyes finally widened in realisation when he rocked his hips against your core, a gasp escaping your lips. “I don’t know about you, but I will not tolerate any other man even thinking about what’s mine.” His fingers squeezed your neck, restricting your air flow just the right amount for you to start feeling everything ever so slightly more intense and you knew instantly you couldn’t escape this choke hold even if you tried to. Not that you actually wanted to.

You felt his free hand tugging and pulling away at your garments while the hand around your neck kept up the pressure. You didn’t dare to speak up but the more he touched you, the more lewd sounds of yours validated him and his actions.

Unsure of what to do with your hands you let them timidly roam up his thighs and felt his weight shift towards you when you reached his growing bulge, earning an expectant grunt.

Once Sabo got rid of your clothes, he didn’t hesitate to pull away and help you free his member from its containment. You felt his intense gaze back on you almost instantly, looking for any clue of resistance, but it was futile to find. The heat in your core was almost unbearable by now. “Sabo…mh.. just take me,” you whispered breathlessly when you felt his fingers at your slick pussy. “Oh I will,” Sabo muttered under his breath as he brought you into position and suddenly slid his entire length into you in one smooth motion, making you scream softly.

He gave you but a moment to adjust before he pulled out almost completely, prodding at your entrance as he caught your gaze, a cheeky smirk on his lips while his fingertips circled at your clit enhancing the sensation. “Why don’t we try to let them hear who you belong to?” Sabo smirked and pressed a single hard kiss on your lips before he finally let go of your neck just as he thrust into you again, building up a steady deep pace. You couldn’t help but suck in the newfound oxygen greedily just to moan out Sabo’s name seconds later, following his suggestion without any second thought. This man knew how he needed to fuck you into the sheets, and he knew it well.

It wasn’t long until he had you on the edge, one hand at your hips to ensure he hit the very point in you that made you see stars, the other massaging at your boobs.

Another thrust and you contracted around him screaming his name for the world to hear, pushing Sabo over the edge as well. He spread his sticky cum in you and continued to move for a couple more strides, allowing you to ride out your high.

Finally, Sabo pulled out of you carefully, rolling down from your form, a satisfied smile on his lips. He immediately pulled you in his arms and let you get comfortable on his chest. After a few moments of Sabo absentmindedly playing with your hair, you decided to break the silence, “Sorry for not realising what they were thinking….”. “It’s not your fault that some people don’t know any boundaries.” “Still..,” you sighed softly and peeked up to Sabo’s face, “You think they heard?”. A hearty chuckle escaped your lovers lips, “They better did.”

[thefanbasewhore]

I loved your Javier preference can you do "You're not alone, I'm here." With Javier? 💞💞

Summary: based off the prompt list I reblogged. Javier is there for the new DEA agent after her first shoot out.

This is short, I'm getting ready to go to bed but wanted to fit a little something in. Enjoy! No use of Y/N.

Warning/content: Fluffy Javier, descriptions of shooting and killing. Reader is a young agent but her and Javi kind of have a thing.

Paring: Javier Peña/Female Reader

Colombia is beautiful, absolutely breath taking between the thick green forests, clear beaches and warm weather it's almost a dream. Family from the states would often stare how jealous they are of her, saying that one should be grateful for an opportunity like this.

But it was lonely.

Let's face it, being new anywhere sucks, the agents who have been here for years had their own clique, friends bonded by time and even blood which left her an unknowing outsider. While the other fellow DEA agents were grouping at a bar trying to forget the demons of the day she found herself alone every single night.

There's something about silence that makes chills creep up the devil's neck, the over thinking it entitles and she's has plenty of time personally witnessing how soul crushing it could be. After particularly rough days, seeing things that make her skin burn she would contemplate resigning, going home to face failure but at least have company again.

Two agents in particular are the only two who would bother talking to her. Agent Murphy and Agent Peña, desks only feet away from her own but she even thinks it's out of pure pity, they're nice men but work too much. Always busy, never around when the office dies and she's faced with the predicament of going home or staying longer at the office to avoid the insecure hours of silence that were bound to come.

"Agent." The words make her snap her head up away from the paper work scattered across the desk, peering into the dark swirls of brown, they match the curling hair at the base of his neck. "You ready to go?"

"Where?" The small dimples that pop through the patches of facial hair are enough to make anyone's knees weak, but luckily she's sitting, just admiring the beautiful man in front of her.

While she did believe it was only out of pity, she might have a teeny, tiny crush on him. How could she help it? Javier was hot headed, a fool with emotions, slept with a too many woman but was compassionate, smart, brave, handsome but most of all called her Hermosa.

She has no idea what it means, her spanish is shit but the way the words roll to perfectly from his tongue, the way his dimples peak smirking after they are muttered literally makes it hard to breath. Much like now, eyebrows raised in a teasing matter, a small chuckle falls from his perfect pout as he leans against the desk. "You didn't listen to a word I said did you?"

"I, um.." Hating the way her cheeks heat up she clears her throat, acting as if there's something stuck that causing the change of color in her face. "Was reading the report.."

"We need to head out to check a tip, meet you outside in ten hermosa." Theres thosd words again, she's completely speechless only nods a validation of understanding. She can't help as her eyes run down the back of his silhouette, a pink shirt stretches over his broad shoulders dipping into the curve of his slim waist then to his jeans that curve so perfectly over his -.

Shaking her head from the thoughts she stands, pulling her jacket over shoulders to joint Javier outside.

Javier is the perfect gentleman, opening the door to the car, asking if the air conditioning setting are okay not only once but twice not wanting her to be uncomfortable. Despite only knowing the man for a few months, and crushing embarrassingly hard, she felt more comfortable in this car then she did at her own home.

It's almost impossible to stop looking at him, one hand on the wheel, the other bringing a cigarette to his pout, lips wrapping around to take a large puff. His shirt is buttoned to the middle of his chest, even though it is scarce there are a few dark hairs that poke out from it, down his lean torso to his flattening thighs due to the pressure of the seat under him. He's looks so good, it's not right, he has to be at least ten or more years older but she wants nothing more than to lean against him, touch those lips with her own, run her fingers around the fatness of his bottom lip, feel his tongue poke out to suck on them.

"See something you like?" It's a tease, smirk that not only makes her cheek ignite but chest blush with pink patches. She's been caught, silent as her mouth drops to say something but Javier beats her to it. "I'm kidding, you should have seen your face."

"You're an asshole." The words are said with harsh tone, but with a smile and an eye roll that softens it up. "I was just actually wondering how many of those things you smoke a day, I heard they were bad for you."

The playful tone of earlier is gone, it's replaced by a lingering silence, a mix of anxiety and anticipation makes her stomach flip. The wall his cold against her skin but it helps hide her from the impending danger. Her breath is trembling, chest is expanding so fast she swears she can't breath.

It all happened so fast, Javier and her doing a sweep of the building then yelling, chaos erupting in the form of unforgiving bullets. Javier and her separated but him pushing her away from the danger only to face it head on himself.

One of them chasing and following her. While anyone would believe they would act heroic in the moment, run head first like Javi at the danger she couldn't, she ran up the stairs, hid in one of the bedrooms shooting the passerbys.

But now she realizes how much of a bad idea it was, trapping herself with the man only stands a few feet from her, a sickly smile matches his words as he points the gun at her. "There you are princess."

She's immobilized, pausing as eyes squeeze together expecting searing pain but the loud sound the echos the room has blood painting her face, body falling limp at her feet. Curled up in the most ridiculous position but eyes open wide with shock as Javier stands in front of her, gun still held high despite the dead man pooling blood on her legs, his own chest heaving with adrenaline.

She can't help it, the way the tears swell up, chin quivers no matter how much she tries to hide it. Javi's eyes never leave, only lower his gun, extending his hand for she can take it.

She reaches for it but the body the separates them makes her falter. "Hey -- look up, eyes on me. It's alright."

"I'm sorry. I ran away, I left you all alone." Word are breathlessly whispered with breaks, her lungs didn't want to work crushing her chest with deep sorrow. "I've never done this before."

Hands run over her face, feeling the blood smear across it, pulling her hand away to see the redness to meet the cause again before Javi is speaking again. "Eyes on me, take my hand."

The shift from the house to the car is blurry, between the tears and the blood it was nearly impossible to see anything, all she could think about was how slimy it felt against her pant leg, how the smell was almost metallically.

Javier had started the car, taking a drag of his cigarette and squeezing the bridge of his nose with the same hand. His eyes meet her again, noticing the blank stare directed at blood stained hands, Javi reaches over taking his jacket from the back seat to try and rub the blood away but it makes it worse, staining fingers a dark pink.

"I was the same way." Guessing it was her first time seeing a dead body but truthfully it doesn't get any easier, just starts to fade into normalcy. "Let's get you home hermosa."

"No --." The words are choked, loud as eye meet his with fear. Anything but the lingering silence home entitles, it would be a punishment not a relief. "Please, I don't want to go home. I am alone, I don't want to be alone."

Javi pauses to take in her words, eyebrows expressing confusion at the out burst. The way her chin quivers with uncertainty, tears push past eye lids if it wasn't for the situation he would tell her how beautiful she looks like this but instead slowly extends his hand to cup her cheek, moving closer to feel her warmth, thumb running over the highest point of her cheeks feeling them soak with a mixture of tears and blood. "You're not alone, I'm here sweet girl."

[emmanelson]

Chapter 2: Nose Rings and Nightcaps

you guys asked for a follow up chapter so here you go

takes place during 2x04: ...Had an Indian Frenemy

Devi tried not to let Aneesa get under her skin. And for most of the day, she was good at faking a smile or a laugh when she needed to. 

“We still on for tutoring this week?” Paxton had caught up to her in the hallway and Devi attempted to send him a smile.

“Yeah. But let’s go to your house. I think my grandmother has a crush on you.”

Paxton was glancing over at Aneesa and Devi saw red. 

“Saw you talking to Neese. She’s dope. You guys friends?” Not you too, Devi thought to herself in horror. Would Paxton call her Devi 2.0 as well?

“Yeah, pretty dope.” Devi muttered under her breath before turning on her heel and walking away with an eye roll. 

Not wanting things to end on such a bad note, Devi slowly walked back up to Paxton and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Do you want a quickie in the janitor’s closet?”

His pulse sped up as he blinked, staring at her in disbelief. “Aren’t you worried about being late to class?” People had begun to disperse, the hallways emptying as students ran in different direction and they were the only ones left that Devi could see. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I’ll see you later then.” Just as she was able to make a dramatic exit and turn back to give him a flirty smile, he had secured her wrist and pulled her back towards him. 

“Five minutes enough time?” 

‘If you can last that long.” The two stared at each other, equally cocky expressions forming as they practically ran towards the vacant closet trying not to laugh. 

“So what subject should we start with?” Paxton inquired as soon as Devi situated herself at his kitchen table. 

“Biology?”

“But with History, all you have to do is rap and suddenly it makes sense. Can you do something like that for me with Bio?”

“Look at biology in terms of swimming.” The look Paxton gave her was one of confusion and incredulous. 

“The last thing I want to think about is swimming while I still have this damn cast.”

Devi’s mouth opened only to close a few seconds later as she tried to change the subject, he made a valid point. 

Devi leaned up to an upper level in the pantry and Paxton was pretty sure he stopped breathing for a good minute or two when he saw her bare skin.  

“Are you good having a snack break? Our brains need food as well.”

He felt like shoving her against the door of the pantry and fuck her until her entire body was shaking, but his mouth felt like cotton so he found himself nodding. 

Devi moved further into the kitchen and made her way towards the fridge. She got out the filtered water, placing it on the counter and filled up two glasses before setting it back where it was prior. When she shut the door, her body jolted in response as two strong arms wrapped around her waist and turned her so she was now facing him.

Within the time that Devi had gotten the Britta back in the fridge, Paxton pressed his body against hers so she was placed between the firmness of his body and the sturdy metal of the fridge door. 

“Shouldn’t this wait until after we get through your assignment?” Devi murmured against his lips, exhaling a shallow breath as she fought to curve into his body and let school be damned. 

“Sex is basic biology isn’t it?” His breath was hot against her ear and her knees threatened to buckle out from under her. “A primal instinct. An animalistic urge.” He nipped at her collarbone, teeth and tongue switching off as his hands went underneath her shirt to cup her breasts. 

“Pheromones are detected through the hippocampus.” She shuddered against him as she spoke, the words coming out slowly as she struggled to level her breathing. 

“How do you make biology sound so sexy?” Her lips parted as he let out a low chuckle. She only buried her face against the fabric of his flannel, trying to hide the blush that now painted her cheeks. With his only good arm he lifted up her body and pushed her against the cool metal, an involuntary squeal slipping past her lips as her legs wrapped around his waist. 

“Say something else.”

“Hormones are produced and secreted by the endocrine glands.”

“Why is this turning me on?” Paxton grunted, his throbbing lower region rubbing against her core, only fueling her desires. 

“What can I say? I know what I’m talking about.” She never thought that being smart would lead to this kind of situation. 

“I need to learn how to apply this stuff right?” His voice dropped to a husky tone as Devi once again gulped, her brain turning to mush as her legs began to shake. 

“Where’s Rebecca? Your mom?”

“Work, and my mom is tending to her garden out back. She usually plays 60’s music or listens to Christian audiobooks.”

“So she won’t be able to hear us?” Her fingers toyed with the zipper on his jeans, his hard-on poking through the fabric. 

“Not if you’re quiet enough.” Her eyes widened at the tone his voice now took, it was almost demanding and harsh against her skin, the intensity of his gaze never wavering. 

Paxton almost scoffed at her doe-eyed gaze but then kissed her so he wouldn’t keep feeling like a dick. With that, his jeans dropped and he was pulling her shorts down, her underwear following soon after, the wetness seeping from it was felt on her ankles. 

Soon he was inside her and each time she lifted her hips to meet his, her shirt rode up and the cold hit her back, causing goosebumps to raise on her arms. She didn’t mind this kind of tutoring.

The following Friday, Devi and Paxton were texting back and forth while she sat with Aneesa and Eleanor in her bedroom. 

And they still texted as Devi got to know Aneesa and decided that she wasn’t all that bad after-all. Ben had stomped away from her after she had gotten her nose pierced, Eleanor and Aneesa were probably blocks ahead of her by now and all she wanted to do was sit down on the bench and listen to her dad’s voicemail until the sun came up. She didn’t want to go home, but she knew she couldn’t stay in an abandoned parking lot so she walked until her feet had carried her straight to Paxton’s house.

She had walked, rode by on her bike, and memorized every turn her mom took in the car for so long now that it was basically muscle memory. 

She hesitantly knocked on the door to his garage, and his face came into view as he rubbed his eyes. 

“Were you sleeping? Do you fall asleep in the garage a lot?” She furrowed her eyebrows as she took in his disheveled form. He still looked hot even in a T-shirt and sweats. 

“Nah, I was up playing Fortnite.” The glow from the TV hit Devi’s eyes as soon as she stepped in and he shut the door behind them. “Is that a nose ring?” He took a step closer to her and leaned in, inspecting the new piece of jewelry she was sporting. 

“It looks nice.” Devi was glad it was pitch black outside because she was surely turning beet red. It looked badass actually, but Paxton wasn’t about to be singing her praises just yet. He still felt like he was getting a bucket of ice poured on his chest whenever she came into view. 

“Did you come here for a nightcap or something?” He teased, eyes momentarily leaving hers as he scanned his phone to check the time. It wasn’t too often that she was even out this late, let alone showing up to his place in the middle of the night. 

She slowly leaned up and brushed her lips against his. She kissed him slowly, her lips moving against him as if she was burning and he provided the only source of water available. She wanted to savor it, but at the same time knew she had to stick to their arrangement. 

“Maybe more of a late night booty call?” She cringed at her own use of the word, but it brought a smile out onto Paxton’s face, and she would gladly take the embarrassment if he kept looking at her with that smile, with those eyes. 

“Do you always look this good?” He asked, upon seeing the outline of her skirt, how it was torn at the ends and how he wanted to rip whatever remained so it was off her body. 

“If you’re quiet enough, we won’t wake your parents or sister.” She repeated his words from earlier, a finger coming up to hover over his lips. He was about to ask about school, mention that they usually only fooled around when it had something to do with his grades, but he decided against it. She was here, wanting him, offering up her body to him. In the back of his mind, he briefly wondered if she was having a similar type of arrangement with Ben, but from the cold reception and snarky comments the younger guy was throwing her way, he figured he had gotten the better end of the deal. 

His eyes looking at her up and down, fingers playing with the zipper of her skirt as she pushed his shirt up and over his head. She lightly tugged on his hands, steering him towards the couch and climbing on top of him when they finally landed.  

Paxton was tracing the outline of her jean skirt with his fingers, dipping in and out of her inner thighs and her breath hitched. “Do you this could count as my PE credit?” 

“It does burn a shit ton of calories.” Paxton smirked in reply, moving a piece of hair behind her ear as he kissed any exposed skin he could find and peeled off her tank top. “I’ll write you a note.” Was the only response that he was able to form before flipping them over so she was wiggling underneath him. 

Her name vibrated against her own ear as he came, sweat sticking to their bodies as he slumped against her. He moaned her name in a way that felt like the first time anyone had ever uttered it. She had never heard it sound so beautiful. The tension and anxiety she had been feeling earlier in the evening was gone, replaced with a warmth that spread all throughout her body. 

“I should probably go.” She had checked her phone to see it had blown up with text messages and calls from Eleanor and Aneesa, asking where she was and telling her she needed to come back before her mother woke up. She slid her clothes back on with ease, unlocking her phone to see the full extent of the damage. Paxton only nodded in response as he slipped his boxers back on and stood up. 

“This is what you look like in the morning, after sex might I add?” She gawked, eyes hungrily scanning over his shirtless form. 

“Guess so.” He grinned, he couldn’t help his looks anymore than Devi could help the fact that she was naturally good at embarrassing herself at parties. 

“Not fair.”

“It looks pretty badass by the way.” Paxton complimented, biting his lip as he walked them towards the door. “The nose ring.”

“Thanks.”

“And thank you for the study help today. Or is it yesterday since it’s technically now tomorrow?” A look of confusion set in as Devi let a soft laugh bubble. 

“Thanks for the orgasms.” And before Paxton could search his brain for a reply, Devi had hurried out the door and didn’t even look back to see if he was staring at her retreating form.  

He totally was. 

[zelistair]

lover's oath, xiao pov.

Inspired by: Lover's Oath - HOYO-MiX

-

This song played when we first met each other's gazes. As for someone who has lived long enough to see almost all things that there is to see, I never thought that there would be a sight that would make me surprised again. A sight that would make my arrogance and coldness falter.

All there is to Liyue, I have seen them all. Well, I thought.

Back then, even before you visited the Land of Contracts, I became aware of your existence. You were the mighty outlander hailed from Mondstadt who saved the Nation of the Wind from Dvalin. You're great in the eyes of all people, whatever nation they may come from.

All was awed and made aware of your bravery, achievement, and mightiness. I was no exception.

As the last Yaksha alive, all burdens lies on my shoulder. The responsibilities that my comrades and I are all supposed to share, they all fell on my shoulders the moment my comrades vanished. All my life, I lived only to help and protect Liyue and its people. For thousands of years, I did it all alone.

You were not the first one to offer help, but you were the first one who extended your arms and hands voluntarily with a sweet smile. You were the first one who's willing. You were the first one who's genuine.

When I lost my comrades, I almost forgot how it felt to have someone by your side through thick and thin. When you came, you made me remember that feeling again. And you made that feeling better. Not only through thick and thin but you're there even when I don't need you to, even when I don't tell you to.

Slowly, I started to see you in a different light.

When you turn around and smile at me after "protecting" me from monsters, I would evade your gaze, your smile. I did not know how to respond for your smile was the brightest. That one time when we released lanterns on the sky, I didn't have the chance to make a wish because I was busy staring at you who's wishing with your eyes closed. With all the lights coming from the lanterns floating in the air lighting your calm face, I strangely felt comforted. That moment felt like it was meant to last forever.

I would like every moment actually to last forever.

You would stay home with me frome time to time and cook my favorite foods. Sometimes, I'd catch you waiting for me inside the house while cooking. I never thought that the thought of someone waiting for me to come home would make me smile.

I thought my smile had disappeared long time ago. My happiness which didn't come back even when I want it to, it surfaced again because of you.

Right then and there, I knew I don't want to let you go. I knew I had to keep you. Because if I don't, I'd go crazy for another time and for that time, I don't think I'd survive.

But, I also know that I can't.

You're the bravest, smartest, and mightiest adventurer and outlander that there is. Traveling nations is what you do. It is your job, your happiness. To take that away from you is not something that I can do. I know that your smile would falter and turn lifeless if I did.

Besides, protecting and helping Liyue is what I do, too. Not Mondstadt, not Inazuma, not Sumeru, Snezhnaya or any other nation but Liyue. Even if I would love to keep on living this current life I have with you forever, I know that it's impossible.

So, I let you go. I let you travel the vast seas to get to Inazuma. I know that you have to find your brother, your remaining family. I wouldn't stop you. Your freedom and bravery is what makes you shine brightly. My love for you is never shallow to take that light away from you, to take those feelings away from you.

So I let you be. I let you fly higher, farther.

Our memories are engraved deep in the rhythm and melody of Lover's Oath, so I'll be fine. Whenever this song plays, I would be reminded of you and you're well-being, I'd never be able to forget you.

I was fine, until news came back to Liyue.

In a letter, it was said that in the hands of the Fatui, the adventurer who saved Mondstadt, defeated Osial, and saved Inazuma, died. In an all out battle where the adventurer was caught up and was merely shielded with few soldiers, the second and third Fatui Harbingers all focused on the traveler.

At that moment, I feel like my head was about to burst. My eyes stings and are hot, my nerves are about to pop and my blood boiled. You.. killed. Died. In the hands of the enemy.

All of a sudden, our memories together flashbacks to me. Your smile, your laughter and your silly jokes. Our picnic on Qingce Village during sunset. Your photograph while lying on the flowerbed in Qingce. All of them came back to me. Why?

"Why didn't I follow you?" I whispered to myself.

I slammed the table making people around me shriek in surprise. The table was broken. All of a sudden, both of the archons appeared in front of me. Breathless, in shock, and livid.

"I could've done so much if I was there with her. I could've saved her. Take her to safety. Take care of her. I should've come with her. I should've been there," it was all I can whisper to myself. If the two gods in front of me are livid and full of sorrow and anger, I was probably worse.

"I know from the start that it wasn't safe, why did I let her leave?" Venti is now crying in frustration. His eyes, bloodshot and full of regrets.

"I should've just told her the truth and break that damn contract. The consequences, I can endure. But this? I can't, I will never be able to," Zhongli spoke.

My tears fell. My only light and happiness was taken away from me. I was once again deprived of the chance to be happy. This time, with her. I could've done so much if I only chose to come with her. And even if we both die, at least she's there with me. I'm there with her. Not like this.

"Zhongli! Xiao!"

A breathless Ningguang and Ganyu suddenly ran towards us. They were both surprised to see someone from Mondstadt but quickly tended their attention towards me. I was hanging my head low and crying, the letter still crumpled on my fist.

"I will avenge her. I will never stop until I kill those who took her away from me. I will not stop until her death's given justice," I whispered, full of anger, contempt, and nothing but blind grudge.

"Xiao.." Ganyu whispered. She then cried when she realizes that the news is true.

"T-traveler.." Ningguang stuttered.

I closed my eyes and let my thoughts flow. Right now, I'm fully ready to avenge you. I'm more than ready to give your death justice. Suddenly, our oath came to mind.

"I swear to never, ever, ever blame myself again for losing my sibling. I swear to never tire myself out again and to never overwork myself so Xiao won't have to get worried!"

Your smile and silly laugh was followed by your remark. My eyes shot open suddenly, but my tears never stopped. I looked at the sky above and saw that it's tinted with yellow-orange now. The sun is setting. For some reason, I don't want it to. It feels like it's you, saying goodbye to all of us.

I almost forgot the oath I made to you. Thank you, for making me remember. Thank you for still saving me even when you're not here anymore.

"I promise to not let myself hold a grudge again and let myself experience happiness.. even in its' tiniest form," I whispered. That was my oath to you. That promise helped a lot with dealing with myself. Now, even when you're gone, you still saved me. I almost went insane. I know that you won't like it if I do. I know you'd be stomping your feet up there, screaming, if I do go insane because of this.

And it hurts more because of that. Because the oath we made are still up and valid, but the person I did it with aren't anymore. How am I supposed to move forward now that you're gone?

I closed my eyes and screamed. I cried so much. I don't care if I'm in the presence of other people. I will let them know that there is someone who grieves for your death so much. That there is someone like me who's left alone because of the stupid ways of the Fatui. I will let everyone know that even when it's not immediately, I will avenge you. And make everyone who's responsible pay.

"I want to hear you again, please let me hear your voice again. Please let me see your smile one more time, I beg of you," I knelt down on the ground and cried.

Just one more time, please, talk to me. Let me know how you're doing. Let me know if you're fine, angry, calm..

"Talk to her, Xiao. She's listening through the wind," Venti suddenly spoke. I couldn't care to ask how did he know, all I want is to talk to her again. To hear her one last time.

"I will always love you, even when you're gone. I will never forget your smile, your words, the happiness you gave to me, the memories we shared. I will keep them all in my heart. I will love you for as long as I live. So please, let me hear your voice, my love. One more time," I desperately whispered.

I closed my eyes and felt a strong wind blowing. With the winds, a voice came.

"I know, Xiao. I love you too. I wouldn't have done those things with you if I didn't. Don't ruin yourself for me. I am contented with what happened. So, don't taint your hands for my sake. Just take care of Aether when you see or find him, alright? It's time for me to go now. And, say thank you to Venti. And say to everyone for me that I valued the time I had with them. I have to go now."

Then, the wind was gone.

Venti dropped to the ground and is panting. But at the same time, he had this weak and genuine smile on. As if he knows what she said. Figuring it all out, I looked at Venti.

"Thank you for letting me hear her one last time."

My gaze went back to the sky that's now turning gray and black. Soon, it'll grow dark. My wounds from today will never heal. My love for you from yesterday will never fade. My oath to you from before will always be valid. This oath has more power to it than what the others think. For it is my oath to you, my very last promise.

I wish I could've heard the song with you again for the last time. It is the song that played when I first met you. How ironic that it's also the song playing for the last time that I'm with you. If I could, I'd die in your place. I would've taken the pain you had on your dying moments if I could, if I was there.

For the love of my life who brought me back to my feet and taught me so much, thank you. So now, I oath to you. Here in your funeral, I oath to you that you will be the first and last person I would come to love for as long as I live. I promise to not let anyone replace you. This oath will be in power and valid, until we meet again in the arms of the gods and goddesses.

[jtrbluv]

hell-ish | pjm

summary: can be read as a separate oneshot or a continuation of ‘we’re not really strangers’“

“But do you remember when we went on a field trip to that amusement park in 8th grade? Around halloween time? … Yeah, I think that’s the moment I pretty much fell in love with you.“

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, humor, establisedrelationship!au

word count: 7.7k+

warnings: profanity (they are beyond terrified), inaccurate depictions of amusement park shenanigans, neurotic clowns (but they’re acting)

A/N: IM SO SRY ITS LITERALLY NOT EVEN HALLOWEEN ANYMORE GOODBYE DD; in my defense they typically have these typa things open after halloween ends... miss rona just isn’t allowing it this year ofc ;w; a special thanks to @viopera​ , @koushiningg​, and @bangtans-peaceful-piegon​ for letting me use their likeness, i love u all. and i hope you enjoy this late halloween fic right before thanksgiving break!

The car rolls to a smooth stop. The man in the driver’s seat puts the car into park—turning towards you while placing a reassuring hand on your thigh.

“Hey,” he says, a small close-lipped grin painting across his features, “you excited?”

You reposition in your seat so you can face him, or more specifically, your best-friend-turned-lover—the sight of him smiling causes you to elicit one of your own, your nerves slightly subsiding.

“I am actually,” you admit, “how long has it been? Six? Seven years?”

“Around there I think, but we should probably get going. The lines are probably going to be stupid long like always,” he suggests, his hand leaving your thigh only to ruffle the hair on top of your head, "Here's to new memories Y/N."

You step out onto the pavement—the crisp, cold night air nipping at your cheeks and nose. The cooler temperature serving as a reminder that winter was yet to come and autumn was about to come to a close. You form an O-shape with your mouth, exhaling sharply and seeing your own breath swirling and blending into the air around you.

Footsteps approach you from the side as you shut the car door. Your head whips around to see Jimin walking towards you with a dopey grin plastered on his face. In response, your eyes playfully loll back, a stream of air huffing out of your nose.

You shift your focus back towards in front of you, eyeing the roller coaster that intimidatingly loomed beyond the fence of the park, the drop tower that appeared just as high, and the other neighboring attractions that towered significantly enough to be seen from afar. The whole stretch of the park emitted a red glow, from what you could assume was from the large-scale lighting and technology that was spread out across the expanse.

A soft hand slides its way from your forearm down to your palm, intertwining all in one smooth motion. It was warm and comforting much unlike your frozen, almost entirely numb ones.

“Someone’s a little cold aren’t they,” he teases, using his other hand to attempt to rub more warmth into yours.

“You know my hands are chronically cold,” you pointedly whine, causing small clouds of air to shoot out of his mouth and nose due to his laughter.

He locks the car and you two begin making your way towards the entrance—from what seemed like a mile, in reality, was only a block away. There was practically no gap in between the two of you the entire time, taking advantage of each other’s body heat amidst the numbingly cold weather.

The wait wasn't too shabby, but you knew it was because time always seemed to pass by so much faster when you were with him, most of the pastime consisting of talking about how your past week has been, the fuckton of assignments you two had gotten, and the dangerously high intakes of caffeine you two had consumed as per usual.

The conversation ceased after a while, and it was just the two of you pressed side to side in comfortable silence, hands still intertwined. It was interesting to see such a vast variety of ages all around you—the most common age range were teenagers or people of the same age as the two of you, which wasn’t a surprise. After getting past the ticket booth and security check, you

two finally make it inside.

The first thing you notice is the large, antique carousel that hadn’t changed in the tiniest bit since the last time you were here.

The meticulously decorated entrance—brought to life by the fire torches, heavy-duty fog machines that didn't allow one to see after 10 feet ahead of them, bright lights that were replaced by either no lights at all or a faint red tint, and just the whole ambiance—had greatly juxtaposed the simplicity and familiarity of the carousel that stood in the eye of it all.

The heat of the fire torches allow you to regain some warmth back into your body—you create a small gap in between you and Jimin, in which he pouts and lifts your intertwined hands up to his face, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand.

“So, where do you wanna go first?” He asks, swinging your arm back and forth after passing through the gates.

“I’m fine with whatever,” you enunciate a bit loudly, the usual noises of amusement park shenanigans hindering your hearing.

“You sure about that?”

You click your tongue, “Jimin please, I’m a college student now, not a puny 8th grader anymore,” you argue, watching him turn away as he tries to stifle his laughter, “I swear!”

“Alright! Alright! I’ll believe you,” he eventually caves, frantically waving his hand to dismiss your concerns, “But I won’t believe you until I see it.”

“Oh, so we’re gonna play that game huh,” you retort, brows furrowing as a smirk creeps across your face, “Alright, so what do you think about riding that?” You ask innocently, motioning up towards the drop tower that forced one to crane their neck all the way back just to see the top.

You break your focus as you look back down and turn towards him to gauge his reaction. His jaw dropping down to his knees—eyes widened in complete bafflement and horror.

“Y/N. I am literally going to fucking die if I ride that shit. Oh my god.”

“What do you mean? It’s totally safe! I’ve been on it so many times.” You attempt to console him, knowing it’s futile because of the piercing glare he gives you right after you say that.

“And that’s supposed to make it better how?!"

You soothingly rub the back of his hand in an attempt to ease his nerves, “Of course I won’t push you if you don’t want to, you know.”

He sighs, “Well, now you’re just making me sound like a puny 8th grader.”

“I can assure you that you very much, are not Chim.” And he smirks at that, tightening his grip on your hand, making you wish that you didn't give him that ego boost in the first place because he surely didn’t need any more of that.

You take some time to mull over your options, but instead, go with whatever your gut feeling was initially leaning towards, “Okay, so what if every time you take me to a house, I have to take you on a ride. You get to choose the house and I get to choose the ride.”

He nods in acknowledgment, “I’m listening.”

“Does that sound valid?” You inquire.

He bites on his bottom lip, taking a moment to quickly cogitate between the options you had given him, and at last, he nods, "It sounds like a win-win."

"Or a lose-lose." You chuckle, and he mirrors.

He shakes his head, “I know you like rollercoasters and all that scary shit, but there’s also a ton of stuff that they’ve added since we’ve last been here.” He replies, thinking out loud, while making you feel more content with your decision, “You got a deal ma’am.” He affirms at last—releasing his grip to offer you his hand to seal the deal, in which you confirm resolutely by shaking it.

Just like he said, the amusement park most definitely stepped up their game ever since you both were middle schoolers, navigating the large expanse with a bunch of other measly and equally puny peers.

The deeper you two make your way into the park, the more themed attractions lined the path. At this point, you could barely make out the bottom half of your legs due to the thickness of the fog. Actors were running around left and right—faces decorated with FX makeup that you could barely discern because of the dim lighting—effectively scaring others, clear by the amount of ear-splitting shrieks you've heard in the past ten minutes that was enough to make your eardrums burst.

Jimin takes note of your slight tenseness. He wasn't oblivious and he knew that you were trying to feign nonchalance—but the razor-tight grip on his hand and lack of chatter on your end was saying otherwise. But just like everything you do, he thought it was cute anyway.

He promptly squeezes your hand, making you turn to face him, "Do you want the first pick?"

You hum, "You can have it if you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yess," you drag out exasperatedly, "how many times do I have to tell you that I'll be perf– !" You abruptly halt as a zombie (that very much isn't real is what you keep reminding yourself) whizzes past you, brushing against your shoulder and making you jump and trip over your own two feet.

The man beside you is quick to react—leaping in front of you with his arms out so you could fall into his grasp. And you do, gripping his arms to better steady yourself and stand up. As you attempt to straighten yourself out, your head sinks into his chest, laughter erupting out of the two of you to the point where his knees almost give out.

You detach yourself from his chest, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes from laughing so goddamn much. Finally regaining your poise, you immediately slip your fingers back in between his. He cards a hand through his locks with his remaining hand while taking deep breaths.

While tugging him away from where you two were standing to avoid another ruckus... granted that you were at a haunted amusement park, you shout into foggy air, "I'm fine, I'll be fine Jimin! Let's go!", hoping that maybe if you spoke it out into the world, you could manifest it into being true.

Well, weren’t you wrong.

-

A rare and near impossible feat is what you were able to accomplish: forcing Jimin to make a decision. Despite him already being a trademark libra, you always believed that one of his most standout and consistent libra-esque traits was the fact that he was so indecisive. To which had resulted in him forcing you to make decisions instead of him most of the time, whether they had been trivial or not.

The moment you realized that this "feat" wasn’t much of a feat, after all, was when you two had finally reached the entrance of the first haunted attraction he had chosen, his impulsive and most likely ulterior-motivated driven decision causing you to retract all preceding moments in which where you were being stubborn and indignant in him making the first pick.

Just your luck, his explanation behind his decision (and your almost near-death experience) is that he says and you quote, “Start off with a bang! We get the worst over with now so it’s all smooth sailing for the rest of the night. Trust me.”

For some context, you had a very  rational fear of clowns. The year of 2016 was already bad enough as it was—a time in which you had gotten out of your first serious relationship, afterward giving yourself the most horrendous haircut in your entire life because you were emotionally strung and the scissors… well they just happened to be within an arm’s reach.

Later on in said year when you had become a junior and assignments had been piling up higher and higher without any shits given whatsoever, your minuscule fear of clowns had been blown out of all proportions—ultimately fueled by the number of clown sightings around your town and one altercation that you still think about until this day. Four years later, you can still vividly recall the time where you were coming home after studying all day at the local library and on the other side of the street, you had spotted a clown—feet planted to the cement sidewalk, body immobile besides their head that would keep its focus on you as you continuously made your way down the street. As you began to quicken up your pace, the clown began to reciprocate your actions from across the way, and you came to the conclusion that you didn’t really wanna die that night so you sprinted the entire rest of the way home.

And here you two were, at the front of the line standing behind the black curtain entrance—next to a rugged wood sign with the words, CLOWNEUROTICS, inscribed with a dripping, rich red liquid which you surmise was fake blood and not Kool-Aid.

“I cannot believe I let you have the first pick and you do this to me” You quip, chewing the chapped skin of your lips, breath shallow and bated.

“Y/N, you’ll be just fine. I’ll be here right beside you, remember?” he assures you once more, giving you another tight squeeze on your hand.

The curtains swish open, the employee in a simple all-black ensemble motioning the two of you to come inside. You close your eyes, taking one deep and steady inhale before stepping in.

You can barely make out your surroundings, let alone Jimin, who was standing right beside you. The worker’s voice hollers over the deafening noises of the tent. “Follow the path, don’t go backwards, or else you'll hold up the line. And you see that green light?” He asks while pointing to the tiny green bulb that was down the hallway in front of you, “Take a right from there.”

Jimin replies, knowing that you’re too fear-stricken to form coherent sentences at the moment, “Alright, thanks.”

The man nods, and Jimin tugs on your hand as he begins to walk forward. You follow closely behind, reminding yourself to take breaths before you flat out lose consciousness.

As you reach the end of the hallway and the green light bulb the man mentioned, Jimin pauses and turns around to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, I know you hate my guts right now, but I’m sorry in advance and just know that I love you, okay? You have full permission to torture me after this.” He reassures with a wide grin.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” you grumble, lips downturned and head hanging low.

You feel his soft lips graze over your cheek, leaving a chaste peck before giving you an airy, irresistible smile that you can’t really help but relent, even though it already feels like your heart is about to implode on itself.

Taking a right, the setting of the attraction comes into periphery. White walls and floors—reminiscent of a hospital, are tainted with blood, a disarray of medical equipment, and severed body parts. You take notice of the vacant hospital beds, sheets crumpled and stained with red. Framed pictures of medical staff were hanging by loose nails, glass shattered, bloody splatters and smears all over the frames, walls, and white tile.

You two reach a doorway, next to one of the hinges was a sign that clearly said, Psychiatric Ward. Well, I guess that explains the neurotics part.

In an attempt to swallow down some of the fear in your throat, you tighten your grip on Jimin’s hand while opting to slither your remaining hand around his bicep.

He takes notice of your actions that were propelled by your increasing fear, and naturally, he can’t help but feel bad, “Hey, you know I’d never let anything happen to you.” He tells you, shaking you out of your slight daze, “You can hold onto me the whole time and stick your head in my shoulder just like you did years ago, I won’t mind,” he teases while booping your nose.

“Alright, let’s just get this over with, please.” You huff out, determined to somehow put on maybe not a brave, but a braver face than what he expects from you.

You manage to fail in a whopping, record-breaking, ten seconds of going inside.

The first jumpscare was so entirely predictable—the thunderous pounds against the wall, the trudging and supposedly neurotic clowns (although clowns are already neurotic enough as they are) had all built up suspense until a head of a clown had shot up from around the corner. Their usual clown features distorted with gashes in their skin and blood dribbling out of the corners of their mouth, clothes ripped and stained. Your entire body violently spasms, a shrill shriek, and an embarrassingly long string of curses leave your lips in a matter of mere seconds.

You don’t even notice the man you’re holding onto folding over in laughter because the clown is still very much still following you even after you turn the corner, but before you can recalibrate and trek forward another clown materializes just sparse inches at your side. Your entire body forcefully jerks back, knocking into Jimin, but the force doesn’t phase him in the slightest as he swiftly brings his arms around your frame to prevent you from falling back.

Next to you, the man’s laughter hasn’t ceased a bit the entire time, and as you quickly dash forward and away from the clowns that you oh-so-wanted to knock a tooth out of, while clinging onto his side, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “Hanging in there?”

“I think I’m gonna murder you before I murder any of these clowns.”

“Noted!” he chimes while playfully bumping his head into yours.

As you two turn another corner, the sight of more clowns banging against vacant windows on either side of you has you wincing, and you could swear you could feel your left eye start to involuntarily twitch. You come to the indubitable realization that amidst dozens of clowns, you are evidently the biggest one here.

The sounds that blaringly elicit from your lips are the nearing equivalent to keyboard smashes with a variety of curse words in between. In short, if you had a swear jar, you’d be practically penniless at this point.

The clowns are quick to take note of your cowardly conduct, using it to their advantage and targeting you specifically—reaching and intruding so eerily close that you’re almost convinced that they’re actually touching you. You cower in their presence, squirming and sinking deeper and deeper into Jimin’s hold as you make your way down the path.

Beads of cold sweat began to assert their own path down your forehead—heart ricocheting against the walls of your chest, straining the cords of your throat because of your never-ending shouts and shrieks of terror upon terror. Your whole body was convulsing and shivering without fault, even when accompanied by the body heat of the man next to you, the harsh lighting of the overhead lights, and the lack of ventilation in this shoddy tent proved to be no match against your bodily functions that were going completely haywire. If you were an Amazon package, you would have a large ‘Caution: Handle With Care’ sign slapped right onto the box.

The pea-sized amount of pride that remains within you is the only thing stopping you from completely losing your shit.

Jimin's laughter—airy and unwavering, tickling the shell of your ear was the only thing keeping you grounded, serving as a constant reminder that at the very least when you might have lost all your pride and composure, you still had him by your side.

Without much forethought, he continues to lay kisses along your temple, clutching you close to his chest and keeping you upright as your knees constantly buckled under the weight of your looming fear, crumbling composure, and the grisly clowns that were most definitely preying on your downfall.

The ten-minute duration—which to you, had felt like a whole lifetime-and-a-half had finally come to a close. Once you were able to discern what you thought was the exit of the tent—the small opening leading to what had looked like signs of civilization, you booked it without hesitation, hastily tugging Jimin with you to the point where he nearly tramples over his own feet and crashes to the floor due to the sheer and sudden force.

You two finally pass through the exit. Feeling as if you had just ran a timed mile in five minutes, your body caves immediately—hunching over, briskly bringing your hands to your knees to support your deteriorating physiological state. The sound of your heavy breathing gets disrupted by Jimin’s laughter. You stand up, straightening yourself out when you realize that other people were starting to make their way towards the exit too, and you two were clearly blocking the way out.

Jimin takes you by the wrist and swiftly pulls you aside as more people start to trickle out of the tent. You two lean against the metal fence, comfortably silent as he lets you catch your breath.

You huff out, taking deep exhales as you speak, "Holy fuck, what even was that?"

"The funniest thing I have ever seen," he shoots back with a smile, slightly breathless as well.

You blink rapidly, body slumping against the fence, still completely cynical and disbelieving in what you had experienced. Biting the inside of your cheek so hard you're pretty sure you left teeth marks, you wipe your sweat with the hem of your sleeve.

"You okay?" he asks softly, closing the gap in between the two of you.

You nod, affirming your composure in hopes that it would solidify it for real. Giving him a smile to ease the nerves you knew he had, you visibly saw his smile widen, and with that, you ruffle his hair, take his hand into your own, and walk a few steps forward before announcing brazenly into the chilly autumn wind,

"Drop zone time."

"Y/N PLEASE—!"

-

"Don't do this, anything else but this please." He pleads, lips jutting out while childishly tugging on your sleeve.

You groan, "Bub, we had a deal."

He presses his lip together, "I know... but just look at that! How does that even look remotely safe enough for one to ride?" He tries to reason with you, staring up at the attraction that he believes should not even be labeled as an 'attraction' in the first place.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head, "If it was that much of a safety hazard, it wouldn't even exist Chim."

"I will never understand why people ride this out of enjoyment and pleasure. This is insane," he says, his eyes trailing to the long line of people behind the two of you.

"It's three seconds, I swear. Three seconds compared to my ten minutes of cussing and wanting to punch a clown in the face is very reasonable in my opinion. You’ll be just fine, I’ll hold your hand the whole time," you add on.

He quietly freezes in place—eyes fixated on the tower, hands leaving the fabric of your sweater. You feel his warm hand come in contact with yours, the back of his hand grazing your knuckles. Lacing your fingers in between his, he meets your eyes, giving you a timid, lopsided grin. A silent affirmation that had said more than words could’ve. I trust you but I’m still scared shitless.

“You guys are next,” the worker announces, opening the gate and gesturing you two to come inside. Jimin’s smile dissipates, face contorting into a look of mortification at the man’s words—eyes widening to the size of what would be considered as utter shock and lips curling into a form of disgust.

Tugging lightly at his hand, he whips his head towards you, waiting to speak until you two have passed the gate, “Y/N, I’m literally gonna piss my pants like I’m not even joking.”

“Jimin!” you say in a hushed yell, “Please don’t, I know your pride is too precious to you for you to annihilate it by pissing on a ride that even kids go on.”

He scoffs, “Okay fine… but we’re getting churros after this.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, smiling at his tone, “Why would I argue against churros?”

“Hello, miss? Come this way, please,” another worker greets, leading the two of you to two vacant spots of the ride where you presume were going to be yours.

You nod, making your way towards the two seats, hearing Jimin splutter incoherent words and sounds from behind your shoulder.

He immediately plops into the innermost spot, refusing to be on the outermost seat that only had one accompanying seat on one side, albeit it truly didn’t matter. And of course, you don’t tell him that.

Smiling at his overt signs of apprehension, you slide into the spot next to him, beginning to put on the seatbelt over your lap.

Drumming his fingers on his knees, he already has his seatbelt buckled and his over-the-shoulder restraints locked and secured into place.

“Ugh, can these things go any tighter! I can still move under here,” he tuts, vigorously trying to push the restraints closer to his body, yet his attempts are proven to be in vain.

“Bub, they still want you to be able to breathe,” you remind him with a small giggle, your head popping out of the U-shaped bar to look over at him—his brows knit in concentration, nose scrunched, lips tucked into his mouth.

In a final attempt, you hear the man beside you take a sharp and deep inhale, only to hear a tiny click emit from the restraint shortly afterward.

He releases his bated breath, only to come to the realization that he can’t extend his stomach all the way forward, the bar forcing it to come short. He splutters, bringing his hand to cover his face while he coughs only to realize that his arm can’t fully reach around the bar to meet his face.

You watch this entire scene unfold out in front of you—wishing you could do something to help the poor guy, but you already knew your attempts would be pointless in the end as your arms are physically incapable of extending that far. You sink back into your seat to make sure he doesn’t see the fact that you were trying so hard not to laugh.

“Jimin, deep breaths, in and out,” you instruct him as the worker starts to make their rounds around the ride, double-checking for seatbelts and secured restraints.

“Y/N, that’s the problem, I can’t.”

“Try scooting back into your seat,” the worker suggests to Jimin, giving him an empathetic smile.

“What do you mean–oh, erm, thank you.”

She nods, shaking Jimin’s restraint a little more energetically to reassure the man of his safety.

As she leaves, he says to you, “Y/N, I can’t believe you convinced me to go on this.”

“Me too, honestly. I’m really proud of you Chim.” You admit, reaching out a hand towards him in which he takes.

“Three seconds, right?” He reiterates.

“Give or take, yeah.”

“Y/N—!”

Your seats suddenly clatter, signaling the start of your long ascent. Jimin’s grip on your hand tightens substantially, causing you to groan out in pain.

He quickly takes note of the noise, loosening his grip ever so slightly, “Oh my god, sor- oh fucking hell, there’s no going back now?!”

You chomp down on your bottom lip before another sound could escape your mouth—his grip on your hand tightening the higher you two go, “No, no you’re fine, it’s okay..”

“HOLY SHIT WHY ARE WE ALREADY THIS HIGH UP?!” He yelps, kicking his feet against the air—people’s heads starting to look as small as ants, the rest of the park coming into view as if you were experiencing it from a drone’s point of view.

“Dumbass, don’t look down!”

“It’s too late–what the hell, why can I see the whole damn city from here?!” He sticks his head out of his restraint, looking up and trying to find the top, “wHen the FUCK does this shit stop please, Y/N, I cAn’T do this?!?!”

“Chim. Breathe. Deep, steady breaths, okay?” You say while audibly taking breaths so he can do the same.

“Okay, okay,” he says, voice cracking but following suit.

After you think that he finally manages to get a grip on himself, you decide to try to take his mind off the situation at hand, “Jimin, look at the view.”

His breath softens as he begins to take in his surroundings. He could see everything. To him, it feels as if he had the city in the palm of his hand. The rollercoasters that reside next to the tower were practically reaching eye-level to him, and despite the lack of color due to the theme of the park, he thought it was mesmerizing anyway. He marvels at the fact that he could even see past the park—catching a glimpse of the cars zooming on the main highway, minute specks of light emitting from the windows of skyscrapers, people living in their own little worlds in each one, And of course, the envy of it all, the night sky—the dark depth littered with a multitude of stars in their own little patterns and worlds of their own as well.

The overhead speakers trumpet, ripping Jimin out of his trance-like state, “Welcome to the drop zone brave newcomers. I hope you’ve had an enjoyable trip on the way up here. And I hope that your descent is just as enjoyable as well. We will be dropping in... “

Jimin heaves out, “Now that’s just plain rude at this point.”

“Ten.”

“Are you okay?”

He scoffs. “What kind of question is that Y/N?!”

“Nine.”

“Jimin, you’ll be just fine,” You reassure for the umpteenth time.

“I swear if this is longer than three seconds–”

“Eight.”

He frantically kicks the air. “Fucking hell! I can’t believe I’m doing this right now, I miss the ground.”

“Seven.”

“We’ll be back down to earth sooner than you think, I’m telling you.”

“Six.”

“Oh my fucking god, oh my fuck–!”

“Five.”

“Oh fuck, holy shit–!”

“Jimin, I’ll be right beside you–”

“Four.”

“–the whole way.”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD?!”

“Thre–!”

Before the countdown can finish, you two plummet, plunging down at great speeds—a feral-sounding squawk leaving Jimin’s lips when it all happens.

He squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to see what was going on—letting go of your hand, he opts to hold onto the other handlebar on the restraint instead. His breath is caught in his throat, the ride is moving so fast that he can’t even produce any noise, let alone move his body.

Just like you have been saying this whole night, the ride ends in a blink of an eye. Or more specifically, three seconds, give or take.

Jimin slumps in his seat—fingers still curled so tightly around the handlebars that his knuckles turn pale.

You stick your head out of your restraint, craning your neck to look at him beside you, “Jimin, it’s done, it’s over.”

“Are you sure?” He mumbles.

“Open your eyes.”

His head slowly rises, eyes remaining shut. Cracking one eye slightly open, he loosens his grip on the handlebars before opening his eyes and letting out a deep sigh of relief.

"That wasn't so bad, right?" You beam, waiting for the restraints to be lifted.

"I wouldn't know, I had my eyes closed the whole time," he shyly admits, lifting the restraint off of him and unbuckling his seatbelt.

You two jump out of your seats, heading towards the gate and bidding the drop tower goodbye, juxtaposing afterthoughts lingering in the air.

"That felt so weird, I don't know if I wasn't able to move or if there wasn't enough time for me to react," he chuckles dryly while twining his hand with yours once again.

You smile, "Probably a little bit of both," you suggest, eyes scanning the park for any signs of a churro stand, "but hey, you survived!"

He smiles at that, teeth out and all, "We both did," he assures earnestly, "and now as an incentive, we are getting churros."

Your eyes light up—the sight of the bright neon sign being the next destination of the night. Jimin notices your sudden reaction, quickly looking in the same direction as you and pinpointing the small churro stand from afar.

To your luck, the line isn't very long—people are most likely preoccupied with the multitude of attractions that are only going to be available for this appropriate time of the year, taking advantage of the opportunity before having to wait for an entire year before getting to experience it all over again. But you and Jimin weren't like most people, and you two strongly believed that churros should be indulged in at any time during any situation. And right now, it was being utilized as a form of consolation, just in the shape of a deep-fried pastry sprinkled with cinnamon sugar.

After obtaining your consolation desserts, you two resume your journey around the park. Too preoccupied indulging in your churro, you’re temporarily able to block out the commotion that was occurring around you, keeping four out of five senses focused on said churro and churro only. 

“You feel better?” You ask, taking a brief moment to dust off all the cinnamon and sugar off the corners of your mouth. 

“Mmhmph,” he incoherently mumbles, after shoving half a churro into his mouth. He abruptly pauses, cheeks puffed up and eyes wide, realizing he can’t talk and instead he nods with a grin as wide as his mouth would allow him to stretch out. 

You giggle at his actions, taking your focus off of him to take another bite. 

A few moments later, when most of your churros noticeably nowhere to be seen, you ask, “Where should we go next?”

He cinches his brows together, “We probably shouldn’t go on anything to extreme, considering we just ate. How about the ferris wheel?” He suggests, pointing to the attraction that was standing in front of the two of you. 

You nod, “You’re right, these workers already go through enough. And we shouldn’t add cleaning vomit to the list.”

He chuckles, “Agreed. Let’s go, the line is pretty short!” He exclaims jubilantly, flashing you a mega-watt grin while pulling you along with him towards the gated entrance. 

Leaning against the gate, you two wait for the round of riders that were currently riding to finish, mindlessly scrolling on your phones to pass the time. 

The gate entrance opens, tearing your focus off of your phone and back to reality. The enormous and dazzling neon wheel that stood boldly enveloped your vision in replacement of your dim and dark-mode setted phone screen, making you blink a few times to adjust to its harsh hues. 

One of the carts comes to a halt, doors releasing as the group of friends inside it begin to grab their belongings and head out. The worker in charge motions you to step inside after they leave, the two of you following suit. When you two become situated and seated, they press a few buttons on their control panel, the doors promptly swinging close. A few brief seconds after, the cart jolts before moving just enough so the other people behind you could board onto the next cart.

The carts reminded you of the teacup ride at Disneyland—built in a circular shape, seats lined around the border with a small gap made for the entrance door, but of course, it was void of steering wheels in the middle. Now that would just be a recipe for disaster, and a solid segue into Jimin vomiting all over you.

He nudges your leg, “It’s so funny to me.”

You turn to him, “What is?”

“Out of all things to do while being here, and we’re riding the ferris wheel,” he beams, a light chuckle leaving his lips, “I don’t know whether to pity us or not.”

“All my pride has left me already and I’m okay with it,” you tut, lips unwillingly curling upward as you replayed the scenes of what had happened earlier at the drop zone, “I wouldn’t talk too much if I were you Mr. ‘I’m gonna piss my pants.” You tease, poking him in the side.

He scoffs, squirming slightly where you poked him, “I am still proud of myself, I didn’t think I was gonna make it up there.”

You turn away, holding in your laughter, “I didn’t think you were either.”

“Hey! Don’t even get me started on you,” he says, nose scrunching and brows furrowing, “those poor clowns were about to get their noses punched in if it wasn’t for me being there. I think your screams and threats were starting to scare them more than they were scaring me.” He fires back, giggles erupting in his throat and interrupting his words.

“I’m not even gonna argue against that. We are so sad,” you say—laughter flaring up in your chest as well, the two of you keeling over so hard the cart begins to swing back and forth.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Easy there,” Jimin yelps as you two take notice of the movement and immediately cease your actions, hands grabbing the ends of the cart to try to stabilize it. 

Just as your cart has moved up enough for you to start seeing an overhead view of the park, he whips his phone out before saying, “Lemme take a picture of you, the view is so nice here.”

As he whips out his phone, you scoot to the other end of the cart as he brings his phone up to his face and focuses it on you. Naturally, you bring your hand up, hand changing to a trademark peace sign as you flashed a smile for the camera. He brings his phone down many lock screen worthy pictures later, happy with the result evident from the grin etched onto his face. 

“Your turn,” you say, motioning you two switch spots as you take your phone out of your pocket. 

Jimin, infuriatingly photogenic, simply sits while staring off into the distance, jaw on full display as you begin to rapidly snap pictures. Hearing your camera clicks he changes his position—turning towards you as the chilly wind blows through his hair, eyes crinkling and dazzling smile on full display that you can’t help but smile at the familiar yet all too breathtaking sight. 

Placing your phone in your lap, you scoot closer to him—leaning your back against his shoulder, you prop your legs up onto the seats. Turning towards you, he snakes his arms around your waist as his chest comes in contact with your back. You let yourself sink deeper into his grasp, conforming into his body as warmth spreads to your fingertips. Your head lulls back, falling into the space right below his collarbones as you stroke the back of his hands gingerly with the pad of your thumbs. He rests his chin on top of your head, the two of you simply admiring the view below. 

The ride still hasn’t started—people still boarding the ride as the carts momentarily halt and move from time to time. 

Not long after, your cart reaches the very top. 

Head peering over the edge, he turns back, “See, why did we have to go on the drop tower when we could’ve went here instead,” he grumbles, the peak of the tower standing nearly just as tall as the highest point of the ferris wheel to the point where you could stare directly ahead of you without tilting your head.

“Well that takes all the fun out of it,” you tease, making him frown, “Hey! You keep forgetting what you made me go through before that. Don’t think I’ve gotten over it that quickly.”

Looking displeased at your answer, he quirks a brow, “You seemed to be fine when we were riding the tower.”

“What can I say, you make a very good distraction.”

“I think I could say the same for you,” he proposes, “I swear I saw some of those clowns turn away and start laughing every time you threatened them. I was like ‘Yes! That’s my feisty girlfriend!” he cheers, pumping his fists into the air. You cower down in embarrassment, grinning to yourself while trying to swat his arm away. 

“I feel so burned out already though,” you say, head falling back into his chest, “I think it’s ‘cause we’re here at night.” 

“And because you track-starred your way through that entire maze,” he adds.

“That too.”

“I feel it too, we did more walking than anything else to be honest.” He says, which is very much true. The drop tower was all the way on the other side of the park and the churro stand took you guys a whole twenty minutes just to find. 

You hum, “Should we head out after this then?”

He rests his cheek on top of your head, “Yeah, if you want to.”

“I feel bad though, it feels like we just got here,” you admit, chuckling into his arm. 

He shakes his head, hands reaching over to play with the ends of your hair, “Don’t feel bad, I think we’re still hungover because of midterms. And besides, I’m hungry and I don’t wanna eat a ten dollar hotdog after just eating a stale ten dollar churro.”

“Yeah, we can just eat one dollar ramen, we’re still college students above everything.”

And you truly couldn’t argue with that. “Of course.”

Taking your hands off of his, you prop a hand onto the cart to sit yourself up onto the seats. He releases his hold on you, his arms returning back to his sides as the warmth of your body dissipates to his dismay. 

You adjust your sitting position so you could face him—reaching out to take one of his hands into your own. Your eyes bore into his, gazing into the pools of honey that were his irises. The view is slightly obscured as his eyes crinkle.

He smiles, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You don’t even register that he’s speaking to you until he leans in slightly, his features starting to appear bigger as he starts to close the gap between you two. You shake your head once he gets so close in proximity that you could see each crinkle that etches themself on the sides of his eyes each time he grins. 

Your eyes flicker to his lips, taking notice of the action as you quickly revert back to his eyes. He smirks

“Thank you for taking me here,” you say as your eyes intently gaze into his once more, “above all the trepidation we’ve put each other through tonight, at least we’re here together.”

He nods, gratitude evident without him having to utter a single word. It’s as if time is frozen, everything around you stagnant and still, eyes boring into each other because nothing could just quite compare to this. Not even the surreal view of the city or the ability to see all the bustle within the amusement park or even the stars that littered the sky. 

You press your lips against his. Although you initiated the action, the sensation of his lips against yours, regardless of how natural, sends a flurry of shockwaves down your spine. Your body tingles—as if you’re floating and the cart you were sitting on wasn’t even there to support you. 

And he kisses you back. His lips are warm, welcoming, and comforting—like wrapping yourself in your favorite blanket in the comforts of your bed, the indescribable bliss as the fabric consumes your body and runs over your skin. 

Kissing him felt even more blissful than that.

The kiss isn’t fervent, but it’s full of longing. It’s as if he’s communicating to you, through the way his lips mesh against yours, that he plans on making up for all the lost time. Time that could’ve been spent doing things like kissing you, loving you wholeheartedly and unashamedly, was spent pining for each other with the label of being ‘best friends’ standing in the way for far too long. He wants to make up for it just as much as you do. 

He slides his hand under the crevice of your knee, pulling you closer to him as he continues to kiss you. You bring your hand up to his neck, entangling your fingers into his hair as you lightly scratched at the surface of his scalp. 

He kisses you like he’ll never get to again, which isn’t completely false—the fact that you two were so high up in the air to the point where the stars look tangible, basking in each other’s presence and each other’s presence only. 

Frustrated at the abnormal layout of the seating, he hooks his arms under your legs—hoisting you up and placing you in his lap so you were straddling him—incognizant of how the cart was starting to dip due to the unequal distribution of weight. 

The gesture makes you squeak, and you can start to feel him smile against your lips. Before you could do anything else, the cart totters—rocking a few times before moving, signaling that the ferris wheel is finally beginning its journey. 

“Oh fuck—!”

“Oh shit—!”

The two of you immediately detach from each other as you take notice of the unbalance, hurriedly leaping onto opposite sides of the cart while gripping onto the sides for dear life, the cart rocking back and forth at a concerning extent. You sneak glances at each other, your faces painted with the same expression of shock and distress.  

Seconds pass and the cart steadies—laughter instantaneously taking over the two of you.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” he says, a little breathless while his body hunched over his seat.

“Remind me the next time we kiss to check if we’re less than a foot above the ground first,” you tease, playfully swatting his knee.

He grabs your hand, pressing a kiss onto your knuckles before shaking your intertwined hands up in the air—obnoxiously shouting into the frigid autumn wind, “Yes chief!” 

-

-

-

MASTERLIST

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Take Care (Ethan x MC)

Summary: Set sometime between chapter 18, Ethan forces Naomi to take a break.

A/N: Okay the other day when I posted that i was writing tooth rotting fluff, this isn’t what I had in mind. That story will come later this week.

~v~

“How long have you been here?”

The question startles Naomi awake, Ethan’s stern voice cutting through the hazy cloud of sleepiness invading all of her senses.

If she didn’t have his handsome features committed to memory already, she might not have been able to make him out, her vision getting blurrier and blurrier as time ticks on.

“What?”

“How long have you been here?” Ethan asks again. “When was the last time you stepped out of Edenbrook?”

It’s a valid question, one Naomi hasn’t given any thought to. “What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

“I’ve been here since Saturday night,” Naomi confesses. Saying it out loud is slightly sobering. The past few weeks have flown by in a blur so unlike anything she’s ever experienced before. But with the hospital closing down soon, there’s no time to waste these days. The people of Boston will be down a hospital, and they still need help.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Christ, Naomi.” Yes the hospital is shutting down, but he’s sure there are countless laws she’s violated in the meantime, as no one is supposed to be at the hospital for triple digit hours at a time.

“What? You’re the one who said we should spend our time helping as many people as we can.”

Leave it to her to throw his words back in his face. She’s gotten increasingly better at it, and he’s not a fan. 

“Okay, but I didn’t say you had to move in to do so. And you’re always saying I don’t have a work-life balance.”

Naomi’s arms extend and she gestures widely to the bench she’s sitting on in front of the cafeteria. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“On the verge of collapsing,” Ethan quips.

“I’m sitting,” Naomi argues. “I’m taking a break.”

“Are you currently with a patient?”

“No.”

“Good.” Ethan extends his hand for Naomi to take. After a beat of hesitation, she accepts. He lifts her out of her seat with a swift tug. “You’re coming home with me.”

“But–”

“It wasn’t a question,” Ethan deadpans. “It was an order.”

Naomi plants her feet on the ground, willing herself to not move. It’s a futile attempt because she’s too exhausted and weak to actually have the amount of strength it’d take to battle Ethan on this, but he respects her stubbornness and doesn’t carry her out. “Ethan, I’ll take a nap in an on-call room for an hour, I don’t need to leave.”

“Rookie, you’re clocking out for the evening,” Ethan says, his tone letting it be known that it isn’t up for debate.

“I’m back to ‘rookie’ now?”

“Yes, because you’re being petulant, and you’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not my direct superior anymore, Mister ‘We-Don’t-Need-a-Diagnostics-Team’.”

“I’m still your attending, you still have to listen to me. And I say you’re done for the day.” Not giving her the chance to respond, Ethan wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close. She’s dead weight in his arms and he has to all but drag her to the locker room to retrieve her personal belongings.

Urge car ride to his apartment is silent, save for very idle chit chat. Naomi is too tired to speak, and she won’t admit it due to pure pride and stubbornness, but sitting in Ethan passenger seat on the way to his place is the most peace and quiet she’s had in a long time, not to mention the longest she’s sat still in days. Forever the know-it-all, Ethan picks up on her need for silence and solitude, and doesn’t say too much outside of asking her what she wants for dinner. They decide on a pizza, compromising on garlic chicken.

As soon as they step foot into the apartment, Naomi is assaulted by an overzealous golden retriever. He barks excitedly at her, clawing and licking at her scrub pants as a greeting. Jenner has grown used to her presence, the rare occasions she does actually leave Edenbrook are spent here, curled up with the large dog on the days he’s not in Providence with Alan.

“How’s my favorite boy?” Naomi asks, scratching behind Jenner’s ear. Jenner barks in reply, his tongue falling out of his mouth and lolling to the side as she makes himself comfortable under her touch. 

After a few more scritches and whispered affirmations, Naomi forces herself away from the day, though she could easily spend all night with him in the entryway. She kicks off her shoes at the door and drops her purse there as well.

“Do you want to eat first?” Ethan asks.

The pizza did tempt her the entire drive here, but she desperately wants to take a shower. Maybe she’s losing it at this point, but she can still feel Edenbrook on her skin, and smell the sterilizing disinfectant the cleaning crew uses.

“I need a shower,” Naomi replies definitively, though she makes no effort to move. “Besides, scarfing down cold pizza is always a good idea.”

“Alright.”

Ethan takes her hand and leads her through his apartment, making sure she doesn’t bump into anything on their way to his en-suite

He turns on the water for her, the large waterfall shower steaming the glass planes almost instantly.

“Want some company?” Ethan asks.

“That sounds nice.”

Because she’s literally a zombie, Ethan helps Naomi out of her clothing, delicately peeling the baby blue scrubs off of her body and leaving a pile of discarded clothing on the floor. He follows, removing his own clothing with less care than he did hers, before walking them both into the shower.

For a long time neither of them do anything, Naomi too caught up in the heat of the water and Ethan’s amazing water pressure, and Ethan too enthralled in watching her.

Her skill is slightly pale, evidence that she probably hasn’t had proper sleep or food in Lord only knows how long, and he hasn’t seen dark circles under her eyes like this in months, since the night of the...incident as he’s decided to call it. She’s exhausted, it’s clear in the labored breaths that she takes, and Ethan is still sure without a shadow of a doubt that she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Unable to stop himself, his hand gently cups the back of her neck, tilting her head back so he can kiss her again. It’s soft and unhurried as if they have all the time in the world to do this.

The kiss turns more urgent as some of the fog clears from Naomi’s brain. Standing on the tips of her toes, she wraps her arms around of Ethan’s neck holding him close, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Ethan is rewarded with a tiny moan from his girlfriend, a moan that he swallows with the kiss before it dissolves into a low grumble in the back of her throat.

“I missed that,” Naomi admits as Ethan breaks the kiss. 

“What? Kissing me?”

She hums in confirmation and leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss onto his chest. “I can’t even remember the last time I kissed you. The only recent memories I have involve me at Edenbrook, diagnosing patients.”

She’s right. Their only focus has been work, work, work, and Ethan can’t remember the last kiss either.

His thoughts are broken up by Naomi, her hands roaming aimlessly along his arms and shoulders. Her exploration goes further south until her nails are raking along his stomach. “When was the last time I touched you?” She asks quietly, her eyes boring into his. “When was the last time I saw you naked?”

A measured exhale escapes Ethan’s nostrils as her hands venture dangerously lower, slightly grazing his pelvis. If neither of them can recall their last kiss, trying to remember the last time they had sex would be a moot point. The nights they leave Edenbrook are spent collapsing in his bed as soon as they can, drifting into unconsciousness almost immediately. “I don’t know.”

“God, have we become old and boring already?”

“We’re just tired and overworked,” Ethan says. “It’ll pass soon.”

The words unspoken hang in the air, just as thick and heavy as the steam surrounding them. Soon they’ll have plenty of time to get back into the normal aspects of their relationship only because they’ll both be unemployed. Edenbrook will be gone before they know it.

Not wanting to dwell on that, Ethan shakes his head as if he will away the cynical thoughts. Instead, he grabs Naomi’s hands, holding them tight to his chest. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“Really? Something begs to differ.” With a raised eyebrow, Naomi looks down curiously at the evidence of Ethan’s arousal, comfortable nestled between the two of them. Before she can reach down and touch him, Ethan shakes his head.

“I have the most beautiful woman, naked and wet in front of me. This was inevitable, but it’ll go away.”

“I can make it go away.”

“Mhmm-hmmm. Turn around, Valentine.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ethan rolls his eyes. How this woman always finds the space and opportunity to flirt with him is a mystery. Lining the walls of his shower are all of Naomi’s bath and shower products. He’s always making fun of her for being a product hoarder, though she insists everything is different—he’s been schooled on the differences between regular, leave-in, and deep conditioner, creams vs gels, body scrubs and shower gels many times and he still doesn’t see a need for it all. 

Grabbing her favorite shampoo, Ethan pours a generous amount into the palm of her hand before gently running it through her strands of hair. He’s seen her wash her hair enough times to know the bare bones of her routine. Very careful of her curls, he makes sure to not roughly drag his fingers through her hair and risk creating a tangled disaster for her to handle later on.

Her head tips back. “Can I pay you to wash my hair from now on? I never want to go back to doing it myself.”

A swell of pride forms in his chest at the compliment. “No payment needed.”

Once he’s finished washing her hair and he’s coated it in conditioner —she insists on leave-in, as she doesn’t have the energy to put my more effort into her hair for the evening—Ethan lathers her in one of her shower gels, whichever one makes her smell like jasmine.

He moves slower as he does this, pressing his thumb into the base of her neck, massaging away some of the stress she’s carrying. His hands dig into her shoulders, between her shoulder blades, and her lower back, loosening the muscles as he goes.

Naomi doesn’t attempt to stop the moans fighting to spill from her mouth, no matter how obscene they sound. The relief that bloods her body is instant, his touch working out knots she wasn’t even aware of.

“You’re a great doctor, you cook, and you're an excellent masseuse?” Naomi sighs in content. “What can’t you do?”

“I told you I make it my mission to be good at everything.”

“I’m going to find your weakness one day, Ramsey.”

She’s his weakness, his Achilles heel, and Ethan can’t believe she doesn’t know it already. There’s no end of the earth he wouldn’t go to for her, no hoop he wouldn’t jump through, his feelings for her his fateful flaw and his greatest strength all in one.

He kisses her again, this time on the side of her neck. His breath fans her, heating the sensitive skin as he leans closer. “Good luck.”

He continues the massage in silence, careful to keep his touch away from places that would no doubt cause this to spiral into shower sex. And as lovely as that sounds, it’s not what Naomi needs, so he’s willing to forego his baser urges. Every once in a while she makes a comment about how amazing his hands are, but for the most part she’s blissfully silent.

He doesn’t stop with the massage until he’s absolutely sure she’s putty in his hands and all of the knots and spots of tension are gone. Even afterwards, they stay in the shower, his arm splayed across her midsection, his chin resting on top of her head.

“I don’t want to move,” Naomi says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m too comfortable right here. Can we just stay?”

Ethan chuckles softly to himself. “We can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Well, the steam in here might actually suffocate us if we stay in here any longer,” Ethan starts. “And I’m not a fan of wasting water.”

“It’s not a waste if I’m enjoying it.”

“Touché. Not to mention your skin will get very dry, and you’ll be much more comfortable in my bed.”

“Okay, I guess you’ve made some valid points. We can leave now.”

She doesn’t make any effort to move, and Ethan quickly realizes he’s going to have to do all the work to get her out of here. He turns off the shower and opens the door, quickly inhaling. He didn’t realize how much he needed air until he was no longer in that glass box of steam.

He grabs two large bath towels off of the rack and dries them off. Naomi searches his countertop, now covered in her makeup and hair products until she finds a satin scrunchie to tie up her still damp hair.

They both meander back into Ethan’s bedroom, and Naomi searches through one of his spare drawers for something to wear. It’s full of her clothes, and a few items of his that she’s stolen over the past few months; a t-shirt here, a pair of socks there.

Once she’s bundled up in some of the warmest clothes she can find, Ethan ushers her into bed.  “Are you ready for your pizza now?”

A stubborn yawn manages to slip out as she shakes her head. “No. I’ll get some before I head to work in the morning.”

“You’re not going to work tomorrow,” Ethan says.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re taking a much needed break tomorrow,” he continues. “I admire your tenacity, but I’m not going to let you work yourself to the bone and neglect your own needs in your very noble quest to help everyone in Boston. You won’t do Edenbrook any good if you collapse due to exhaustion.”

“But I–”

“I’m not asking you, Naomi, I’m telling you.” Despite his tone, a pleasant shiver runs down the length of her spine. “You’re staying here with me.”

She almost always has the upper hand in their arguments or debates, but Naomi can tell there’s no room for her to argue with him on this one. He won’t let her win.

“Okay,” she concedes. “No work tomorrow.”

Smug that he’s won this round, Ethan triumphantly slides into bed, wrapping an arm around Naomi, keeping her trapped with him. Unlike her, he didn’t put on any clothes, only a pair of boxers, but now Naomi is able to revel in his natural body heat.

He runs a thumb along her cheek, caressing her softly before kissing her forehead. “I am incredibly proud of you.”

“Really?”

“You’re an excellent doctor, and trust me when I say you’ve done more for this community that I’ll ever be able to put into words. And despite the hospital closing soon, I hope you realize the impact you’ve made in your two years here.”

Naomi nods, her throat getting thick with emotion. She’ll never be used to Ethan complimenting her like this. “I wish I could do more.”

“We all do. But at the end of the day, you’re still a human and you can only do so much.” Ethan’s hand moves from her face to her neck, his thumb tracing a pattern along her pulse. “I don’t want you to crash and burn, and best yourself up over something so completely out of your control.”

“Who are you and what have you done to Ethan Ramsey?” Naomi teases. She never thought she’d live to see a day where he’s scolding her for working too much and trying too hard.

“I’ve done a lot of reflecting recently, mostly due to you. If there’s any lesson you’ve taught me, it’s that there’s only so much I’m in control of.”

“Any other lessons or tokens of wisdom I’ve imparted on you.”

“You’ve taught me how to be more patient than I knew was possible,” Ethan replies. Naomi rolls her eyes at the slight teasing. “You’ve taught me how to see the world’s grey area. You taught me the true meaning of trust and forgiveness. You’ve shown me endless compassion and empathy, none that I’ll ever be able to repay in this lifetime or the next. I was your attending, your mentor, but trust me when I say you’ve taught me more than I could ever teach you, about medicine and life in general. So thank you.”

Maybe it’s the pure exhaustion or his really sweet words, but her eyes become wide and glossy with unshed tears. She blinks them away, not wanting to cry.

Instead she leans forward and pulls him into another kiss. She doesn’t know if she can convey the full extent of her love and adoration for him with a simple kiss, but Naomi’s never been the type to not try. When she pulls back, she rests her head against his chest, settling in comfortably.

“Thank you. For the kind words, and for taking care of me tonight. I’ve never had someone be as thoughtful as you.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” Ethan promises. He’ll give her the world if he can. “You just have to stop being so stubborn and let me do it.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying.”

“Now get some sleep,” Ethan commands. “Tomorrow, I’ll actually cook you a real meal. Not any of the garbage they serve at the hospital, and no more takeout, but–”

He stops short when he hears a soft snore fill the room. Looking down he sees that Naomi has managed to doze off in the mere seconds he was talking.

He’s never been so happy to watch someone sleep, as no one deserves it more than she does. He plants one final kiss on the crown of her head. “Goodnight, Naomi.”

~v~

Tags: @professorkingslay @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @aka-calliope @edgiestwinter @soft-for-drake @greenbean-kylie @akshara16 @bluebellot @honeyandsunfl0wers @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

[obsidiancreates]

Freezer Duty (Part One)

(This was going to be a one-shot but then it reached 4,000 words so now it’s split up)

----------------------------

Amy parks her car and lays her head on the steering wheel. "You can do this. Christmas shopping is already slowing down, you can do this."

She grabs her coffee thermos, a special blend Emma came up with just for the holiday rush days (it had made Amy almost cry with thankful joy, and had made Emma shrink into her sweater and mutter "Whatever," five times straight), and gets out of her car.

The parking lot is mostly empty. Either most of her coworkers took the bus, or Amy is one of the only people on time... again. Not that she blames anyone. The weather is so cold that getting out of bed feels like a death sentence.

As she walks to the doors, she glances at the other cars. Glenn, obviously. As long as she's been working there, he's always been early. Carol, too. Probably planning to mess with Sandra somehow, this kind of stuff is why corporate shouldn't have shut down the in-store HR department. And then...

Jonah's car? He's usually at least a couple of minutes later than her... weird.

She walks past, and pauses. Why are the inside lights on? That means it's unlocked, and she knows Jonah locks his car obsessively. She once saw him lock it five times through the doors of the store. 

Curiosity claims her, and she peeks inside. 

And drops her thermos.

“Oh my go- JONAH!”

The scream is loud enough to summon Glenn. “Amy, what is- AHHHH!” he holds his hands up to his head as he shrieks.

Jonah is laying inside his car, bleeding from the neck.

Amy yanks open the car door and shakes Jonah’s shoulders. “Jonah, Jonah wake up!” As she shakes and calls out, Glenn stands behind her with his hands clasped, frantically praying to both Jesus and the Jewish God in a highly confusing yet heartfelt prayer.

“Jonah!” Amy slaps him in the face in a moment of complete desperation.

Jonah startles awake and puts his hand up to his cheek. “O-ow! What was that for! And...” he looks behind Amy. “... Why is Glenn turning purple.”

“Wh- oh, my god, Glenn, take a breath. Okay, um, Jonah, are you alright?”

“I-I think so... why?”

“Well, because you’re sitting in your turned-off unlocked car, in the middle of winter, passed out with blood on your neck.”

“WHAT?!” Jonah feels his neck. “OH- oh, god this is- this is not good, how did-”

“Our insurance is so bad,” Glenn sobs, “You’re not gonna make it!”

“Glenn, don’t- okay, let’s get you inside and- you’re not still bleeding, right?”

“I don’t think so, but what does critical blood loss feel like? Like would I be able to tell? I need to Google this, just-”

“Yeah, you’re going to be okay. Okay, into the store, Glenn help us out.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ow.” Jonah winces and flinches away as Amy dabs his neck with a wipe. 

“Pretty dramatic start to the work day, gosh. I hope nothing else happens.” Glenn shakes his hands by his sides and looks around nervously. He leans in and whispers, “Do you think they’ll find another foot? Jonah, what sneakers do you wear?”

“Again, still have both off my feet.” Jonah winces again, and Amy sets down the towel. 

“Okay, it’s all clean, so now we can-”

“Hey guys! Whoa...” Cheyenne stops in her tracks as she enters the breakroom, spreading her arms and stopping everyone else from entering too. There’s an annoyed clamoring for a minute before Garrett just rolls in under her arm. Everyone stoops down to follow, except Marcus, who tries (and fails) to turn it into a game of Limbo.

Garrett looks at the bloody wipes on the table Jonah and Amy are at. “Whoa, dude, what the hell happened?”

Amy sighs. “Jonah was-”

“We found Jonah dying in his car!” Glenn exclaims.

“Not dying!” Jonah and Amy say quickly. 

“He was passed out and bleeding a little,” Amy says to cut any rumors off preemptively, moving the collar of his shirt to get a better look at the wounds.

“In your car? In the middle of winter?”

Glenn nods, his face screwed up with worry. “And no scarf!”

“Oh, you’re for sure gonna die,” Cheyenne says, Mateo nodding in agreement. “It’s like, super cold outside.”

“Honestly I didn’t even feel that cold,” Jonah says, putting his hands up. “I guess my car stayed warm. ... Some-somehow.”

“What were you even doing in there? Are you homeless again? You could always crash at my place. Unless the birds don’t like you, then you’re gone. Nothing personal.” Dina sips her coffee.

“Thank you, for that... generous offer, um, I don’t actually remember.”

Amy pauses her checking. “You don’t?”

“No, I um, I just remember realizing I forgot something and going back into the store to get it, and then coming out and everyone was gone. And then there’s just sort of, nothing. ... That-that actually is more worrying, now that I say it aloud, am-am I dying?”

“Your brain probably froze up and is just taking time to de-thaw,” Marcus says with a flippant gesture. “Happened to my cousin once when we ate too many beer-pops.”

“... Okay, then, what’s a- no, nevermind, I can just guess. I don’t actually think that’s how brain freezes work, but thanks, I think.” 

Marcus smiles and raises his hands in an attempt at a gracious gesture.

“So you don’t remember anything?” Amy asks, bringing the subject back to the alarming and somewhat urgent situation.

“Maybe someone came up behind him and hit him over the head. Blunt force trauma, put him back in his car to make it look like he froze to death, do you know of anyone who wants to kill you? Maybe a disgruntled ex-classmate, customer you bored out of their skull with a pointless story, maybe-”

“That- no. No, I don’t think anyone wants to kill me for telling an invigorating story. And I’d rather not think about that, actually.”

Dina shrugs. “You don’t want to solve the mystery, fine. But don’t blame me when someone you screwed over in a group project cuts off your junk.”

Jonah and Amy stare at Dina for a second, and then Amy shakes her head. “Anyway... I checked, and I don’t think he has anything wrong with his head. Just his neck.”

Mateo glances over, unperturbed but curious. His expression becomes horrified. “Oh, my god! There’s two giant holes in your neck!”

Jonah slaps his hand over the wounds. “WHAT?!”

“They are not giant holes!” Amy shouts as everyone starts chattering. “They’re tiny ones! And-and they’re more like cuts, anyway!”

“Maybe someone injected him with drugs.”

“Why would they do that, Dina?”

“Yeah, who wastes drugs like that?” Cheyenne looks around at everyone else, who have gone silent. “What?”

“And, wait, with two needles?” Garrett points to Jonah’s neck. 

“Maybe they missed a vein the first time.” Dina snorts like it’s an obvious conclusion.

Marcus snaps his fingers. “Maybe it’s some kind of new fancy needle.”

Dina shakes her head. “I keep up to date on drug needle trends. We find too many in the customer bathrooms for me to be out of the loop.”

Glenn startles slightly. “We do?”

“Guys!” Amy gestures at Jonah.

Everyone murmurs some form of “Right!” or “Sorry Jonah.”

“Really, I’m-I’m fine.” Jonah keeps a hand over the holes. “It’s just a little sore, and um, I don’t know, I guess I’m a little chilly and tired, but I’m generally okay.”

“Okay, great!” Dina claps her hands. “You can have an easy assignment today because of the whole ‘attacked for revenge’ thing-”

“That’s not what-”

“Well, no-one knows what happened, so for now my theory is valid. Anyway, I’ll assign you to grocery. Slow over there today, bakery is having a big sale and uh, huh, we had an overstock of powered donuts so it might get wild.”

“Well... thank you, Dina. A slow day sounds good, actually, because I’m starting to get a headache.” Jonah rubs his eyes. “Really bright in here.”

“It’s the standard fluorescents.” Glenn looks up. “Unless corporate had it changed overnight, but I don’t think so...”

Cheyenne tilts her head with a small frown, and looks at Jonah’s neck throughout the rest of the meeting.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“No way,” Mateo scoffs. “That’s far-fetched gossip, even for us.”

“No, but it would make sense, right?” Cheyenne looks around, and then whispers. “Didn’t notice the cold, lights too bright, two holes in his neck. Jonah totally got bitten by a vampire.” She leans back and nods, eyes wide at her own revelation.

“Vampires aren’t even real though! As much as we might wish they were.”

They glance over at Grocery. Jonah is yawning, leaning against the freezer section. 

“He looks pale, right?” Cheyenne whispers.

“He always looks pale. He could wear non-tinted sunscreen as foundation,” Mateo says with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Yeah, I guess. ... Should we try to get a look at his eyes?”

“Chy, I love you, but we’ve got a ton of restocking to do and I don’t want to be all panicked before lunch.”

“Right. Right. Yeah. Probably just like, letting my imagination get the best of me, right? Yeah...”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Excuse me?” 

Jonah startles, jumping away from the freezer door. “Hi! Yes, sorry! Um, what-what can I... help you with?”

“Could you please show me where the frozen pizzas are?”

“Sure, ma’am, right this way.” Jonah rubs his eyes, leading her to a different section of the freezer area. 

“Oh, thank you! Could you grab it for me?”

“Wh-why?”

“I don’t like the cold.”

Well, neither does he, and he’s already chilly. But this is his job. Somehow. How did he get here again? His head feel a little foggy, he can’t quite gather his thoughts. 

He reaches in and grabs the pizza. “Okay, here you-”

“No, the ones from the very back.”

“... I-I’m sorry?”

“The back ones are always better.”

“... Alright, I will... reach all the way into the back of the freezer.”

Jonah leans into the freezer, bracing himself for chills and shivers. And...

... Nothing.

It’s cold, but it’s... not bothering him that much. he leans in, grabs the pizza, and leans back out without feeling any more cold than he did prior to the task.

“Thank you, young man. You should grab yourself one too, it’ll put some color into those cheeks.”

The old woman walks away, and Jonah pulls out his phone to look up symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Justine shakes her head. “I’ve read Twilight a million times, if he was a vampire I would be able to tell.”

“What if we give him some garlic bread, and tell him it’s normal bread?” Sandra suggests.

“Because if he’s just allergic to garlic, we won’t know the difference. Doy.” Marcus scoff-laughs at Sandra and points at her mockingly with his thumb.

“What are you guys talking about?” Garrett asks, rolling up to the group. “Marcus, aren’t you supposed to be unloading a truck right now?”

“Eh, didn’t feel like it. Anyway, we’re trying to figure out if Jonah is a vampire now.”

“Are you serious?”

They all nod. Garrett grins. He folds his hands in his lap. “So what have you tried so far?”

“Nothing yet,” Justine admits.

“We might give him garlic bread,” Sandra says with a shrug. “Is he allergic to garlic?”

“No.”

Sandra lights up. “So it would work!” Her smiles fades. “Oh. But then it might kill him.”

“We can’t do that! The Horsemen stick together, I could never hurt my best friend.” Marcus shakes his head. “What if we just drop something really heavy on him and see if he catches it?”

“That won’t hurt him?” Garrett checks.

“Not if he’s a vampire.”

“Right, right. How about instead of splattering him across the Wheaties boxes, you just ask Glenn to go pester him with Bible stuff?” Garrett would love to see that, Jonah gets to flustered over trying not to offend while trying to get away. It’s hilarious.

Marcus points at Garrett with a smile. “That- yes! Perfect! Thanks man!”

The small group runs off, and Garrett laughs a little to himself as he heads on back to customer service.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh, this one is one of my favorite verses, so here we go, ahem-”

“Hey, Glenn? Isn’t there a-a rule, against doing this kind of thing at work?”

“Well... technically... but Marcus told me you wanted to know my favorite parts of the Bible, so I just sort of thought why wait.”

“He- really? Because I’m not... known, for being very curious about... the Bible...”

“But you are known for being curious about your friends,” Glenn says with a point and a smile.

Jonah plasters on a smile himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I do tend to-”

“Get a little nosy.”

“... I was going to say get involved, but... I-I guess nosy works too. But um, I’m restocking the ice cream right now, so kind of have to act fast,” Jonah motions at the freezeer.

“Oh, then I’ll make this quick! Okay, this verse says-”

Jonah sighs, rubbing his head. His headache is just getting worse and worse. He’s pretty sure it’s the lights, or maybe the dry-cold freezer air, but Glenn’s babbling is not helping. 

And his voice is really grating right now. It’s not exactly soothing at even the best of times, but Jonah is pretty sure he’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than another round of ‘Top Bible Verses’ from Glenn.

“Okay!” he snaps. “That’s good, that is- that is very much enough! Thank you for sharing something you enjoy with me, now please let me do my job!”

Glenn startles, and then hugs his Bible to his chest. “Fine. Then I guess you don’t get to hear me sing the top five best Psalms. Which is too bad for you, because Jerusha says I do them well enough to be on radio.”

Glenn walks away, and Jonah sighs. He hadn’t meant to snap, it was just really getting on his nerves. ... At least his headache is a little better already without the extra noise.

He watches Glenn walk away, and then catches sight of Justine and Sandra quickly ducking behind another isle. He looks on in confusion for a moment more, and then gets back to work.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, we need a real plan,” Justine sighs. 

“For what?” Dina pauses on her way to the coffee pot. “More raccoons? Did they find a snake in the bananas again?”

“We think Jonah night be a vampire,” Sandra says.

Cheyenne stops eating her lunch. “Oh my god, you told them?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say!” Mateo defends. “It’s been a boring day! Other than, you know, Jonah almost dying.”

“Wait, you guys think Jonah is a vampire? No way, have you seen him? That’d be too cliche.” Dina scoffs at the idea. And then looks at the ground, a thoughtful frown appearing on her face. “Although the cliche would also mean it makes sense...”

Garrett eats a chip. “Come on, he’d be a terrible vampire. Vampires are supposed to be confidant and suave. Jonah can’t even explain his cookie choices without a five-minute tirade.”

“And he’d cut himself off at least six times in those five minute,” Dina says with a slight wince. “Yeah, he’d be a terrible vampire.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes he’s really confident, and he does that smirk thing?” Sandra says, gesturing to her own mouth for emphasis. “Plus, he always stands like a politician.”

“And he puts way too much product in his hair! That’s a total vampire thing,” Cheyenne says with a definitive shrug.

“He does already have that black-hair-pale-skin thing going for him...” Mateo admits. “If he could be a villain on CW he could be a vampire.”

“And how would he drink blood?” Garrett asks. “Just talk until the person passes out? Ask overly politely in a way that really sounds like he’s trying to ask for sex?”

Everyone murmurs in agreement.

“He would starve,” Cheyenne declares. “Because he’d be picky, too, right?”

“Picky like, about the person’s health?” Mateo asks with a doubtful frown. “He’d probably freak out about not wanting to discriminate though.”

“That would be the starvation,” Dina says with a nod. “He’d be too worried about the socio-political crap of whoever he picks so he’d just debate himself until it was too late.”

“... That’d be kind of funny,” Mateo says quietly.

Everyone thinks for a moment, and then agrees.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Jonah.” Dina snaps her fingers in front of Jonah’s face, jarring him out of his standing sleep. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Sorry, Dina.” Jonah rubs his face. “I feel exhausted.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

“Yeah! Yeah, I know. Um, what did you need?”

“I need you to go help Brett move some of the exercise equipment, the dolly broke.”

“Wh- so-so we have to move it by hand?”

“You’ve got a little muscle on your noodle arms, you can handle it.” Dina slaps him on the back and walks away. Jonah huffs, hands on his hips. After a moment he shakes his head and moves over to exercise.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, now we find out for sure,” Dina says smugly. “No way a Human Jonah could handle the weight of that stuff.”

Everyone is crammed into the surveillance office, watching Jonah on the monitors.

“Should one of us tell Amy about this?” Cheyenne asks. “I feel like we’re leaving her out.”

“It is weird that I’m in on this and not her,” Marcus agrees. “But she’d probably tell us this is ‘dangerous’ or something.”

“She wouldn’t like it at all,” Dina confirms. “Best to just tell her about it later, or let her find out on her own. Later.”

They watch Jonah and Brett work together surprisingly smoothly, moving the heavy equipment with a perfectly human amount of struggling. Dina leans back in her chair with a disappointed sigh. “Dammit. I almost let myself believe in magic...”

“Wait, look!” Cheyenne points to the monitor. 

Everyone looks, excited and hopeful. And they collectively sigh and grumble.

“He’s just talking to a customer,” Mateo says.

“A super rude one! I’ve dealt with him before, he’s a total asshole. Let’s turn on the audio and listen to Jonah freak out.”

“I do love a good Jonah freakout.” Dina turns on the audio.

“Yeah, I-I’m sorry, sir, we just don’t carry that here anymore.”

“This store has carried it for over ten years.”

“Yeah, it’s a bummer! I know I hate when store stop carrying stuff I like. But maybe! Maybe we can view this as a-a chance for personal growth, for you! A chance at... at evolution, at moving forward-”

“Are you mocking me, little bitch boy?”

Everyone gasps. “Oh no he didn’t,” Cheyenne whispers. On the camera, Jonah is clearly taken aback, leaning away from the customer and staring with wide eyes.

“Some... very strong language, sir. Um, no, I just meant that maybe, you know, instead of-of viewing this in the negative-”

“So I’m a negative person?”

“No! No, I can’t- I don’t know you! I can’t make judgements about people that fast! Just- I hope this doesn’t ruin your day, right? And-and I want to see if we can find you a-a replacement, so that you can still have what you want!”

“How important do you think this is to me? You think I’m pathetic? Can’t be happy without my specific little brand?”

“No, I just-”

“I’m gonna need to speak with your bitch of a floor manager or whatever she’s called.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“Your bitch of a floor manager. The loud Latina lady.”

Dina stands up, ready to go beat the man with a bat for talking about her best friend that way. Cheyenne pushes her back down, jaw dropped. “I think Jonah is about to stand up to him,” she says.

Jonah is indeed, looking quite pissed off. He steps closer, and looks the much taller man right in the eyes. Jonah’s a good head shorter, his hair barely coming up to the other man’s chin, yet for some reason unknown the black-and-white monitor shows the customer being the one who leans back.

“You, sir, are a very unpleasant person,��� Jonah says in a calm, measured voice. “And I think you need to do some self-reflection. I think you should leave the store, and learn how to talk about people without using the word ‘bitch’, alright?”

It’s so overly polite it’s almost comical. Yet somehow... it works.

The customer stands there for a second, then just... walks away. Jonah watches after him, the calm and collection expression on his face quickly giving way to confusion. He looks around as though wondering if someone else had done something to scare the customer off.

“Confidence boost,” Sandra says softly.

Cheyenne pulls out a notebook and ticks something off. “That counts as evidence.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonah has no clue what just happened.

One moment he was speaking with a rude customer, the next the customer was walking away and Jonah has no clue why. What he does know was that his headache was slightly better, and that he really wishes his lunch break was sooner because he is famished.

Someone taps him on the shoulder, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. He turns around to see Amy looking at him with slight concern. “You okay? You’re just sort of... staring off into space.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Uh... yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

“... I don’t believe you.”

“Well, then you... have trust issues, because I am. I’m fine.”

“... Sure... can I see your neck again, real quick?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting weird and I want to make sure you’re not developing an infection that’s getting to your brain?”

“... Yeah, check away.”

Amy checks, and winces. “Youch. Yeah, let’s get some more antibiotics on those.” She starts leading him towards the breakroom. “So, what happened with that customer? I came over right at the tail end, missed the whole thing.”

“Oh. Um... I guess I just, really got through to him.”

“You?”

“Yes, me, why- what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It’s just, usually when you try to calm down a customer you don’t get very far.”

“Well, you know, sometimes people just listen if you hit the right cords-”

“Mmm-hmm, yeah.”

“-I guess I just found the right words to resonate with him, is all I’m saying.” If only he knew what those words were...

Creak

Jonah pauses. “Did-did you just hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Creaaak

Jonah looks up. “I think the ceiling is about to collapse.”

“Why?”

CREAAAAK!

A mass of merch falls from the ceiling! Amy and Jonah both scream, brace themselves, Amy still holding onto Jonah and Jonah still holding onto Amy-!

...

And... they’re a safe distance from it all as it crashes down.

A multitude of raccoons scamper out and scatter, their Nest Of Stolen Goods now revealed. Jonah and Amy watch from the sidelines.

The sidelines!

“How did we get over here?” Amy is staring at the pile.

“... I don’t know,” Jonah replies, staring as well. Oh, what an adrenaline rush, his heart is racing- ... it... should... be racing...

Amy’s hand is still around Jonah’s wrist. She looks at him for a moment, and then shakes off the shock. “Okay, um, let’s get a team to clean this up, and get some antibiotic on your neck.”

“Will that part take a whole team, too?”

“Ha-ha, Jonah. ... I’m just glad neither of us got hurt.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!” Cheyenne grabs Mateo and starts shaking him. “DID YOU SEE WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!”

“WE ALL SAW!” Mateo shouts, pushing Cheyenne away. He huffs and brushes off his sweater. “All three of us left, anyway.”

Dina taps the monitor. “That’s why you never leave the surveillance room after something mildly interesting happens! Something big always follows!”

“He’s actually a vampire,” Mateo says in disbelief. “He vampire-ran away from that junk, he’s actually a vampire!”

Dina scoff-laughs. “The little guy pulled off one hell of a ruse, huh? Pretty clever, faking amnesia.”

Cheyenne stops her mini victory celebration. “Whoa, why do you think he’s faking?” 

“Because why wouldn’t I? He’s a vampire now, even if he actually doesn’t remember what happened it’s got to be pretty obvious to him that he’s undead. ... Right?”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’re you googling?” Amy dabs at the neck wounds gently with a damp cloth as she prepares to put on the antibiotic cream.

“Symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia. I guess everyone got into my head this morning, and I’ve had some weird stuff happen to me...”

“Well... anything about last night coming back? Could help you figure out whatever symptoms you’ve got.”

“Still nothing.” Jonah rubs his neck when Amy is done dabbing it with the cloth. “I still feel like the day just started, honestly.”

“Oh yeah,” Amy agrees. “Today’s going to be a long day.”