#so this is just me trying to keep things neat and tidy

[tvrningout-a]

btw, i'm gonna mainly focus on plotting with those who like my plot posts and who fill out my interest checker, but just for now so i can stay organized. this doesn't mean i'm not gonna reach out or that you're not welcome to reach out -- pls do!! it'd put a big ol' smile on my face!! but i'm not gonna put out a plotting call for a while just bc i'm already bad at keeping track of posts. at least this way, i can easily find who's liked what and expressed interest and hopefully!! not forget to message anyone uvu

[alxtiny]

can you do which ateez habit you would have picked up from being around them for too long?

I struggled with this more than I should have I’m sorry 😭😭😭😭 Happy reading!!!

Habits you pickup from Ateez

Synopsis: little habits you pick up from ateez

Pairing: ateez members x gn!reader, idol au

Genre: fluff

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none:)

masterlist

• Hongjoong

Falling asleep in random places

You never thought you'd pick up such a peculiar habit from Hongjoong but here you were, dozing off on the couch in his studio. It had become somewhat of a routine lately. Hongjoong often found himself working late into the night, composing music and writing lyrics, and you couldn't bear to leave him alone. So, you stayed up with him, keeping him company and offering moral support.

Tonight was no different. The studio was dimly lit, save for the soft glow of the computer screen where Hongjoong was tirelessly tinkering away. You sat beside him, occasionally offering words of encouragement or fetching him a snack to keep his energy up. But as the hours passed, fatigue started to weigh heavily on your eyelids.

"You okay Y/n?" a familiar voice chimed in, bringing you back from the brink of slumber.

You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "Huh? Who? What?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

Seonghwa chuckled softly and gestured towards you. "You fell asleep in a chair, I think you’re spending too much time with Hongjoong. You should get some real rest before you start falling asleep in random places, like him, too."

Glancing over at Hongjoong, you realized he was completely absorbed in his work, oblivious to the conversation happening around him. You laughed sheepishly, realizing Seonghwa was right. Lately, you had indeed found yourself dozing off in various places – the couch, the kitchen table, even leaning against the wall.

"It's just... I can't leave him alone when he's working so hard," you explained softly, a small smile playing on your lips.

Seonghwa's expression softened as he understood. "I know, and I'm sure Hongjoong appreciates it too. But you need to take care of yourself as well, okay? "

You nodded, grateful for Seonghwa's concern. As you settled back into the couch, you made a mental note to try and get more sleep, even if it meant leaving Hongjoong to his work occasionally. But for now, you allowed yourself to succumb to the comforting embrace of sleep, knowing that Hongjoong was just a few feet away.

• Seonghwa

Acting motherly towards the members

Seonghwa watched with a bemused smile as you flitted around the dorm, straightening pillows, picking up stray socks, and tidying up the kitchen. It was a sight he'd grown accustomed to – you, inadvertently taking on the role of the dorm mom, just like he did. It wasn't something you consciously did, but rather a habit you'd picked up from spending so much time around him and the other guys.

You had a thing for neatness and sometimes acted much like a mom in your friend group, but lately, you found yourself slipping into Seonghwa's shoes more often than not. It was something he found endearing and amusing, seeing you scold the other members for leaving their belongings strewn about or for forgetting to do their chores.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Seonghwa asked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

You turned to him, a blushi tinting your cheeks, wondering just how long he had been watching you. "Oh, just tidying up a bit. It was a mess in here."

Seonghwa chuckled softly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don’t need to do all that, you know"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I can't help it. You guys are like family to me, and I just want to take care of you."

The other members wandered into the kitchen, groaning as they saw you fussing over the cleanliness of the space.

"Come on, Y/N, we already have one Seonghwa," Yunho teased, flashing you a playful grin. "We don't need you turning into another one."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide the smile tugging at your lips. "I'm just trying to help keep things organized around here. Someone has to do it."

Seonghwa wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "We appreciate it, really. Just don't forget to take care of yourself too, okay?"

You nodded, leaning into his side. "Of course. But someone has to keep you guys in line."

The others laughed, knowing deep down that they were lucky to have both you and Seonghwa looking out for them – even if it meant enduring occasional scoldings for their messy habits.

• Yunho

Picking at or biting your lips

Yunho had always been the type to immerse himself completely in whatever task he was working on, often biting or touching his lips in concentration. You, on the other hand, had never noticed this about yourself until Yunho pointed it out one day.

You were sitting together at the studio, both lost in your respective work. You were so engrossed in what you were doing that you didn't even realize your hand had wandered up to your lips, fingers lightly touching and occasionally biting at them in a habit you had unknowingly picked up from Yunho.

"Y/N," Yunho's voice broke through your concentration, causing you to look up, startled. "Don’t do that," he said, nodding towards your lips.

Confused, you furrowed your brows. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

Yunho sighed, his expression turning slightly serious. "You keep biting your lips. You might hurt them if you're not careful."

You blinked, suddenly becoming aware of what you were doing. "Oh," you muttered, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. "I didn't even realize I was doing that."

Yunho's lips twitched with amusement, but he quickly composed himself. "It's a bad habit. You should try to stop."

You couldn't help but feel a bit defensive. "Well, you do it too," you scoffed and pointed out.

Yunho's cheeks flushed slightly, and he looked away. "I... I do?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. Maybe we've just been spending too much time together," you teased.

Yunho's embarrassment was palpable now, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Maybe," he muttered, unable to meet your gaze.

But despite the awkwardness, there was a warmth in your chest knowing that even your unconscious habits were intertwined with his. It was just another reminder of how close the two of you had become, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for it.

• Yeosang

Clapping while laughing

You and Yeosang had spent such a long time together and over the course of it, you became attuned to each other's habits, quirks, and gestures without even realising it. One particular habit of Yeosang's that seemed to have rubbed off on you was the way he would clap his hands when he found something particularly amusing.

The way your hands would subconsciously come together and follow the rhythm of your laughter felt natural and neither of you actually noticed how a habit, once Yeosang’s, was now shared by you.

However, that was until one lazy afternoon when Yeosang excitedly showed you his phone, "Hey, check this out," he said with a grin, pushing it towards your face.

Curious, you glanced at the screen, finding yourself staring at a Twitter thread created by an ATINY. The thread was a compilation of gifs and videos, side by side, showing you and Yeosang laughing together. What caught your attention, however, was the caption accompanying the thread: "Am I the only one who noticed that Y/N and Yeosang have the same adorable habit of clapping while laughing? #YeoY/N."

"Oh my god they’re adorable."

"They look like cute little seals when they're laughing together, it's like they're synchronised."

You couldn't help but smile and giggle as you scrolled through the thread, amused by how certain things never went unnoticed by their fans, even if you yourselves were oblivious.

Yeosang glanced over at you, his expression softening. "I guess we really do spend too much time together, huh?"

You chuckled, leaning closer to him. "Maybe. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

• San

Covering your mouth while laughing

It was just one of those habits you picked up without even realising it – covering your face while laughing. It was something you'd seen San do countless times, his hand rising instinctively to his mouth as his laughter bubbled up. Maybe it was the contagiousness of his joy, or perhaps it was the familiarity that made you do it, but whatever the reason, you found yourself unconsciously mimicking his actions more and more as time went on.

You didn't think much of it, not until one fateful day when you and San were doing a live stream together. The comments were flooding in, a flurry of emojis and supportive messages from fans all over the world. Amidst the sea of text, one comment stood out:

"OMG, look how they laugh the same! 😍 SanYn are the cutest! 💕"

Curious, you glanced at the screen, only to see San's eyes widen in realisation. He turned to you, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Looks like we've been caught," he teased, nudging you lightly.

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but there was also a warmth spreading through you, a sense of fondness at the thought of sharing such a small, intimate detail with San. "Guess we spend too much time together," you joked back, unable to suppress a smile.

But as the live stream continued, you couldn't help but notice how often you and San found yourselves laughing, your hands rising simultaneously to cover your mouths. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the bond you shared, the way you seemed to sync up without even trying.

After the stream ended, you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to San’s cheek, you couldn't help but giggle at how much these little quirks affected you, maybe making life more comfortable along the way.

• Mingi

Making the 🥺 face

To the people outside, Mingi seemed to be very intimidating, with his deep voice and built 6ft stature but inside the comfort of his he couldn't be more different. He knew he was cute and he knew how to use it against people. One quick look sent your way with his puppy eyes and pouty lips and you would melt, at some point this habit of his rubbed off on you.

The members weren’t safe from it either, like when Seonghwa had just finished making a delicious batch of ramen for himself. The aroma wafted through the room, teasing your senses and making your stomach growl loudly. You and Mingi couldn't help but stare at the steaming bowl with longing eyes.

"Seonghwa hyung, that smells amazing," Mingi exclaimed, his eyes widening with hunger.

You nodded enthusiastically, finding yourself unintentionally mirroring Mingi's expression, your lips slightly pouting like the 🥺 emoji.

Seonghwa chuckled at your antics, shaking his head. "Sorry guys, this is just for me. I only made enough for one."

"But hyung, we're starving!" Mingi whined, his voice tinged with desperation.

You glanced at Seonghwa, your eyes pleading as you continued to unknowingly imitate Mingi's puppy-dog expression.

Seonghwa sighed, feeling the pressure of your combined adorable stares. "Oh no, I have to deal with two Mingis now, don't I?"

You and Mingi exchanged a glance before bursting into giggles, realising your unintentional synchronisation. Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh along with you.

"Fine, fine," Seonghwa relented, dividing the ramen between the three of you. "But next time, make your own!"

• Wooyoung

Smacking people while laughing

You couldn't help but laugh at the way Wooyoung told a recount of the recent Wanteez episode the boys shot, adding his own commentary in between. He always had a way of making you laugh wholeheartedly, even when you fought he would be the one to apologise first and crack a joke to make you smile. However, what you didn't realise was that you had picked up one of his habits along the way.

In the midst of your laughter, your hand instinctively swung out and smacked San's thigh, eliciting a surprised yelp from him. It wasn't until he looked at you with a mix of amusement and slight irritation that you realised what you had done.

"Oops, sorry, San!" you apologised, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you tried to suppress your laughter.

San rubbed his thigh, shooting you a mock glare. "I already have to take abuse from Wooyoung, and now you're doing it too?"

You couldn't help but giggle at his playful complaint, but Wooyoung nudged you with a grin. "Looks like my habits are rubbing off on you, huh?"

You chuckled, realising how similar you two acted these days. "I guess so. Sorry, San, I’ll try not to do that but I can’t make any promises." You winked at him.

San shook his head and scoffed at your mocking, a smile breaking through his faux irritation. "Ahh so much I have to go through,"

You and Wooyoung giggled at his words, knowing how much he loved you both the same, with the occasional physical abuse of course.

• Jongho

Scrunching your nose while smiling/laughing

As you sat on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you stumbled upon a video compilation titled "JongYn Couple Moments" ,obviously your curiosity got the better of you and you clicked on it, not fully knowing what to expect. What unfolded on the screen was definitely not what you were expecting, it sent a sudden blush creeping up your cheeks.

The video was a compilation of moments featuring you and Jongho, through the fans’ eyes, complete with dramatic commentary about how cute you two were together. Especially about the way your noses scrunched and crinkles formed around your eyes as you both laughed, with your faces making the same endearing expression.

You couldn't help but be amused as you watched, realising that you had subconsciously copied Jongho's habit of scrunching his nose when he smiled.

Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. Glancing over, you found Jongho peering over your shoulder, his eyes fixated on the screen. As he watched the video, a wide grin spread across his face, small giggles leaving his lips.

"Wow, we really do look alike sometimes," Jongho remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You nodded, still giggling at the sight. "I never realized I picked up on your habit."

"It's adorable," Jongho said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "I guess I've rubbed off on you, huh?"

You chuckled, leaning into his touch. "Looks like it. But hey, I don't mind sharing a few habits with you."

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

Send an ask or a message to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist:

[woso-dreamzzz]

Helper

Lia Wälti x Child!Reader

Leah Williamson x Child!Reader

Summary: You're the best helper

When auntie Leah tears her acl, Mummy moves you and herself into Leah's house.

She says it's because Leah will need some support. You think it's because Mummy thinks Leah won't eat proper meals. Sometimes, Mummy says Leah eats like she's rationing which means she's got a bad palate and the taste buds of a kid a lot younger than you.

But Mummy is insistent that auntie Leah just needs a bit of support and some help.

Thankfully though, Mummy always calls you her best helper so you make sure to be Leah's best helper too.

"Morning, guppy," Mummy greets you one morning.

"Hi, Mummy," You say, giving her a big morning hug. You're still very little, not yet old enough to go to school but you're getting there. Mummy says next year, you were born just a few days too late to go to school this year.

That's fine though.

That gives you time to be a big help to auntie Leah.

"What's for breakfast?" You try to peak up at the counter but you're still too little and Mummy smiles.

"Pancakes."

You gasp. "Really?"

"Really, guppy. Now, before pancakes, what must we do?"

"Wash our hands."

"That's right. Your auntie Leah is still sleeping. Do you want to wake her up for me? So we can all have pancakes?"

You nod.

"Okay, off you go."

You hurry up the stairs to auntie Leah's room and slip inside.

Mummy is right. Leah's fast asleep, like a big lump in the middle of the bed. Her crutches are on the floor near the door and you move to lean them up closer to her, so she can grab them.

You also move all of the clothes out of the way of the path to her door.

A few days ago, Mummy caught you trying to clean Leah's room for her but she said Leah's an adult and she doesn't need help keeping her room tidy and just because yours is always neat doesn't mean that Leah's had to be the same.

That was a little confusing because Mummy's room is also clean and tidy so you'd just assumed it was an adult thing.

You shuffle the clothes out of the way though just so it's easier for her.

Leah doesn't like the big light in the morning because it always scares her awake so you half-open her curtains before finally properly approaching her.

"Auntie Leah," You whisper, shaking her shoulder," It's morning time."

Leah grunts a little, trying to roll over. "Five more minutes."

"Mummy's making pancakes," You tell her," And she told me to get you up. We need to wash our hands before eating."

Leah seems a bit more awake at that and you help her pull her covers down so she can get out of bed.

"Thanks, guppy," She says as you help her with her crutches.

"That's okay, auntie Leah! We still need to go to the bathroom to do our hands though. Mummy says it's very important to wash the germs off our hands before eating."

"Oh, wow," Leah says as she walks with you," Thanks for telling me."

"That's okay," You reply, holding the bathroom door open for her," Mummy also says two squirts of soap to make sure you're hands are very clean and the germs go away."

To demonstrate, you stand on your stool and squirt two loads of soap on your hand and wash your hands like Mummy's shown you since you were little.

You supervise Leah washing your hands before helping her down the stairs, picking up all the things that were strewn across them last night.

"Mummy," You say," Auntie Leah and I washed our hands."

Lia turns around just as Leah slides into her seat. "Well," She says," You're right on time because I just finished the pancakes." She helps you up onto your own seat, cutting up your pancakes for you before sliding the plate towards you.

"Mummy," You say as you eat," Do we need to do dishes?"

"I do, yes," Mummy says in amusement, knowing exactly what you want to ask.

"Can I help?"

"I don't know, guppy," She says," Are you sure? You can go and play with Leah."

You shake your head. "No thank you, Mummy. I can help you. Auntie Leah can relax."

Leah snickers at your side. "Jesus, Lia, are you sure you're raising a child? I've never met a kid so well behaved."

Lia rolls her eyes. "I'm raising her to be polite. It's not my fault she's naturally like that."

You beam proudly at that, puffing out your chest whenever anyone tells you that you're being polite.

"Are you sure, guppy?" Auntie Leah checks with you," We can sit down and play FIFA."

"No thank you, auntie Leah," You say," I'd like to help Mummy clean up first."

"Well," Leah says, sticking her hands up," I tried."

Lia laughs as she picks you up, dragging another one of your stools over so you can be high enough to reach the sink. "Thank you for wanting to help me, guppy."

"It's okay, Mummy," You reply," If we do it together then it'll take half the time!"

[rosescarlette]

- Monthly subscription.. -

"Darling.. why is the back of your pants red?"

Zhongli had asked. You got your period... And that's when you realised and we're embarrassed. You tried to cover it up by saying something silly but your husband's senses are quite sharp and he immediately knew you were bleeding by the smell.

"Is that blood?! I- we need to take you to Doctor Baizhu! Immediately!"

"Hey hey it's fine! It's just something I go through every month.."

"EVERY MONTH?!"

You weren't quite surprised by his behaviour. After you knew he was an archon, you came to know that he doesn't understand humans much even after he tried to mingle with his people. He immediately panicked.. he tried to get you to the pharmacy.. but you refused. He didn't understand how bleeding every month is normal. He was seriously very worried and thought it wasn't normal and immediately rushed you to the pharmacy.. (Ofc you changed yourself)

"Mr. Zhongli I'd say she's perfectly fine. Why did you bring her to the pharmacy?"

"How is bleeding every month fine?? It's serious! It's like some chronic disease!"

Baizhu immediately laughed and was very entertained by how zhongli was acting. Zhongli was quite confused on the other hand. Did he ask anything embarrassing? He was pretty sure he had asked reasonable questions.

"Ah.. let me guess. Mr. Zhongli doesn't know about this?"

Baizhu asked you with a smile. He knew immediately when Zhongli had kept asking ridiculous questions, he didn't know much about the human body. You immediately sighed and told Dr. Baizhu that he indeed didn't know. That's when Dr. Baizhu had told Zhongli about how women's periods work. And both of you went back home. When you went back home. Zhongli still had a face where he was very shocked. He immediately started asking questions.

"So.. you suffer for EVERY MONTH?!"

"Yeah that's quite the short way to put the misery."

"PARDON?!"

"Yes? What's so shocking?"

"Darling you better tell me more about this.. I NEED to know more so I can take care of you PROPERLY."

"Eh..? Zhongli it's fine you don't have to.."

"No I HAVE to."

"Alright fine. I can't keep putting up with your stubborn as- *ahem* anyways."

Trust me he did give you quite a death glare to stop you from swearing. After you had told him everything.. he was just flabbergasted. He wanted to know more now. And the part where you mentioned that you get period cramps where it hurts like HELL. He wanted to know what would subside the pain and how to ease your uneasiness.

When you were removing your bedsheets to clean them. He immediately stopped you.

"Zhongli.. what are you doing now?"

"I want to take care of you. Please... I can't see you in pain."

"Uh I am fine now.. Can I do some work?"

He immediately said "No."

"Hey that's not fair! I want to do some work too!"

"Darling just rest-"

And when you keep protesting he doesn't mind at all by keeping the bedsheets aside and he immediately picks you up in a bridal style. You immediately flushed.

"H-HEY! PUT ME DOWN!!"

"No."

He kept you in his bedroom where you can sleep for the time being. You can't do anything.. he's stubborn and will just use his strength to stop you from doing anything.

You sighed and decided to take a rest in his bedroom after all it was cozy and neat and of course expensive.

In the time you slept... Zhongli had changed the bedsheets of your bedroom, did the laundry, made your bedroom very cozy. He was trying his level best of the knowledge he had to make sure you don't feel any pain or discomfort. He even organised your room so that things would be a little easier for you. When you woke up he was making some tea which soothes the pain of period cramps. Honestly you didn't know how to react.. he had quite a serious face while he was doing all these things. You decided to go to your bedroom.

When you got to your bedroom you were surprised that everything was neat and organised. EVERYTHING. The room itself was tidy. You immediately went to ask him what he was doing and he replied with a smile and gave you a cup of tea.

"Drink it.. it soothes the pain of period cramps my dear."

"Thanks.. and why did you clean my room? You know you didn't have to CLEAN everything in the room.."

"If it was for you. I'd do it. I'd do anything for you just to be happy."

"Oh silly zhongli."

He absolutely didn't mind. He would love to do anything for you. ANYTHING. And.. of your period pains were worse at night.. be sure to tell him! He would immediately go get a heating pad and something to eat, to replenish your lost energy of course. And if you want him to hug you while you are asleep just speak so and it's done. He would absolutely love to have you in his arms. He's quite a big spoon so expect your position to be as a teddy bear compared to him.

He also noticed your pattern of mood swings. And he knows quickly to deal with them. You don't know how this guy is managing you at this point. Because you wouldn't even handle yourself.

"Dear I am going to get some stuff do you want anything?"

"Just ice cream and some chocolates please!"

"Of course."

He'd get everything more than it was needed because he knows how unpredictable you get with food. And he makes special dishes that help you get energy and your strength back.

---------------------------------------------------

Am sorry for not posting in a while :'( my mental health and my life at my house wasn't quite good. I am very Grateful for all of you trying to be patient with me! :D

[perksofbeingpoet]

dps dorm dynamics pt. 2 <33

what i imagine the day to day lives of the guys in their shared rooms to look like <3

☆ CHARLIE AND CAMERON ☆

》 have a cliché line deviding their room- Cameron is very tidy and keeps his half all neat and clean and hates the look of Charlie's side of the room because it is a literal mess, and they regularly argue about it. ("Could you at least keep the floor visible for God's sake, how many layers of clothes are-" "Who cares?! Who are you trying to impress anyway, not like anyone would want to come to your room")

》 used to play very petty pranks on each other, the whole childish "hand in warm water while sleeping, hiding clothes, stealing homework" stuff, until the poets were so annoyed by their constant bickering that they made them stop.

》 cannot study together AT ALL. is anyone surprised by this? charlie gets all annoyed and doesn't want cameron to explain stuff to him "like I'm stupid", cameron gets impatient super quickly

》 had a fight about posters. charlie wanted to shock good little christian cameron and put a poster of a naked woman above his bed- cameron got Nolan to look at their room. Charlie kinda lost that argument.

》 have a sort of secret truce about one thing: cameron used to have pretty bad nightmares when they were younger and would wake up crying and all that, charlie has never ever mentioned it to any of the others because cameron promised he'd read them one of the letters charlie gets from his mum if he did.

》 are forced to be the first ones to wish each other happy birthday in the morning because they share a room- it feels wrong, so they do it in the snarkiest way possible. ("Wake up idiot, I survived another year of living with you. Congratulations to me.")

》 will still help each other out in emergencies. one time, charlie was unusually stressed about an assignment, he was almost failing the class and nearly crying because he knew what his parents might do if he did. he woke up to his essay having been corrected and a note saying "shut up, i can't sleep with you crying".

another time, cameron accidentally smashed a window in with a ball or something and was severely panicking, almost physically sick with fear, only to find out that charlie took on the blame and had gotten both detention and physical punishment. when he got to their room, charlie just said "helps my reputation. you should learn how to do sports though, nerd."

hope y'all liked these- wishes on who's next? :))

[strwberri-milk]

First Aid Isn't Cheap

Rafayel x GN!Reader || Comf || 2 167 words

Rafayel can’t see again. It’d be helpful if you could stay with him for a few nights until he gets his vision back.

Thomas’s text glows at you as you pack your bag, not bothering to check twice what you’re bringing. Thankfully this time Rafayel’s self inflicted blindness falls in line with a week long break you’ve been given at work, allowing you to devote all your time to him as you see fit.

When you arrive, you find Rafayel happily working in his studio as though there’s nothing wrong. The only way you know he can’t see is when he turns in the direction of you when you open the door, brows furrowing as he tries to figure out who it is. His eyes are unfocused, looking in your direction but not at you in that intense way that he typically does.

“Oh, you made it. Didn’t Thomas just text you? That was fast,” he says as he walks over to you, pulling you and your overnight bag into a hug.

“I was worried you’d trip and break your ankle to add on to the list of things I need to take care of you for. Knowing you you’d try to milk this to keep me here as long as possible,” you scold, still hugging him back as much as you can.

“Don’t worry – I told you already this is pretty common. I’ll be fine. If you don’t want to babysit me you really don’t have to. I can take care of myself.”

You stare at him open mouthed, glad that he can’t see the expression on your face.

You know that this happens to him a lot. You know it’s a result of him overworking himself. You know that he can take care of himself, and you know that technically speaking, he doesn’t need you to watch over him. Rafayel, for all your grievances, is actually incredibly self sustainable. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself, a certain independence about him that you don’t think you’d ever be able to get rid of.

That doesn’t mean that you don’t worry about him though.

You drop your bag, Rafayel turning back to discern if he can figure out what’s happening. He can make out general forms and colours, brain connecting the two to get a general idea of what he’s looking at. He’s upset by the fact that he can’t see your face but having you near him will just have to sate him for now.

“Do you need help with that?” he asks, reaching down just to brush his fingers against your hand.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just go set up in your room. Your phone is near you right? Call me if you need anything while I put my stuff away,” you say quickly, turning out of his studio to head to his bedroom.

You’re glad that he couldn’t see you. You’re glad your voice didn’t waver. You’re glad that you can cry in peace in his bedroom because is its own building. He wouldn’t be able to hear you unless he was in there with you, arms wrapped around your waist as he tries to coax you into telling him what’s wrong. The worst part is you know it’ll work, that all your anger and anxiety towards him will dissipate the second his voice hits your ears and this is the only chance you’ll have to try and stay strong against him.

You unpack your things, opening his closet and smiling at the fact that the clothes you forgot last time are still there. They’re freshly laundered as well, hanging amongst his things as though they’ve always been there. It just makes your heart hurt even more, so distracted by your own thoughts that you don’t hear him walk into his room.

Just as you thought, he wraps his arms around your waist, chin sitting your shoulder as he nuzzles against you.

“I’m gonna go take a shower. Do you wanna join me?” he asks, peppering your cheek in kisses.

On a normal day you’d jump at the opportunity, regardless of whether or not things are going to escalate but right now you don’t think you can manage it. You shake your head, Rafayel feeling the movement against his nose.

“Do you need me in there? If you do I will.”

Your eyes stay focused straight ahead, tidying up his surprisingly neat closet just to keep your hands focused. His brow furrows as he realises there’s something simmering just beneath the surface, He decides not to ask right now, hoping you’d talk to him once you’re ready.

“If I do, I’ll call for you. Promise.”

You nod and he reluctantly lets you go, a little distracted by the way you felt as he showers. He tries to figure out what could have happened – you didn’t say that there was anything strange happening at work and the last time the two of you were together you were perfectly fine. All he knows is that he thinks you need him right now, wanting to get out of the water for once to come back to your side.

Shortly after Rafayel heads into the washroom you hear the doorbell ring. You make your way over to his studio entrance, watching a delivery person drop off a giant bundle of food before driving off. You wait for them to leave before grabbing whatever it is he seems to have ordered for dinner, bringing it back to the bedroom to unpack.

You smile at the selection of food once you recognise the logo. It’s all your favourites. Of course, he was going to be sweet enough to order things you want to eat, even if he couldn’t read the menu on his phone. He hates talking to people on a good day but you know in order to get this spread he had to call the restaurant himself to place the order, probably doing it all for you. Maybe he knows you’re upset and he’s trying to butter you up and, just like every other time, you know you’re falling for it.

“Foods here?” he asks, sniffing a little as he comes beside you. You set everything up on a desk in his room, pulling a seat over and guiding him to sit down.

“I made you a plate of your favourites,” you say in response, handing him some cutlery as you take his hand to show him where everything is. He pouts a little, looking at you as he puts his free hand on yours.

“Feed me? I can’t see. I need you to pity me a little,” he teases, making you roll your eyes.

“Fine. Here.”

You bring a spoon to his mouth, gently guiding him to make sure he actually does manage to eat. You resist the urge to tease him, taking a bite yourself once he’s got his in his mouth.

“I’ve been staying up for a while to work on my next series,” he starts in way of an explanation.

“I’ve just been so excited to finish it that I haven’t really been sleeping or eating. It’s been a while since the last time I’ve been this motivated to work on something. Did you see some of them when you came in? How did you think they looked?” he asks excitedly, clearly anticipating your answer.

You think back to what you do remember, trying to see if you can conjure up anything before shaking your head in defeat.

“I didn’t notice them. I was more focused on you.”

Rafayel smirks, bringing your hand up to press a kiss against your knuckles.

“You’re quite the flatterer. Stuck in a room of beautiful art and all you can look at is the artist slaving away.”

“Course I am. You overworked yourself again.”

A sprinkle of frustration sinks into your words, Rafayel catching the tone but not wanting to push his luck by playing it off. His grip tightens on your hand, nuzzling his cheek against it.

“I’m fine. The doctor said that it looked better this time than other times. That’s a good thing.”

You don’t feel as reassured by his words as he wanted you to.

Night falls around the two of you, Rafayel’s arms around your shoulders keeping you securely against his chest. You can’t really fall asleep, mind racing with thoughts as you trace aimless shapes on the blanket. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, steady in his slumber.

Without warning, you feel tears staring to slide down your cheeks. You bring a hand up to wipe at your tears, muffling the sobs that come unprovoked. Here in silence being held by the man who means more than life to you you can’t help but cry for him. At him.

You wish he took better care of himself. You wish he paid more attention to his body. You wish that he didn’t do things that made you worry and worry, stomach tying itself in knots as your brain continuously goes to the worst-case scenario. He really could hurt himself like this but his flippant attitude towards himself just makes it worse. It’s probably going to be impossible for you to convince him to take better care of himself, an absolute slave to his own whims.

Rafayel wakes up shortly thereafter, you unaware until he somehow manages to turn you to face him. He shushes you gently, hands reaching to brush away the tears on your face. He didn’t need to see you to know you having long memorised each and every part of your body. You want to push him away, yell some sense into him but you know that it’s not really his fault.

“What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

“No. Nothing like that. I just…Rafayel…you can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Last time this happened you said maybe it’d stick. Then today you said the doctor said that your eyes are better this time than other times but why does there need to be other times?”

“You’re worried about me,” Rafayel exhales.

“Yes!” you say a little louder than intended, sniffling as you try not to cry as much.

“I worry about you. And before, I just had to worry about smaller things. Then, I find out you love using rare and almost dangerous materials but thankfully, you can fight and thankfully, you have other ways to source your pigments. I can protect you from those things. I can fight too. But when you do things like this to yourself I can’t do anything about it. How – how can I help you if you won’t even help yourself?” you babble, hands knotting in his shirt as you cry.

“I just want you to be healthy and well. I don’t want to worry about you going blind forever. I wouldn’t love you any less, I promise, but I don’t want you to lose something so important to you.

“You always talk about the world so vividly. How things smell, how they look, how it feels against your skin. I want you to be able to tell me about how you experience the world unabashedly. I want you to be healthy and well. I don’t want to keep getting texts about how you’re feeling lightheaded from fasting for three days unintentionally or your doctor asking me to pick you up because you’ve strained another muscle from painting in the same position for hours on end.”

He listens attentively as you cry to him, brushing back your bangs and cupping your face in his hands. He nods empathetically, softly agreeing with you whenever you need a break before continuing to rant at him.

“I’m sorry my love,” he says, kissing your forehead.

“I’m not used to having someone worry about me this much. I’ve been by myself for so long. You understand, don’t you?” he asks, thumb rubbing against your cheek.

“I forget sometimes that I have someone who cares about me. That if I’m hurt, you’re hurt. I forget that as much as I love you, you love me just as much because I don’t feel worthy of your affections.”

“You are,” you say stubbornly, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you so much. That’s why I worry so much.”

“I know, I know. I promise I’ll get better for you.”

He continues to repeat his promise as many times as you need to hear it, mad at himself for upsetting you so much. You manage to exhaust yourself from crying soon enough, snoring lightly in his arms when you finally fall asleep. He buries his nose in your hair, taking in a deep breath of you as he holds you tightly.

The tension finally slips off of your shoulders as he swears that this time will be the last time. He just wants to give you everything you want, knowing that if it’d make you happy he’d do anything.

[kit-williams]

Home is where the heart is... so where is my heart?

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@the-californicationist (You might like Horus ((Before he turned evil))) @justeverythingnothingelse (Since you kinda asked for this)

tw: Smut, canon compliant breeding kink

Word Count: 2437 (6 pages on Google Docs) ((I use docs to check the word count))

As always thank you @squishyowl for the dividers

Horus at one point loathed to return to his quarters alone... when his Mournival came it made it feel less cold but that wasn't always the case and he would come back to the room alone. You helped keep it neat and tidy but Horus tried his best to fill it with things... knickknacks... the walls in far more private rooms had graffiti that reminded him of home but all he tried to do only made it feel like a parody.

No matter how close he got it to look like an old ganger hideout that he remembers so vividly... it lacks the feeling... the smell of bodies passing through... the appearance that someone else other than him has been there. You find him so very glum as you feel brave enough to try and ask your Primarch what is wrong and listen to his woe...

"Would... would you like me to help with that sire?" You offered and you see that he almost jumps with excitement like a dog almost.

"Um what would you propose." He says with restrained eagerness.

He no longer dreaded returning to his quarters as there was at least one other person! Not the size of a gang that he wanted to share a space with but... he had his mournival always around him so he could survive having at least one person around at all times. He got you to move in basically when the Primarch told you what he was so use to... he didn't like to live alone... sure he could sleep alone but the sterile living quarters or bachelors pad that it was made him go crazy.

You moved in full time just adding your touch to living there and it made him actually relax while he was there. You were on the large sofa sewing patches on your clothes... He could just get you new ones... though... one of those was your favorite blouse. "What happened to your blouse?" He said leaning on the back of the couch.

"Popped a button." You say as he looks at how one of the buttons over where your breasts would be had popped. Horus bit his tongue as he looked you over and indeed... your breasts had grown slightly sending a fire to his loins. Not only that just... just the fact you were here verses your own quarters doing your mundane chores; once he caught you here on your day off just relaxing and doing some sewing as you watched a drama on your cogitator... eventually he pushed it onto the large screen as the two of you sat on his couch watching tv as you were sewing what he later learned was a baby blanket for another serf... He remembers holding it and looking at the little animals on it... he liked babies... he babied some of his own sons... but they weren't his babies...

"Horus?" You say looking up at him as he was zoning out.

"Hmm? Sorry..."

"It's fine you're just staring at my blouse still... do you want to talk about it?"

"No... do you want dinner?" Horus put the blouse back down.

"Augh thank you for reminding me." You said starting to pack things up, "I finished cleaning-"

"Where are you going?" Horus says frowning.

"Back to my quarters?" You pause as you're surprised by this sudden line of questioning.

"Why?"

"I have to get started on dinner?"

"Just eat here." Horus says waving his hand.

You let out an exacerbated sigh, "My Lord-"

"Why are you getting formal on me?"

"Horus!" You say stopping him from continuing on and he looks at you... and you just let any annoyance leave you as you see him look at you with some look in his eyes that silently pleaded with you to stay. "I... Just.... You don't have anything in your fridge for me." You finally relent as he just gives you a genuine smile as you sit back down and return to sewing.

"I'll get something nice brought for you... we can always get ingredients for you to use."

"Your kitchen is huge."

"But your quarters are so far..." He whined before you could feel him suddenly beside you. "So... what if you got closer quarters?"

"If I lived closer?" You say as you were getting dangerously close to moving into the same quarters as him, stars above if that happened...

"Would you eat dinner with me more?" He said as his hands move over your shoulders, his large thumbs gently rubbing against the back of your neck and you just groan in enjoyment at the sudden massage.

"Maybe." You sigh out enjoying this. "Can I stay on your couch tonight?"

You can't hear the way his hearts jump or the restrained excitement in his voice, "Oh why?"

"It will be far too late and I'm not fighting a sea of second shift people leaving to get back to my quarters if you're also getting me dinner too."

"Of course I'll be a happy host you."

You wonder if this is what a noble who gets his undivided attention feels like as it feels weirdly intimate as food seems to arrive without you knowing... you had heard that he had wined and dined mortals before a bit before your time but... you move your stuff out of the way. But the food... the food was far too rich for you... far too good for your station... and yet you felt comfortable with how Horus ate like a commoner still. Oh he loved to relax as you had found him laying around with his men like a bunch of teenagers trying to expend as little energy but still get food into their mouths.

You don't know what happened... one moment you two were watching some horror and sharing food from your plates. How your lips bush against his fingers as he offered you to eat something as your eyes are focused on the predictable plot, "No bitch don't go in there." You say softly as you quickly burrow yourself into his side to hide from the killer that would show up.

"She's so fucked." Horus whispered but he was focused on you as you were hiding.

You hide your face in his side as the actress gets mauled on screen by the killer and he could feel your heartrate spike and he just soon pull you into his lap as you were watching through your fingers, "By the stars this is terrifying."

"I think the director is Nostroman." Horus said casually putting another piece of food to your lips and relishing the way your mouth moved against his fingers.

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight." You whined.

"You can stay with me." Horus says softly as you just mindlessly nod. The movie ends predictably... meaning that the killer might come back... and you lean against his chest just trying to dispel your fearful thoughts. "Did you really get scared?" He asks with some concern and you laugh and nod a bit.

"Its been awhile since I had a scare like that."

You feel his index finger curl under your chin as his thumb rests just below your bottom lip, "Good thing you have me to protect you tonight." Horus says in a husky voice that causes your breathing to hitch for a moment.

"My L-"

He cuts you off with a kiss, his hand groping the fullness of your ass as he carries you to the bedroom. Your clothes being removed piece by piece and you're in your underclothes by the time his foot closes his bedroom door. "You smell so good my little-" He cuts himself off as he kisses you hard. "Let me touch you darling... let me love you." He breathes against your skin and you moan.

"Horus... Horus..." You say spreading your legs wide as he pulls your underclothes away and his finger coaxes its way into the slick opening of your sex.

The restrained Primarch felt himself start to unravel seeing you writhe under him to his ministrations. So use to your presence he had become that the thought of you not spending the night any longer was driving him mad. You'd left your mark on this place, pictframes holding picts you had taken of Horus and his Mournival all the ones you had taken all of them being in such humanizing moments, a blanket you had sewn drapes across the back of one of the couches, your scent lingers in the couch cushions... it lingered in the air... it lingered how Horus needed.

"You'll be such a good mother." His gene enhanced voice dropped an octave as his desires were laid bare and he hummed approvingly as you clenched on his finger, your teeth pressing onto your bottom lip, as you covered your eyes with one arm whimpering as the lavished attention of your Primarch was an intense thing... and it did things to you. "You're taking my fingers so well my little wife... " He cooed into your ear, you wanted to ask what he meant by that but you also were pulled into the sexual fantasy so easily. His tongue tracing the shell of your ear, "Will you take my cock just as well?" He whispers to you and you whimper out a small orgasm as your walls clench around his fingers.

Horus pulled off his pants with such quickness you thought he had simply adjusted his position over you as he smears your fluids over his cock head. "Breathe." He orders and you obey as the sensation of his cock sinking into your sex causes you to exhale slowly and inhale sharply. Your small foot pushes against his chest during moments it becomes too much, his thumb making circles on your hipbones... Horus wondering how much more pronounced they would look on you after you had a baby.

Horus was utterly fascinated by the human body... and the way it shifts and will change to accommodate growing a life inside of it. Of course, your body would never be the same after having one... or two... or three... but the thought of you carrying something of his own making was utterly erotic for him. He sinks in more when you let him losing your breath as he bottoms out and you uncover your eyes just looking between your legs with wide eyes, "Oh by the stars." Your shocked voice shakes out as you weren't expecting to fit him, far to scared to see how big he was.

Horus chuckled softly, "Of course you would take my cock so well..." He looks down at you with such a sin ladened look that it causes you to be utterly flustered, "I seem to just..." He clicks his tongue thinking for a moment, "Have a good eye for people."

Your breath leaves you as he churns his hips and all you can manage out besides pleasured noises is his name. All the while the Primarch is whispering such lurid things in your ear; you honestly didn't realize that you might have a breeding kink as well given how he tells you what he wants to do to you in erotic detail. How he will just find a day to utterly fuck you silly and so full of his cum you'll look pregnant. How greedy he will be to suckle and lick your breasts when they start to weep... how this man can make it all sound so erotic... it makes you buck your hips back into his begging for him to give you what he is promising. Though in the back of your mind it dances how he calls you his, you are one of his menials yes, but the other how he keeps calling you wife....

You'll ask later as right now you're utterly lost to the way he fucks you from here to Terra only finally stopping when you're close to passing out to which he cums inside of you.... not that you're fully there as he kisses your throat... "Yes rest now my pretty little wife... everything... will be... care of."

You pass out not long after that the horror movie monster long forgotten as you sleep in such a lavished bed... waking up with your head on his chest listening to the twin beats of his hearts. You wipe away the drool from the side of your mouth, "Hey pretty girl." He says with a wink as his eyes darted from his datapad for a moment before looking back.

"The shift master is going to kill me." You grouse as you know you overslept.

"No he's not." Horus says amused.

"Well I guess not since I'm here to start my shift." You say with an amused snort. To which Horus copies.

"Really?"

"Can't be late to work if I never left it."

He lets out the most pleasing laugh, "Can you feel your legs?"

"Barely. So..."

"So?" He looks at you smiling.

"That breeding kink huh? You uhhh said some stuff."

"I certainly did say some things." Horus says with a smile as his hands move over your body grabbing the fattier parts with a possessive squeeze. "And I meant what I said."

You swallow as you were just a menial... not any of the pretty noble ladies that you saw in articles being friendly with the gregarious Primarch. You are soon on your back finally seeing the, once more, hard cock for only a moment before he kisses you but you were always a brave one... or perhaps stupid as you speak, "So... you want to start... something with me?"

"Did I lay it on too thick last night?" Horus says with a smile fully knowing what he said.

"Something like that my-" His hand squeezes your cheeks gently.

"None of that. No more hiding behind formality. Its a very easy way to tell you're trying to deflect. Try that again." He says as if he was gently correcting a child.

"I guess it was something like that... almost as if you wanted me for something more than a quick fuck." You force the unsaid words out.

"I do enjoy commitments. They make things more erotic for me."

You hesitate to ask about the wife comments but spin it in a way that might be able to possibly slow down the breed happy Primarch, "I... I suppose I can... um is this a way to ask me to court?"

Horus looked at you for a moment with a blank expression before it turns into his normal confident smile, "Something like that."

[kmt123whatsthetea]

George weasley NSFW alphabet

Kinktober 2023

My laptop has finally been fixed and the fanfic finished. I haven’t been as active as I would like to have been for kinktober but maybe I’ll do some Christmas stuff closer to the time. Anyway, here’s a horny alphabet, have at it

TW: Kind-dom George (I always imagine him being the softer twin, idk why), Breeding kink, implied marking (through biting and spanking etc), mentions of DDLG, choking, mention of sub George, thigh riding

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

George always holds you tight and gives you a million kisses. He’ll always let you know just how good you were and how much of a good girl you are. He will only get out of bed if you ask for something. He won’t let you lift a finger after sex.

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners)

He loves your hips. He loves squeezing them when he stands behind you and he loves placing his hand on your hip when you both go out for the night. He also loves holding your hips when he's burying himself inside of you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s either cumming inside or he’s not cumming at all. He absolutely adores the idea of you being pregnant and the thought of you being swollen with milk leaking from your breasts will make him cum in his boxers like a horny teenager (and then he’ll be all pouty because he didnt cum inside you, but he’d definitely try to collect it on his fingers and stuff it inside of you)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I think his dirty secret would involve him being a bit rougher with you (he gets this idea after seeing you with Fred). He would love to mark you as his, whether it's through bite marks, hand prints, or body writing. If he tries it, he’ll be obsessed with tying you up and writing on your body. He’ll write things like “Dirty whore” “My Bunny” “Cum Dump” “Bite Me” “Breeding Bitch” and anything else that makes his dick hard

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s got quite a bit of experience. Being on the Quidditch team meant that the girls practically threw themselves at him, his brother, and other players. He fucked a few of these girls, picked up a few tricks on how to make a woman very happy. Luckily for you, he puts those tricks to good use every time you both go at it.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Either missionary or cowgirl. He loves watching your face because he can't imagine a prettier sight, but he also loves when you randomly straddle him and start riding him. He will still be somewhat in control (if you haven’t taken control this time).

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He can be, but it all depends on his mood and your mood. There are times when he tries to be goofy to cheer you up and it leads to sex (it's not the same but it's close). There are times when he will crack a few jokes and make smart quips but he only really does this towards the end of having sex when you’re both coming down from your highs.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I feel like he prefers to keep it trimmed and neat. He won't fully shave but he will like to keep it clean and tidy. The carpet definitely doesn't match the drapes. It seems to be the opposite. His hair is long, his down there hair will be short, almost shaven. His hair is short, his down there hair will be about the same length.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Ginger Don Juan. This man is so romantic that his second job would be a poet. He loves taking you to dinner with rose petals and candles. Sex is the same, for sure. On anniversaries, he will go all out with silk sheets and dimmed lights while he slowly fucks into you. He’ll hold you close and make sure you feel so loved. (it doesn't even have to be an anniversary, just when he's in a romantic mood)

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He doesn't jerk off that much, surprisingly. Maybe twice or three times a week. He just doesn’t get turned on that much. But when he meets you, he stops jerking off all together (why would he need his hand when he has your perfect body to play with as he pleases.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Does a praise kink still count if he gets off on giving praise? If so, then he has a praise kink. He has a little bit of a dumbification kink. He loves making you so cock drunk and dumb. He has an edging and overstimulation kink. He adores the way you writhe from being too sensitive and the way you whine when he stops pleasuring you. Teasing, he loves it. It's more of a condescending teasing, like telling you how greedy your pussy is and that you're too dumb to take care of yourself so he has to do it for you. DDLG. he loves treating you like his innocent little girl while you call him daddy.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He isn't one for risks so he prefers anywhere in your flat. He prefers the bed or the bath or the sofa. Maybe he can be persuaded to fuck you against the window overlooking Diagon Alley (I know its risky, but he secretly casts a disillusionment charm and a silencing charm to make you both invisible and silent) poor guy just doesnt want anyone else seeing your tits with a fucked out look on your face

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

When you give him those innocent little doe eyes and say vulgar and dirty things. Coming back to the ddlg kink, he loves when you randomly walk up to him and call him daddy. So random yet so hot. He will drop everything he's doing and carry you to bed.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's against overly hurting you. He’ll spank you and overstimulate you but he'd never slap you across the face or pull your hair too hard. I feel like he'd be against choking you too hard. He doesn't mind wrapping his fingers around your throat but he’ll never go as far as making you dizzy or oxygen starved.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s more of a giving man. He loves the sound you make and the way you feel on this tongue. He adores the feeling of your thighs against his ears and how your legs tremble after you cum against his mouth.

He doesn't mind receiving if it means that he gets to look at your teary eyes as you try to take him all. He’ll tease you by telling you that your mouth is just too small for his big cock and that you need him to train your throat.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be either fast or slow but there's always a sensual element to it. No matter what you guys are doing, he always wants you to feel loved by him. Sometimes he’ll make his pace slow and torturous just to tease you and make you beg.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn’t one for quickies. He prefers to take his time making love to you. Even if he has the time for a quickie, he’ll use that time to give you sweet kisses and promises for a passionate evening. He doesn’t like quickies because he doesn’t think that it's enough time to appreciate your beauty.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

No. even when there's a chance to take a risk, he just doesn't like risks. He's happy to experiment as long as it's not too public and stays within both of your comfort zones. Don't think that he’s predictable, he’ll always find new ways to keep things interesting and new.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

This man has stamina for days. He can last a pretty long time but he will adapt to his partner. Although he likes overstimulating you, he will stop immediately if you even let out the faintest pained sound. He’ll apologise and stop for the night.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He owns a vibrator and that's it. He likes using it on you while fucking you because of the way you feel around him and how wet you get. Sometimes he’ll use it to edge you, but only if he's in a playful mood. He doesn't really like using dildos because he likes how tight you are (it doesnt matter that he fucks you nearly every night, you still feel so tight to him).

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

It really depends on his mood. If he’s in a teasing mood, then you better be in for a long night of being edged and tortured by this ginger sweetheart. If he’s in a romantic mood, then it's completely the opposite and he’ll make you cum as much as you can.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Again, it depends. If you persuade him to be submissive, he will be a loud whiny boy. He is definitely the type who begs for you to touch him and pleads to cum. When he’s in charge, he grunts and lets out breathy sighs.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

If you ride his thigh, he will cum in his boxers. He adores the feeling of your thighs squeezing his and the wet feeling of your cunt soaking through the material. Whether his hands are on your hips guiding you or he’s letting you use his thigh, he’s happy and horny. If he’s wearing his work trousers and you ride his thigh before work, he won't change his trousers. He’s wearing the stains like a badge of honour.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Being a twin, his dick is identical to his brothers. But he does have a few defining characteristics (his dick does anyway). He has one vein that becomes prominent when he's being edged. When you give him oral and focus on that vein (trailing it with your tongue or sucking it) he gets loud.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a high yearning but he pretends that he doesn't so that he can tease you. He loves when you come to him all needy and beg him to touch you but he just carries on with what he was doing. Sometimes his sex drive will wane and he’ll be in more of a mood to cuddle than to fuck but apart from that he has a pretty high sex drive.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He falls asleep after you but there are some occasions where he will fall asleep first. If he’s been submissive and you’ve really taken a toll on him then he’ll be out like a light. But the majority of the time, he will only fall asleep after he’s tended to you.

[altraviolet]

How do you find a character's 'voice'? I have no problem writing OCs, but when it comes to existing characters I get so anxious that I'm mischaracterizing them!

This is a great question! This is definitely something I struggle with sometimes. Here are some of the things I've done to try to keep characterization consistent:

watched a bunch of videos about characterization and the craft of writing

gone back to the canon and reread parts that featured the character you're trying to write

reduced the character to like, ONE descriptor, ONE "essence," if you will. JRO did a great job making very identifiable characters for us. although many of the initial characterizations are modified by the end of the comic, you can still use that "essence". I'll give an ex in a minute but after you identify that "essence," keep it in mind for your character when you write them

when writing from their POV, or from a close third narration (or heck second person talking to them), remember what the character knows. how did they get to the place they are now? what kinds of details in a room would they notice?

This is not all I've done but it would take me SO LONG to put together more points so we'll move on~!

Okay so for more details on the above:

The Essence Thing

I think Ultra Magnus is a really good example of this. We're introduced to him having a very specific outlook on life (we literally see through his eyes in one early panel, it's great). We understand him to be a VERY strict mech who adheres to the Autobot Law to the letter (semi-colon, actually, lol). We see him meticulously arrange and rearrange objects, we see him point out screws that are misaligned by 0.001% (paraphrase, I don't remember the exact wordage). All in all, it's really easy to understand in just a couple of words who he is. Meticulous to a fault. Rodimus distracts him by using bad grammar on purpose.

By the end of the comics, he's loosened up a little. And (SPOILERS for the end of the comics), Megatron telling him to abandon his armor and be true to himself is something he's receptive to. Whereas in the beginning he wore it as somewhat literal armor. And refused to smile.

So what have I done with my fic? Well, it's important to keep in mind that UM isn't going to change all his ways. He won't be as much of a stickler as before, because he's learned to have friends in some capacity, and that's loosened him up a little tiny bit. But he's going to retain that core trait of being really into keeping things neat and tidy. And, the UM that Megatron told to abandon his armor isn't the one that made the jump. So I assumed they had that convo later in their friendship. The TEG UM still has those organized traits (cuz it's funny), but he's not as bad as he used to be.

So hopefully that makes sense. Boil your character down to a trait or two and keep it in mind for everything.

Oh boy the asks are piling up so I'm gonna try to go a bit faster now.

What The Character Knows

Let's do a little thought experiment. Tailgate and Drift walk into a random Autobot bar. What does each mech notice?

If I said one of them quickly identifies friendly mechs and the other one identifies unfriendly mechs, can you tell which did which? Who notices the energon specials and who takes note of the weapons behind the bar? Which one will remember a time he went with his conjunx to a bar and didn't get in a fight? haha

Okay so you can probably guess the answers that I intended for the above! Drift had a hard past, then became a violent Decepticon. Tailgate was asleep for 6 million years and then woke up and befriended a ton of people and had Movie Nights and also some trauma but he never had to fight for his life like Drift did.

So, as you can see, what the character knows (which is informed by their past, their education, their belief systems, the friends they have, the enemies they have, etc) really impacts how they see the world. And you can use that to your advantage by trying to look through their eyes keeping in mind what they know.

Sorry I'm gonna have to end this here, but this is a great topic. I'll try to write more about character voice and POV in the future. If you want to poke me later about it here or on twitter, please do. I will get my thoughts together and also find the links to the videos I've watched :)

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Right, so, I've been seeing some persistent misconceptions in fanfiction where a character has ADHD. I'm a man of color with ADHD and I want to clear some things up. This is specifically about how people tend to write Ed Teach, but it can apply to other characters you're writing with ADHD. And I'd love if other people with ADHD, especially other people of color with ADHD, have any additions to tack on!

These things are NOT what ADHD is.

ADHD does not make you "stupid." This whole thing was inspired because I just read a fic where Ed cites his ADHD as evidence he's "dumber" than the other characters (and this was supported by the writing in the story). There is no correlation between ADHD and intelligence, and we know that Ed is a genius!

ADHD does not automatically mean that someone can't finish school or can't succeed in demanding academic fields. I'm working on my PhD. It just means your character needs coping skills.

ADHD does not mean that someone will "hyperfixate" on or suddenly lose interest in relationships, whether romantic or platonic.

ADHD doesn't mean your character struggles with personal hygeine or keeping their home clean. Please stop making me read fics that characterize a man of color as dirty or incapable of keeping his home clean and excusing it because "he has ADHD!"

ADHD doesn't mean that your character will need someone to look after or supervise everything they do. Ed does not need a White man to take care of him or make sure his work gets done.

ADHD doesn't mean a character will be unable to sit still, focus, stay on-task, or sit in silence 100% of the time. We all have different tolerance levels and those can change depending on current circumstances.

Here are some more realistic, interesting ways ADHD can impact successful, smart characters of color, like Ed.

He might feel the need to be hypercompetent, all the time.

He might get frustrated with himself. ADHD can be frustrating! You can be on top of things 99% of the time at work and school, and have people look up to you, and then you'll realize that you've been forgetting to book that doctor's appointment for six months straight now and you'll feel like a failure.

He might overcorrect symptoms. For example, he might have trouble keeping a neat, organized space and know that messes stress him out, so he overcorrects by being a bit of a neat freak and avoiding mess wherever possible so his space never becomes unmanageable.

He might struggle with The Evil Boredom. That's when you feel super understimulated and nothing is enough to help.

He might have trouble sitting still or saying quiet when he's nervous, feeling strong emotions, or in a boring environment or trying to do a boring task (the scene where Ed struggled with being still and quiet while fishing, while also feeling strong emotions of guilt, was super relatable).

I like to write AuDHD characters (with both autism and ADHD), and it can add a fun new dimension! I personally headcanon Ed as AuDHD. When you have both, symptoms can be frustrating because they can feel contradictory (for example, my autism demands I keep a neat, tidy space and I like routines, but my ADHD means I have trouble keeping things tidy to my standards and routines are super boring).

And finally but crucially: it's obviously okay to headcanon a character as ADHD or with any other neurodivergence when you're White. However, it's important to remember that the experience of neurodivergence looks different for people of color. Boys of color with ADHD, for example, are often overdiagnosed with ODD and labelled as "defiant" or "uncooperative." I often avoid telling White friends and coworkers that I'm AuDHD because it tends to make them infantalize me, as if I haven't already proven to them I'm a capable adult. People of color often have to go undiagnosed or without appropriate medications (if needed) and/or are misdiagnosed. If you're writing about a chracter of color with ADHD, I really recommend finding a sensitivity reader.

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Three

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None

Notes: So sorry last weekend’s chapter was late this week, I’m back to my regularly scheduled posting! I’m so excited so many of you like this series so far!!

Word Count: 1131

Series Masterlist

• January 25, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

My second day at Forks high school started much smoother than the first. It was pretty much uneventful until I decided to eat lunch alone outside on the picnic tables in the quad. It was an overcast day much like all the others and maybe a little chilly, but still decent enough since it wasn’t currently raining. It made for the perfect condition being that no one else really wanted to eat outside.

That is, until I spotted none other than Jasper Hale headed in my direction.

“Mind if I join you?” He asks, pointing to the opposite end of the table I’m currently occupying.

“Not at all.” I respond, idly tidying my area self consciously.

“Sorry, sometimes it’s a little overwhelming inside and I come out here to get away.” He says by way of explanation, laying down the sketch pad he carried with him along with a few pencils and a smudge stick. “Mostly I just come out here to draw uninterrupted.” He sits and flips to an empty page, tilting it a little away from my view.

“I get it, large crowds aren’t my thing either. Plus in the two days I’ve known Emmett I can already tell that he probably creates a hostile drawing environment.” I finish with a light chuckle, turning my attention toward the unfinished apple in my hand.

“You draw too?” He asks, eyebrows lifting as he begins a rough sketch on the blank paper.

“Oh heck no, I don’t have any artistic abilities like that, as much as I wish I did.” I frown, taking a bite of my apple.

“I didn’t think I had it in me either, but I took some classes, watched some videos online, and doodled around a lot. Finally got the hang of it although I still don’t really think I’m that good.” He trails off, concentrating on his pencil strokes. “It helps with the stress though, especially when there’s a lot going on.”

“That is… actually kind of neat. Having an outlet that’s also inspiring, creating art and it centering you in the process.” I muse out loud, watching a face beginning to take shape on his paper.

I’m about to ask who he’s drawing when the bell signaling the end of lunch rings out in the empty air surrounding us. I gather my trash and stand while he tucks his supplies away.

“Thanks for keeping me company today.” I tell him as I gaze into his beautifully golden eyes, not quite ready to part ways with him.

“Thanks for allowing me to disturb your peace and quiet.” And as if reading my mind, “Mind if I walk you to your next class?”

“Oh um, sure.” Trying not to seem too excited by the proposition of spending more time in this gorgeous boy’s presence. I tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear and walk towards him.

“Lead the way, darlin’.” He announces, sweeping his arm in the direction of the main school building, a smirk on his lips.

I laugh and shake my head at his antics, a blush creeping up my cheeks as I walk past him in the direction of my economics class.

Ditching my trash in the trash can as we leave the quad, I miss the way he grins at the accomplishment of making me giggle. I also fail to notice the astounded looks of his adopted siblings as we pass them unaware of their presence through the windows of the cafeteria. Faces reflecting their shocked thoughts at seeing their brother openly flirting with a female compared to his normal stoic facade.

“How did you do it?” Emmett asks, leaning against the locker next to mine.

“Could you be a little more specific?” I ask, a little confused by his blunt question.

“You’ve been here less than a week and my brother is wrapped around your little finger.” He says, holding up his pinky to wiggle in my face.

I laugh and shut my locker, “Emmett, I’ve had all of like two interactions with Jasper, you’re looking into this a little too much.”

“He usually keeps to himself, this isn't the normal Jasper we’re talking about.” He falls into step slightly behind me on my way to the last class of the day, his large build not moving through the throng of students as quickly as I am.

I turn to look at my new friend, “I literally have no clue, it’s probably nothing Em!” My heart picking up speed at just the thought of Jasper. Is he actually interested in me? Is that what Emmett is getting at?

There’s no way, beautiful people like him don’t go for people like me.

I turn and leave Emmett behind in the hallway as students finish rushing through the halls, the tardy bell ringing.

American History, the class I share with Jasper Hale and it also happens to be the last class of the day. Unfortunately though, his assigned seat is on the other side of the room. At least it’s more forward than mine, leaving me to observe him for most of the class period without him seeing.

History is also my worst subject; whether it’s world or US history, I hate it all the same. So many mistakes and atrocities, I wish I could let it flow in one ear and out the other without having to remember it for tests.

Today though, I get the sense our teacher has had a difficult day since he’s decided to let us work together freely. Seeing as I don’t really know anyone yet, I’m forced to work alone.

As if he could feel my discomfort and irritation with the assignment, Jasper Hale appears at the edge of my peripheral vision, claiming the abandoned desk next to mine and turning a few heads of our classmates.

“You’re thinking so loud I could practically hear it from across the room.” He mutters lowly without looking up from his worksheet.

“I’m thinking too loud?” I respond defensively as I cut him a look that would normally skin boys alive.

“Would you like some help or not, doll?” He asks, a grin sliding across his lips as his eyes meet mine in challenge.

“I-uh, I hate history.” I manage to blurt out, a little flustered that he so easily bypassed my frustrated facade without a blink.

“I do want that explanation eventually, but we have work to finish and only,” He breaks eye contact to glance at the clock above the board, “thirty seven minutes left before you’re on your own.”

“Alright Hale, what did you get for number four?” I deflate and accept his offer to save me from the misery of suffering through this stupid assignment alone.

Next

[pinkslavicdoll]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞

𖹭 get your nails done! you can either get them done professionally or you can do them yourself at home. it's fun, it's relaxing and it will make you feel pretty and feminine. if you can't get them done just make sure they're always nice and clean :)

𖹭 wear perfume everyday. smelling good will make you feel better, prettier and more confident. find a scent you can wear everyday and remember that not every perfume has to be saved for a special occasion, life is a special occasion!

𖹭 learn a new language! i don't know what it is but speaking multiple languages makes me feel so smart and feminine. maybe it's because Audrey Hepburn is my biggest inspiration and she was one of the most elegant and feminine women to ever walk the earth. but it's also so much easier to connect with people from other countries and to experience new things. even if you only learn the basics, i can promise you it will be life-changing.

𖹭 be kind, gentle and patient. being nice to people around you, being kind to servers or cashiers will not only make you glow and radiate this sweet, feminine energy, but it will also make this world a better place. now this doesn't mean "let people push you around". stand up for yourself and for others when you have to and don't try to be polite when you feel like it can put you in a dangerous situation.

𖹭 always look put together. you don't have to wear high heels or uncomfortable outfits all the time. clothes can look good and be comfortable! let me bring Audrey Hepburn again, her everyday style was pretty simple - mostly black pants or leggings and a black top with black ballet flats and she looked amazing and elegant.

𖹭 take care of the space around you. keep it neat and tidy, decorate it in a way that makes you happy.

𖹭 take care of yourself! eat well, drink enough water, take care of your physical and mental health. love yourself. do the things that make you happy. surround yourself with your favorite people and enjoy your life.

remember that femininity comes from within. it's your energy and your state of mind. so whatever makes you feel feminine will make you look more feminine ᥫ᭡

[burnyourtrains]

SDV Bachelor/ette Headcanons!!

I was peer pressured by @jessibbb into posting these <3 (also I'm on mobile so if it looks bad no it doesn't.)

ALso divider credits to the lovely @thecutestgrotto and @saradika

Done in alphabetical order, because we're not playing favorites here

Bachelors:

Alex

I feel like he was into band when he was younger and in school, but he got bullied for it, so he switched to gridball instead. He loves gridball, but sometimes he wonders what would have happened if he stuck with the trumpet.

Jess thinks he's short, but I don't think he'd have as much arrogance/confidence that he does in game if he were short. I think he does the hands on top of the doorframe thing.

To me, he was one of those semi-annoying popular guys in high school who would interrupt the class of the younger grade and ask the teacher if she missed him.

Takes skincare seriously (ty Haley)

Helps Evelyn in the kitchen and around the house

Shockingly handy? He's good at fixing things (doesn't want to be a burden on his grandparents, and he knows George feels bad that he can't do maintenance around the house.)

He and Haley have matching friendship bracelets

Elliot

(To the Elliot stans, I'm so sorry, but I cannot stand his character. Initially I was gonna marry him but then he started talking and I just Couldn't. So here's how I thought he was going to be. (I try to keep it somewhat similar to how he is in game but I just,,,,,,,))

Very romantic

Comes on too strong at first, but once he realizes he apologizes and learns how to be one of your really close friends (unless you ever want to be more, obvs)

Loves the drama of a historical romance

Adores Jane Austen

I feel like the game suggests that he isn't very tidy, but in my mind he keeps himself and his space neat and clean. (He might have a depression pit when he's feeling morose or lacking creativity, but he gets it together after a shower or a walk)

He's not egotistical (I also feel the game implies some of this), but he's not entirely humble, either. Very self-assured, but that could possibly be to mask that he really worries about whether or not his writing career will take off.

Harvey

(Jess drew little hearts around my notes for this one lmao)

Actually very sickly as a child, which I think had a huge factor in driving him into medicine.

Likes when the farmer does his nails. It's nice to have someone want to dote on him. (He ends up taking the polish off when he has to work for sanitary purposes, but that just means you can do them again later <3)

Secretly had a piercing at one point, but he was relatively anxious about having it, even though it made him feel good about himself. Possibly anxious because it didn't fit his "image"; he doesn't have it anymore. (He was So crazy in college literally what was he thinking??????) (it was a bellybutton piercing btw)

His guilty pleasure food is ice cream don't tell

Podcast lover. (Mainly medical and aerospace)

Sam

Mans has a mullet. I will not be accepting arguments at this time

He doesn't have a favorite color, but he really loves bright ones

Definitely has ear and possibly facial piercings

Idk where I'm getting this from, it's kind of based solely on vibes, but I feel like he might be colorblind?

Loves having his makeup done

Wears minimal jewelry, but is always wearing at least one ring, whether that's on a chain or on his finger depends on the day.

Sebastian

He gets called emo but I get more punk vibes from him

When you meet him he's just starting on his second sleeve tattoo

He uses candy cigarettes when he's trying to quit smoking, partially because he thinks it's funny, and partially just because he likes the sugar

I think he feels very stuck in the persona the town has given him, so he kind of just gives up after living there for so long on trying to convince people otherwise

Ear and eyebrow piercings, at least. Very willing to accept constructive criticism here.

Probably has the chain belt thing

Rings rings rings

Shane

I feel like he's either very tall, or very short, and I cannot decide which one

Cleans up very nice after he gets sober

Raises Jas more than Marnie does (Concerning bc alcoholism, but I can't stand Marnie so. The lesser of two evils I guess?)

Regularly takes walks to ward off dark thoughts

Keg king back in his college days

Bachelorettes

These are more look-based, since Jess and I were trying to do a redesign situation. The men I was struck with sudden inspiration and clarity for how to flesh out their personalities more, but I'll have to update the character work for the women when the creativity strikes.

Abigail

I kind of get undercut vibes from her

I think she has gages, for sure

Facial piercings but idk what most of them are called. Specifically a lip piercing

She has a small stick and poke that she, Sam, and Seb designed together

The big overlined lips that were popular in 2020 (might still be popular now but I'm no longer chronically online God bless)

Tattoo choker that was popular in the early 2000s

Big shaggy wolfcut

Elevated HotTopic vibes

Emily

Mixed metal jewelry queen

Wears multiple necklaces

Hippie-esque style (they really did her dirty with her game design she looks like s clown but she's so sweet that it's Criminal)

Crystal girly (a given)

Definitely has some sort of altar set up. Idk much about witchcraft so very loosely assigning her as a crystal witch

Really likes incense

Alice Cullen haircut, y'all know the one

Haley

She has such pretty lashes, I just know it

Big yabos

Her nails are always immaculate. Despite thinking her sister is weird, I think Emily is the one who learned how to give her acrylics

Alex is definitely the person she's closest to

I don't really have that many ides for her I'm sorry :(

Leah

Very wispy, ethereal hair (1908s aogg vibes)

Former hairdresser. While she still lived in the city, she went into cosmetology since it had the opportunity to be a creative career, and her partner at the time didn't really support her in her art (I think the partner bit is canon). Ultimately, she came to resent her job, and she left the city for Stardew Valley. I think she still uses the skills and knowledge she acquired when doing her own hair, and occasionally the hair of some of the residents in the valley.

Howl's Moving Castle earrings

Honestly Howl's Moving Castle vibes overall for her style I think

Dresses masc. but in a way that still comes off as feminine, if that makes sense. Think billowy white shirt from the male lead of a period drama

Most likely covered in some sort of art medium, (acrylics, wood shavings, oil paints, etc.), in a charming way, not an unclean way.

Maru

Minimal makeup, if any at all

She has cute little stud earrings she got as a kid (they're stars)

Has an astronomy charm bracelet, but it's only worn on special occasions. I think she'd be wearing it when she shows you the telescope and tries to confess her feelings for the first time.

She's a silver girly

Little baby hairs. Give my girl Maru better hair

Lowkey loves Hello Kitty (idk where this one came from but I feel it)

Penny

Bumper bangs. In general I get very 50s vibes for style

Doesn't think she'll ever leave Stardew Valley, so she doesn't really have any huge aspirations for herself anymore.

She mostly invests herself in teaching Vincent and Jas to the best of her ability.

Would have loved to be a teacher if she were to leave, but she worries about her mother, so she's never left

I know there are some ideas on here that seem insubstantial compared to others, but this is the best I can do currently! I'd love feedback, since I'm relatively new to the fandom and the game, but I hope you enjoyed!!

[chaosduckies]

Friends In Small Places (Chapter 1)

The size shifter story is finally here! This is more of a slightly sad piece, even though this first chapter isn’t really all that gloomy and monochrome, I actually have this entire plot line planned out and everything, and whew is the ending going to be something.

But I hope you enjoy! (this chapter is mainly just for introductions so I’m sorry if there really isn’t anything interesting TwT)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Depression, major anxiety, slight gore warning? (Though nothing actually happens)

1-Liam

Today the main hall was bustling with people crowding the board that had all of the activities and clubs posted on. Most of the time people didn’t care all too much about it, only the people who were actually in those clubs, but today was different for some reason. Fitting in between the seemingly hundreds of people, I saw what the commotion was all about. The psychology classes were all being called to a meeting at four. Which was when most classes ended, but still. It’s rare that this school ever calls meetings. It just so happens that I was taking psychology though. 

I sighed, moving back on the free sidewalk get to the library. A friend was waiting for me to help her study for a test she had in just a few hours. I thought I might as well help seeing that I’ve already taken the course. I used to think that college was extremely strict from how my old high school teachers described it, but in reality it’s not that hard when you just take the time to study and take a few practice tests the day before one. It was just two-and-a-half years before I major in psychology and become a therapist. Well, that was my dream anyways. In this world, it was a lot harder given that most therapists get assigned to a size shifter. That was something I didn’t want to do. Well, maybe if it was one who could only shrink, but that’s maybe it. It freaks me out knowing that there are some shifters who could be as tall as a small skyscraper, and some even bigger. A shiver ran down my spine even thinking about it. But that won’t happen. 

Among the few people sitting at the quiet tables lines with pencils, a few pieces of notebook paper, and a lamp that barely even worked, there was a girl waving her arms around aimlessly trying to gain my attention. I laughed softly before walking and sitting down next to her. It seemed she had been here for hours with how she kept her space. Papers spewed all across with scribbled down notes that was barely even legible, colored pens in a mixed mess with her other writing supplies. It made you wonder how she had even made it to college. 

“I see you’ve been hard at work, Rhya.” I set my slightly heavy bag down and started attempting to clean up the vast sums of paper all over the desk and try to keep her notes in order. 

“Yeah well, not everyone can be all neat and tidy as you are.” She lightly elbowed me before grabbing the stack of papers in my hand and shoving them in a folder. I guess she was going to re-do them after all. Either that or she didn’t need them. Despite this being primarily a nursing and health school, Rhya was in the art department. Of course she had to take the core classes along with her own elective, but she plans on becoming a graphic designer. 

“It’s not my fault I know how to study and you don’t.” I joked around, watching her pull out her computer and grab a few empty pages on notebook paper and her calculus book. 

“And it’s not my fault you don’t know how to have any fun.” She stuck her tongue out playfully before pulling up a practice test. 

“Hey I know how to have fun, just not when I know I have better things to worry about.” She solved the first problem right, pumping her fist up in the air as she wrote down the question and highlighted everything she needed to do. I’m also guessing she planned to study whatever notes she was making. 

“I guess you have a point. How’s that psychology major coming along?” She had asked, writing down the problem and attempting to solve it. I sighed, pointing to the number she was missing, “You square root that,” Rhya groaned, “It’s going good. We have some kind of weird meeting later today though.” 

“Oh? Do you know what about?” Rhya asked, but I could tell she was hiding something from me. She knew something. 

“No. Do you?” I skeptically looked at her, earning a side eye right back as she had paused her writing for a moment. 

“Would you believe me if I said no?” She grumbled, I shook my head, a slight smile forming on my face. She knew I would win this argument. 

“Okay well, this might not be true, but I heard that a few psychology students were chosen to have a training. Like, the real deal kind of thing. Size shifter and all. That the ones chosen were supposed to act like one of those special therapists.” My heart nearly skipped a beat at the news. Where did she even hear this from in the first place? There’s no way that’s even real. 

“You’re kidding, right?” I laughed nervously. Even if it was true, I doubt they’d choose a sophomore. I’ve only really had a few practices and I still have a couple more years until I become the real deal. 

“Would I lie to you?” She turned to me, a worried look on her face. Did she think I would have to go through with that? I sincerely doubt it. There was no way they’d put me on whatever list they have going on. Maybe my upperclassman though. They could choose Chelsey, she was really good with everyone and a senior. They’d most likely choose her. Maybe even Ryan since he was really experienced. Actually, he was a size shifter himself, but he’s so good at controlling his emotions that he doesn’t even need to worry about accidentally shooting up a couple feet. 

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I doubt they choose someone with barely any experience. Don't’ worry about it.” I smiled, pointing back to Rhya’s computer to tell her that she needed to get to studying and stop worrying about me. Seriously, she really needed to study otherwise she was going to fail. I can almost guarantee that she’ll be crying to me later when she fails her test. Not my fault she doesn’t study. 

——————

The gym was a large space, but our entire class only took up one tiny portion of the bleacher space as our instructor and several other people dressed up in fancy suits were talking on the ground. I sat next to Ryan, who was playing with the green-colored band on his wrist, showing that he was in one of the five classes of size shifters. Purple represented that they could shrink down to an inch or maybe even smaller if their emotions had the better of them. Blue represented that they could shrink too, but not as much as the one’s with a purple wrist. Green represented that they could both shrink and grow, but only to a certain height. Yellow meant that the shifter could grow to be the size of about a small building, or maybe even a little more depending on how they’re feeling. Red was by far the worst one. To me at least. The shifter’s with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Which was why all shifters with a red band were all forced to be with a specialized therapist for only them. Because if they lose control of their emotions, it could end pretty badly.  

“I’m glad you all saw the announcement on the board. I’m a little surprised really.” Mr. Smith shoved his hands in his front pant pockets, taking a look at all of us before his eyes laid on me, smiling warmly. Why? Something was up. 

“These two gentlemen here are the head of the SSU. Also known as the company that helps size shifters in need. Recently, there has been a shortage of individuals that are willing to work with shifters in helping them control themselves. These two are on the look for candidates-in-training to help fill those missing spots.” 

The two men in suits walked to the front, holding out a clipboard. Those had whoever was going to be picked for this. But why this school? There was another college not too far from here. They could choose from them. Unless they were, and the “tiny” shortage was actually a big one. Or… no. They wouldn’t do that, right? It’s the SSU, they’ve literally helped the world become safer for decades. They wouldn’t be doing an experiment, would they? 

“It’s wonderful to see all sixty-two of you young scholars gathered here today. As your professor already said, we are both from the head office at SSU looking for the best of the best to fill in those empty spots, regardless if you do or don’t have any experience.” That last part made a shiver run down my spine. Ryan turned his head to me, patting me on the back. There was no way they’d choose a nobody like me. No way in hell. 

“This list contains twenty of you who will be taking part in this. You will be in charge of taking care of your designated partner until we can find a professional replacement suited well enough to take over. If I call your name, please stay behind after we dismiss everyone.” The tall man smiled, looking down at the clipboard and calling several names. The anxiety pricked my skin like icicle shards, it had almost seemed like the man reading off names was speaking in slow motion. A few deep breaths, and it was back to normal. 

“Ryan Wright.” He smiled while earning several compliments and congratulations from his fellow classmates. 

“Chelsey Torres.” She giggled a few seats away from us. 

“And Liam Rover.” 

My muscles tensed up at the mention of my name. I couldn’t tell if my heart had stopped or if it was just beating horrifyingly fast. I could tell people were trying to praise me, but I couldn’t hear, their appraisal only reaching my ears in a muffled and slow manner. I managed the most sincere smile I could while trying to hide how much I was trembling. Maybe this would be okay? Maybe I’ll be lucky and not be paired up with a shifter who could potentially crush me between two if their fingers if they really wished to. Was the room cold or was it just me? 

“Everyone else may head to their dorms. Thank you for coming.” 

After everyone had filed out of the empty gym, the other shorter man dressed in an identical suit as the taller one started calling out our names all over again, handing them a red folder with presumedly the shifter we’ll be assigned. Was this how it was when you’re actually a professional? You just get assigned to one? You don’t get to know them or anything? 

Once I was handed my folder, I dreaded every single second of opening it. Please let it be easy, please let it be easy, please let it be eas-

Oh. 

It was only a picture of who we were partnered up with and anything that might be worth mentioning about them. Wow was I overreacting. Then again, that didn’t exactly smoothen out the anxiety that was still pricking at my skin. Though, this shifter didn’t seem so bad. If anything, he actually looked pretty nice. The only thing I had noticed was that he was diagnosed with depression. He kind of looked like it too if I were being honest. It seemed hard for him to smile for the picture. Why did I also get the hint that he wasn’t feeling very good either? I guess I’ll find out when we officially meet. 

“Inside you’ll find who your partner will be for the foreseeable future. You’ll still be coming to your classes, which was why we mainly wanted to stick with the upperclassmen, and afterward go back to where we are currently housing your designated shifter. You have three days to pack everything you need and want, and you’ll soon be living off campus. Just think of it was having a roommate that needs constant supervision.” 

Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I’m almost entirely confident that this shifter won’t really be a big deal. I mean, he looks about a year or two younger than me. So he just graduated high school? Agh, I have no idea. I’m just jumping to conclusions. But, hopefully they won’t make me handle anything crazy. That I can’t do. 

——————

They were driving me across the city to go meet up with the shifter I’ll be taking care of for however long. For all I know it could be a few days or weeks. I would think someone would want to step up for the job instead of letting students do this, but I guess not. Chelsey and Ryan have texted me a few times that they were getting settled in already while I was still heading over. It was already around thirty minutes just to get across the place, so that means I’ll have to take a bus almost everyday just to make it to my classes. That’s just great, but I’m in no position to complain. I actually tried talking with Professor Smith about it, but he told me that he had no say in the matter at all, which was weird. I doubt he would want his younger students to even take part in this. 

Along the streets were the many, many buildings that both accommodated for humans and their much larger or smaller companions. Although I’ve only ever been around Ryan about twice when he’s giant, it really wasn’t that bad. He can only grow till someone was like the height if his entire hand so it really wasn’t even that bad. Of course it’s still nerve-racking, but I trust him. Plus, we were at a small party with our little friend group. I doubt he could even bring himself to hurt someone. So really I wasn’t too worried. The only other shifter I’ve been around is an old high school friend of mine, but she goes to a different college now. 

Hundred of houses passed by us as we drove into a little neighborhood. What really made me worried was that the driver wasn’t exactly stopping at the normal-sized houses. Where was he going? I watched grimly as some of the huge houses we passed by came to a halt to one on the very end of one of the many streets. This one wasn’t as big as the other one’s down the street, but it wasn’t exactly small either. At least to me. So… I was paired up with a shifter who could only grow. That’s great. Just… great. 

I grabbed my bag and the small suitcase I had brought with me that was just full of my clothes and some stuff for school. Well if I’m supposed to stay here almost all of the time now I have to find something to keep me busy. And apparently from the immense size difference that will be between my new roommate and I. Of course I was terrified! If he really is diagnosed with depression and was a shifter who grew that only made matters worse for me. I hope whoever plans to take over for me does it soon. 

It took me and the driver to reach the doorstep, but eventually the driver gave it a knock. I swear I could hear some mumbling coming from the other side, but I didn’t dwell too much on that. Most.y because the extremely large door started to open slowly, but I saw no one on the other side. Maybe he was shy? 

“Well I may take my leave, though I have been ordered to tell you that a bus comes in the morning at around 6 just down the street from here, and another will take you back here around 5 and 8. Also, if anything goes wrong, to call this number on your phone.” He handed me a folded slip of paper, then took his leave. I shoved the slip in my pocket, hesitantly taking a few steps into the huge house. 

It was neatly cleaned around the place, though I couldn’t really see from my view on the ground. Everything around me was huge. I mean I’ve been to one of the rooms on the bigger side of the campus, but those rooms were smaller. It’s not an entire house filled with furniture. 

As I took a few steps out more, I jumped when the door had lightly closed behind me. My eyes trailed up and up, finding the face of the person I had seen in the picture. His eyes grew wide when I met his gaze, then bit the bottom of his lip before sliding his back against the wall behind him. 

Everything in my body told me to run, but if I did then I would only get scolded for it later. This isn’t even what I wanted to be! I wanted to be a normal therapist that helps regular adults and kids feel better. Not a human who could easily trap me in a fist and just kill me. I would have been fine if they could only shrink, but this was much worse. 

I faced down, taking a few deep breaths that barely even help me in this situation. I had to take care of someone fifty times my own size? How was that even possible? There weren’t even any smaller sized things around this place. Nothing that could help me get around easier either! 

I guess I could attempt to get his name. I mean, nothing could go wrong then, right? Just maybe from a distance… even if he could, at any point in time, just grab me whenever he so wanted. I felt sick just thinking about being held. Wouldn’t I have to be though? I can’t exactly just climb everywhere I want to go. 

“H-hi. Um, I’m Liam.” I forced myself to walk closer, even under his gaze, but I stopped walking closer when he moved himself further in the corner, looking a bit saddened. He probably knew I was scared. Maybe. I hope I’m some-what hiding it well enough. Though, I’ve never really been that good at it. 

“Oh, um, C-Casper. You can call me Cas if you want.” He kept his voice to a very quiet whisper. So he knew that if he talked too loud it would hurt my ears. At least he’s self-aware. Though, I couldn’t help but feel bad. I may be utterly terrified of him, but I mean he hasn’t really given me a reason to be truly scared, yet. 

“Nice to m-meet you, Cas.” I put on my best fake genuine smile. What? Have to find some way to convince him I wasn’t scared. Even if my body was trembling like crazy and my heart threatened to just come right out of my mouth. 

“Y-you too, sir.” His hand slightly twitched, but he just shook his head, giving me a sad look. ‘Sir?’ Why did he call me that? I didn’t dwell on it. Instead, I turned to look at the place, not finding a place to put my stuff. I sighed, hurrying to place it up against the wall opposite of Cas. This would be fine. Yeah, yeah. 

Casper, overall, seemed pretty nice. He had a black, messy hair that complimented his light-brown eyes. He wore a baggy long-sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans I have no idea why he was just wearing jeans in his own house, but it’s whatever he wants to do. Not my place to comment. The only real thing that caught my attention were the light bags in his eyes. Has he been sleeping? 

“Did you want to come here? Like, willingly?” He had asked, slightly leaning a little closer to my spot in the middle of the floor. I admit, it made me a little uneasy, but I don’t think he realized it. It just made it really hard to answer his question when all I could think about was how easily he could kill me right now. He wouldn’t do that, right? He seems so nice. Even if I’m barely two inches to him and I could easily just be crushed or accidentally killed if he wasn’t being too mindful. I shuddered at the thought, but forced my voice to work with me. 

“I-I’m just a student at a college. They just told us we were going to help out shifters, for like, real-world training I guess.” I started speaking a little fast and I could hear my voice slowly get quieter the more Cas seemed to lower his body to me. I felt so small compared to him. It’s overwhelming really, but it’s not like I can just back out. I already asked and they said if I did then I wasn’t cut out to stay in the classes. Seriously, all I wanted was to either be a therapist or a social worker. Not take on these huge responsibilities of making sure an entire living being is doing okay and doesn’t have any malicious intent to just… Aghhhh. 

“Oh. Well, I’m not exactly the best person to be paired up with.” He laughed sadly, holding up his wrist and revealing a red band. A little squeak left my mouth as I stood in place, practically frozen in fear. Why did they pair me up with him? They gave me more than I can handle. There was no way I could do this. I bit the side of my cheek, struggling to keep my composure. 

Cas caught onto my fear, scooting as far away from me as he could while making sure I wouldn’t freak out. Why did he move away? I was going to be fine. I think- But I was okay. Just as long as I keep a certain distance from him for a while. It takes me a long time to adjust to new things, and this might take me a while, but I couldn’t just do nothing. It was obvious to me that Cas was afraid of something, I just couldn’t figure out what just yet. 

“I’m fine, Cas, I promise.” I nervously smiled, hiding how terrified I was. Shifters with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Great. Seriously, what have they done? They think I can handle someone who already looks like he’s struggling to keep himself together just by meeting me? I didn’t really want to find out what would happen if he doesn’t contain his emotions. Was there a person partnered up with him before? I knew I wasn’t going to be getting any answers, but there was no harm in asking them. 

“O-Okay,” He whispered, getting in a more comfortable sitting position, “Are you sure though? I don’t mind giving you an hour or two to get used to… everything.” He looked away for a second, and I could tell something was on his mind. Along with the constant moving away every time I had tried to walk closer, or when he knew I was scared of him, I would think to say that he’s scared of himself. Or, at least hurting other people. It makes sense actually. I’ve heard stories that a lot of shifters realize that they can really hurt people and just try their hardest not to interact with people smaller than themselves. It’s like they collapse on themselves since they don’t want to hurt anyone. I guess Cas and I weren’t so different. 

“Okay, look, it’s obvious that you’re more afraid of yourself than I am of you,” Cas’s eyes widened, “How about we both try to help each other out? I’ll keep trying if you do.” I held out my hand without thinking. A compromise between the two of us. I know we both met like five minutes ago, but I’m pretty sharp for people my age with little experience. But, honestly, maybe this wasn’t so bad. I think all that Cas wanted was the relief that he won’t hurt people. Or something like that. 

“You’d go through with all that? I’m not exactly mentally stable.” I could tell that he was worried, but I just nodded my head, a genuine smile on my face that I hoped he could see. 

He eyed my hand for a while, and I still hadn’t realized what was wrong until he lightly pinched my hand between the tip of his pointer and thumb, barely even lifting it up and down for my own sake. Oh he has no idea how scared I was right now, but he didn’t have to know that. Just a little more pressure and he could just yank my arm right off-I shook that thought away. Don’t think about that right now. It would be okay. Just as long as I get an idea of what to do when he does eventually lose control or something. I had zero idea. I think the thought that stuck in the back of my mind was making me more worried than anything really. I’m just a stress toy for him. But I’ll just have to get over my fear. There was no way I would let this stop me from graduating. Not in a million years.

——————

Sorry for a slightly boring chapter! I did a LOT of world building for this one, and had to map out almost every single interaction through the course of the entire story plot. There also wasn’t much g/t but again, it’s just an introduction chapter. (I’m doing what I love and no one can stop me hehehe-)

But I hope you enjoyed reading! I promise the second chapter will have a much, much better g/t interaction. (Oh trust me it will >:3) I hope you all have a great day/night!

[loliwrites]

November: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

part four of fountain of sorrow

pairing: javier peña x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  warnings/tags: set between s2 & s3, early/mid ‘90s, single mother [reader has a young daughter][child won’t play a massive role], sassy chucho, chickens, brief discussion of past physical abuse [not graphic], javi being a good girl dad, SMUT, fingering, mild exhibitionism, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, subtle declarations of love-ish, post-sex photos, female reader, no physical description, girl dad!javi, soft!javi, protective!javi, no use of y/n. word count: 8.0k series masterlist a/n: ALL CAPS EXCITEMENT

Javi combed his hair in his normal style, then inspected his mustache, making sure it looked neat and tidy. He ran his hand over his mouth and then jostled his shoulders. A quick glance in the mirror and a swipe at an errant wrinkle on his button down shirt. The last time he’d been on a proper date… well he ventured to figure that was way back when with Lorraine. A little out of practice here, which somehow felt even stranger considering he was so well practiced with the sex that usually came after proper dates.

He’d only just flicked off the bathroom light when the knock at his door came and was paid little attention. Probably just a neighbor. The more who knew he was back in town, the more came over to ask a favor or rehash the miserable past. So he paid the second round of knocking even less attention than the first. Surely they’d get the hint and move on. Leave him alone.

“Javier! Abre la puerta, pendejo!”

No one more than his father loved to call him that. And hearing Chucho’s increasingly frustrated grumbles, Javi rushed to the door and yanked it open just as equally frustrated as his father. “What?”

“That’s how you greet your father now?” Chucho pushed past Javi and entered the house mumbling under his breath, “cabrón.” Then, as if it had taken him a few extra seconds to realize his son looked more put together than usual, he spun around and eyed Javier. His eyes flicked up and down to inspect him. “Where’re you going?”

“What do you need, dad?”

Chucho smirked and folded his arms over his chest. “My boy’s got a girlfriend, don’t he?”

“Dad,”

“Who’s she? Do I know her?”

“Do you need something? I have to leave,”

“Came by to say you’re off the hook on helping me with the chicken coop on Saturday. Throwin’ a pre-Thanksgiving barbecue.”

“Great,” Javi tried to usher Chucho back toward the door.

Chucho complied but not without his own ace up his sleeve, “bring the girl that’s put’ya in such a stellar mood. And before you say no, I’ll make you fix the coop by yourself if you don’t.”

“She’s kind of busy on the weekends,”

“Figure it out, son.”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

You stared at yourself in the mirror, trying not to focus too much on all the things you thought were out of place. You knew in actuality they weren’t. It was your brain nitpicking. And for what? It wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d be seeing you. And clothed no less! Four months of near constant sex over the weekends mixed with long weekdays of enduring solitude and loneliness. But since Javi had brought up the idea of an actual date, there’d been two sides of you tugging against each other. The one side that was excited to see what this meant in terms of what was happening between you two. You hadn’t thrown dating seriously off the table completely, you just didn’t think you’d do that with him. Which is exactly where the other half of you stepped in. The half that was sure Javi wasn’t the person to get serious with. Keep him under the cloak of darkness.

And life had given you unexpected time to dwell on it. Because after it was floated as an idea you had a buffer week of you being busy with Halloween plans. And then the following week Lily was home from school with the flu. The week after that, you’d picked up the nasty bug courtesy of her. By that point, Javi realized waiting for a free weekend from you was costing him more time – at least as a date went. He still got to see you those nights for sex. So he pitched a weeknight date. After work, drop the muñequita off with your mom, and he’d pick you up from there.

“He’s here!” Your mom called out from the other room. You gave yourself one more parting glance before exiting the bathroom. “Why are his pants so tight?”

“Mom,” you tilted your head to the side and complained. It was giving you flashbacks from high school. Back when she’d interrogate your suitors like you assumed a father would, had yours stuck around. But that was all you managed to say before you kissed the head of your little angel who was busying herself with a coloring book. “I won’t be back too late. Probably ten or so,”

She nodded and waved her hand at you. Don’t worry about it. Go have yourself a fun night. And with one last grateful smile at her, you pulled the front door open and slipped out of it just in time to intercept Javi as he was coming up the driveway. He looked just as good as ever. Almost made you sad you’d be in public tonight. And though he looked the same, he was holding a small bouquet of flowers in front of him, and that was new. A little more thoughtful than most gestures from him.

“You look great,” he smiled and leaned in for an immediate kiss. 

You reciprocated instantly, feeling an innate sense that your mom was most definitely looking out the front window, watching you. So you pulled away and looked down at your outfit after a quick, chaste peck. “Yeah? Are those for me?”

“Yeah,” he grinned and handed the bouquet over.

You fondled the delicate petals before burying your nose in them. A surprisingly nice scent, and also surprisingly, not some filler flower. You wouldn’t have expected a guy like him to have good taste. “Let me put these inside. I’ll be right out, then we can go,”

He nodded though you’d already turned away from him, heading back for the house. And seeing as though it wasn’t at all an invitation, Javi stood in place and looked around awkwardly, pushing his hands into his pockets, awaiting your return.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

If there was any part of you that thought the awkwardness would dissipate once at dinner, you were sorely, sorely mistaken. It all remained as if both of you were unsure of who the other person was, what the intention was… and you knew he was picking up on it, too. The way his cheeks grew red whenever he accidentally interrupted you. The way that redness progressed to his ears when he said something that might’ve been a little off-color given your date taking place in what could be described as Laredo’s nicest restaurant.

You’d run the gamut of small talk. Things that were absolutely asinine given the fact that he’d already been inside you. How was the muñequita doing? How was work? What’d you study in school? You figured driving your fork into your eyeballs would’ve been less painful. The wine he ordered hadn’t helped either. And just when you started to think there wasn’t anything here other than a sexual connection between you, the waiter dropped an unexpected dessert on the table between you. A small piece of chocolate cake, garnished with fudge and raspberries. You didn’t know it at the time, but that cake was your saving grace. Whether it was the chocolate, the raspberries, the fact that it was a giant plate of aphrodisiacs, or if Javi just got it in his head that what was happening was ridiculous, he finally spoke up.

“What the fuck’s going on?”

You choked on a raspberry and looked up at him. It wasn’t accusatory. More of just a statement acutely aware of the situation. And it lifted a massive weight off your shoulders and chest. “It’s weird, right?”

He shoved another forkful of cake into his mouth, “we’re so good at fucking, how can we be so bad at this?”

“We should be good at this!”

“We should be great at this!” He agreed, setting his fork down on the plate, effectively leaving the rest to you.

“So make it better,”

And that made Javi smile. The smile you were used to seeing. The one that was way too charming for his own good. Way too charming for your own good. He reached out across the table, palm upright. It struck you as odd that despite having gone through the entire meal, this was the first time he was making an effort at physical contact. Feeling like this might be the last thing you both needed to be at complete ease, you wasted no time in resting your hand in his, fingers intertwining and squeezing together.

“Maybe we should actually get to know each other. I mean, about things other than what gets you off,” he smirked and you sensed the real, true Javi coming back to you. “What’s your story? No one chooses Laredo just because,”

You nodded and set your fork down, buying yourself a little bit of time. You knew this story would require you to bring up your daughter’s father, but you also knew that if you expected him to be forthcoming with the questions you were bound to ask, you’d need to give him something. Like this. 

“My ex, but then boyfriend, got a job in town and I thought we were in love. Because I’m an idiot. So I followed him out here. And about three months later, I’m knocked up, trying to get him to not be an asshole and failing. And the muñequita, as you like to call her, was about a month old when a judge told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t enough to raise a child. That she would do best in proximity to her father. What that judge knew and didn’t care to take into consideration with his final decision, was that her father’s not actually a good person. While he hasn’t ever laid a hand on her, the same can’t be said for his hands on me.” As the words came out of your mouth, they sounded so foreign to you. They were said with such little emotion. So matter of fact. You’d already cried all the tears you had to offer. They hadn’t done you any good back then and they wouldn’t do you any good now. “So I’m stuck in Laredo for a while. Until he proves to be even more of an asshole than he already is. Or until she turns eighteen.

“It’s not all that bad,” you smiled. “I mean it’s not great, but there are upsides. My mom moved from Corpus Christi to be closer and help. So I see her more now than I ever did in San Antonio. And I like my job, clerking. Probably would’ve never got the chance to do it in a bigger city. And honestly… I love your dad.”

“There’s no way my dad’s your plus to Laredo,” Javier grinned, a blush rising in his cheeks.

You giggled and nodded, wrapping your other hand around his so now it was fully encompassed in your grip. “He is. He’s the type of dad I wish I had. The type of dad I wish my daughter had,” you caught Javi’s glance and squeezed his hand. “You know he stands up for me when I’m at the bar? He stands up for all the girls, but I like to think he likes me most,”

“You’re certainly the only one he calls chiquita,”

“He’s a good man,”

Javi leaned back in his chair with a whistle through his teeth. “Then you’ll be glad to know you’re invited to his Thanksgiving barbecue this Saturday. And you don’t have the option to decline, unfortunately. Mostly because you declining means I have to do ranch work.”

“Back up. Explain, Peña,” you released his hand and grabbed your wine glass for a long sip. Chances were you weren’t drunk enough for this.

“He’s throwing a barbecue and insisted I bring the woman I’ve been seeing. Been wondering why I don’t go to the bar with him anymore. Never answer his calls on this weekends. Saw me all fixed up tonight before I went to pick you up. Figured I must shacked up with someone. So… I’m so glad you love him because you have to go,” 

“You know I work weekends,”

“It’s during the day,”

You pursed your lips together, squinting as if weighing your options, “I’ll go if you answer one question,” you smirked. This was your moment to get the answer to the question you’d been asking him for months. “Why’d you leave Colombia?”

Javi’s eyes quickly averted back to the half-eaten dessert between you two. He cleared his throat and pressed his forearms on the table to drag himself more upright. Closer to you now, using it to be able to keep his voice low, lest nosy locals be around. He gave you more of an answer than you ever expected him to. He told you all about Pablo Escobar and the others that made up the Medellín cartel. He gave you details about the violence they were capable of. He explained the delicate spider web of egos that made up the DEA, cartel, and communist guerillas. And how any little fracture or splinter to the egos of the drug lords or communists meant that his life and the lives of other agents were at greater risk. And he gave you all of that explanation and backstory before he got to answering your question. About how he’d skirted around laws to rally the guerillas into an unrestrainable and unmanageable murderous vigilante group, Los Pepes. And then how he flat out ignored the laws and the ambassador. How Los Pepes was a little too good at their job. How he, and the DEA, and CIA knew he’d gotten in way too far over his head and one day they’d be coming after him. And suddenly the thing he’d worked years for – the thing they were so close to he could taste it – was stripped away from him. Catching Pablo Escobar would be someone else’s headline.

And you wanted to… cry for him. For the pain he’d endured, physically and otherwise. For the things he had to witness, whether he’d signed up for it or not. For all the things he’d worked so hard for in his career and would never get the chance to see through. You figured it was where he put all his love. All the genuine love and care that he hadn’t been able to give to a romantic partner, he’d given to his work.

So that’s why how ended up here. Walking up the drive to Chucho’s long, one story ranch house. One hand clutching Javi’s and the other holding that of your daughter’s. Bringing her along hadn’t been the original plan. Hadn’t even been in your wildest dreams until your mom called the afternoon before and said she was going back home, to Corpus Christi, to visit her sister who’d taken a fall. She didn’t want to leave you in a bind… didn’t want you to have to rely on your baby daddy more… but she had to go. And you knew you were already going to have to pawn her off on her dad tonight while you were at The Tack Room, so wanting to limit her time with him as much as possible, you asked Javi if she could come along. Actually, you sprung it on him as he was standing at your front door. Pouted your lips and batted your biggest, saddest eyes at him, hoping it’d be enough to convince him. What you didn’t know was that he didn't need to be convinced. All you had to do was say the word and you’d get whatever you wanted. No questions asked.

Javier wondered what his dad would say when he saw you walk into the backyard with him. And what he’d think about your daughter tagging along. Figured he’d get a good laugh out of it. Out of his son being father-like. Gentle to a little girl that wasn’t his. Javier hoped part of his dad would be proud. He’d prepared himself that this would be your launch to his dad and a few of his friends. What he hadn’t been prepared for was that it’d be your launch to practically everyone in the neighborhood. He heard the Spanish music first; so loud on the radio that he figured the speakers were straining beneath the reverberation. Beneath the guitar and lyrics was the hum of chatter of the neighbors. Some he could point out definitively as he opened up the side gate and escorted you and the muñequita into the yard. Miss Rosalia and her uninhibited, thundering laugh. She was almost as old as Chucho and had spent many nights in her younger years watching over Javi until he was old enough to look after himself. Pancho’s grandkids – Lily and Jason – their high pitched squeals of delight. Which meant their parents, Pancho’s daughter Maria and her gringo husband Michael were surely around too. Yet through all the noise and the mass of people in the yard, Javier found the sight of his father at first glance. On the patio, cowboy hat low on his head, glasses even lower down the bridge of his nose, popping the caps off a couple Modelos.

It was like they were magnets attuned to each other because no sooner than you followed Javi’s gaze toward his father, you found that Chucho was already looking back at the both of you. And before you knew it, Javi was tugging your hand forward, taking you in tow with him. Weaving through the partygoers, you garnered looks from the majority of them… mostly the women, whose eyes seemed to flick between you and Javier and back. As if attempting to figure out what made you so special. And what they didn’t know was that it wasn’t Javi that made you special. It was his father.

“Hola chiquita,”

A beam broke out over your face, “hola Chucho,”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek, then affectionately, looked down. “Quién es este?”

You looked down at your daughter and mentioned her name. Over your shoulder, you could feel Javier’s eyes on her, too. 

Chucho smiled and tilted his hat back, away from his face as he crouched down with a gentle smile, “hola chiquitita,” he held his hand out to her and she shook it.

“Javi calls her muñequita,”

On instinct, Chucho’s eyes flicked back up to his son, “does he now?” And finding Javier’s sheepish expression more than prize enough, Chucho looked back down in front of him, “muñequita, do you want some lemonade?” Off her eager nod, he nodded his head off to the side, “vamos.”

Once you were left alone with Javi again, you looked up at him. His expression still harboring the pink hue of embarrassment. You curled yourself into his side, practically forcing his arm to wrap around you while you set a hand on his stomach. He looked down at you and squeezed your shoulder.

“Good?” He murmured.

“We’re getting a lot of looks,” you let your eyes drift over the crowd only momentarily. Then back up at him.

“Let ‘em look, querida,” he hummed, lowering himself down to crowd your space. And with lips hovering over yours, “let’s make ‘em jealous.”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Javier kept his hand tightly clutched around the muñequita’s as he helped her climb over the two by four protruding from the ground and leading into the chicken coop. She was a little unsteady and gripping his hand nearly as tight as he was gripping hers.

“Careful,” he cautioned softly, “the chicken wire is sharp.”

She looked at her other hand, the one clutched around the hexagonal openings in the wired door. After taking a moment to process, she uncurled her fingers from it and held it out to the side for balance. Javi shut the door behind them once they were in, and he knelt down to fit inside the enclosure.

“Chickies!” the muñequita shrieked at the top of her lungs. To Javier’s surprise, she didn’t seem scared of them at all despite their erratic motion. “This a boy?”

He followed the direction of her pointed finger – to a large, speckled chicken pecking at the ground. He rested a forearm over his bent knee, settling his other hand on his opposite thigh. “These are all girls. You have to keep the boys and the girls separate,”

Only half-paying attention, she reached out to touch it, only to become startled when it flapped its wings. The whooshing sent her hair blowing back and she ran back to Javi, tucking herself into him. Her back pressed up against his chest and her tiny hands on his knee. “Why?”

“‘Cause they’ll…” he stopped himself and curled his arm around her protectively when another of the chickens let out an ear-piercing string of clucks. “Sometimes the boys annoy the girls,”

From your vantage point at one of the tables on the patio, you watched the whole thing unfold in the chicken coop. The way he remained attentive to her the entire time. To how she ran to him after being frightened. And how he went to shield her from harm. Originally you’d thought the hardest thing about today would be dodging all the bitter glances from the women. Turned out the hardest thing about today was fighting the feeling of love that was growing inside you.

And then Chucho appeared beside you, taking a seat and sliding a plate of food over to you. He followed your gaze out to the chicken coop and took a sip from his beer bottle. “He’s good with her,”

You felt your face grow warmer and you decided to cover it up by reaching forward to dip a tortilla chip into some homemade guacamole. “She really likes him,” then pushing the chip into your mouth, “but what’s not to like? You raised a good boy,”

“He’s an asshole,” Chucho grinned. It made you giggle, too. “When did this start up?”

To even your surprise, you told him the absolute truth. Minus all the juicy details about the sex life you shared with his son. But about the day you first met him. And how he’d come visit you at The Tack Room as long as his dad wasn’t there. Chucho scoffed at that. But he softened again when you recounted your first actual date with Javi, and how he’d finally managed to open up about Colombia. As you ended the explanation, you started to feel sort of odd about opening up to him in this way not even knowing how much his own son had told him. Apparently not much.

“He’s treatin’ you well?” Chucho’s gaze drifted back to the chicken coop, where Javi was exiting, this time holding the muñequita. His forearm beneath her legs and her arms around his neck. “I’ll kick his ass if he isn’t,”

“I’ll kick his ass if he isn’t,”

A fleeting smile passed over Chucho’s face. Now Javi was on his way back to the patio. “This ain’t a knock against my son. Javier does his best. But you protect yourself… your heart, I mean. ‘Cause my son’s been known to break ‘em.” Chucho stood up, “got a mind of his own, that one. And sometimes it don’t work too good,”

It was then you looked back up at Javier just as he was setting your daughter down on her feet. She was squirming in his arms, anxious to be set free as Pancho’s grandkids came up and asked if she wanted to play tag with them. Could that be the same man Chucho was warning you about? In the back of your mind you knew it was. Women throughout Laredo could testify to it. But when he fell back in step toward the patio and caught your gaze, the smile that erupted over his face made you think that it was different now. Then it made you think that you were foolish. Who were you to change a man’s behavior? Shit. You hadn’t even able to get your ex to become decent enough to help pay for his kid. 

There was no hidden agenda to your next move. No secret plan to get him alone. Just the discomfort rising in your throat that he might catch on that you were back in your head again. And god forbid you both endure any amount of returned awkwardness like that of the date. So you gathered the empty beer bottles and plastic plates on the table; using the skills practiced to perfection from work, and carried on in through the back door to dispose of them. Perhaps you should’ve asked Chucho, or even Javi, before entering the house. No one had asked you to do so, and you wondered if it was off limits as you carried on into the kitchen. Just outside the window by the sink, you could see the party carrying on, oblivious to your new absence.

But the back door reopened and you looked up at the newcomer, ready to apologize for intruding. But you quickly found it was only Javier. He rounded the counter to approach you; a cheeky grin on his face that he’d finally done it. He’d gotten you alone. And that smile… it got you thinking again that it was different.

“You come to help me tidy up?” You give a smirk of your own knowing fully well he hadn’t. That was surely the last thing on his mind. Proven by the way he slid up behind your and wrapped his arms around your waist; hands wrapping around you and pulling you back into his body. Your ass brushed along the outline of his cock and it had you turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him. A disapproving shake of the head. “Javi,”

He tucked his face into your neck and kissed it, grazing his teeth gently across your skin. His hands squeezed your hips, holding you tighter to his body despite your futile opposition. Opposition which ultimately looked like you tilting your head to the side to allow him more space with your neck.

“What if your dad comes in?” Your eyes drifted shut. As if the question would make it come true, you didn’t want to bear witness to it.

“Why would he come in?”

“‘Cause it’s his–”

He cut you off by sliding one of his hands down from your hip and undid the button of your jeans with a quick flick of his fingers. And his hand was beneath the denim before you’d even had a chance to protest. Deft fingers curled along the cotton fabric of your underwear. Just a whisper of a touch over your clit. You thought about resting your head back on Javi’s shoulder, but just before you could, he bumped his chest against your back to get your attention.

“Look,” he commanded and waited a second to give you time to obey him. Which you did on impulse. Javi had leaned forward, his cheek close to yours, both looking out over the bay window behind the kitchen sink, overlooking the backyard. “Anyone could see us right now,” he whispered and nudged your underwear to the side, giving him just enough space for his fingers to resume their ministrations. You knew what he’d feel; knew that he’d soon become aware that you’d spent the better half of the barbecue uncomfortably shifting your thighs together, trying to ignore the fact that watching him with your kin was making you inexplicably aroused. That watching him play with her and hold her and bond with her was more than any man had done, including her own father. 

“Oh you like that, huh?” There was a low growl to his voice, “you like that we could get caught.”

Sure, you thought. Let’s go with that. That was the least frightening of the options. Because having to admit to Javier that it wasn’t the idea of getting caught, but the idea of him being a dad to your child that was making you wet seemed far too vulnerable for your current position. 

His fingers followed your slit from your clit to your entrance and pressed inside you without hesitation. A slow, lingering gasp left your parted lips and you melted back into Javi’s body, using him as the sole form of support in keeping you upright. His lips met your jawline and you could swear you felt them pull into a smile when your anatomy clenched around his fingers.

You shifted your body down on his fingers, “Javi,”

He grinned wider, a shit-eating one he knew you would’ve slapped off his face had you seen it, “I know, querida.” His fingers thrust in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

You could feel yourself there on the edge having had more than enough time for the anticipation to build throughout the day. Ready to fall in any capacity he would allow you to. Whether that just meant here, in Chucho’s kitchen, muffled by the obscene sounds his fingers were making inside you. Or if it meant being able to say the words that were right there at the tip of your tongue.

“Javi?”

Your eyes flashed open at the sound of Chucho’s voice. Through the kitchen window, you could see he was still out in the yard, not quite at the patio but making his way there. Beginning to strain in Javier’s arms, he moved the hand at your waist and cupped it around your neck.

“Peña,” you tugged at his wrist but it was a fruitless effort.

“Javier?” Chucho called again, stepping into the shade of the patio awning, into full view of the kitchen window.

Javi kept his eyes glued to you. His hand gained a tighter grip around your neck, and his fingers thrust up into you to the last knuckle  “come for me.”

“Javi,” you moaned and hated the way it came out like it did. You wanted to be strong. Be firm and protest. And yet… 

Javier curled his fingers inside you, against the spongy front wall of your wall, “come,” he growled into your ear, lips pressed against the soft skin there.

If there had been an ounce of willpower within you, you would’ve stopped yourself. Pulled yourself together and shook yourself out of his grasp. But there was no willpower. No way to keep yourself afloat. He commanded and you obeyed. Legs shook until your knees gave out and Javi ws forced to release your neck so he could wrap that strong arm around your waist and keep you on your feet. You came over his fingers and felt it drip down the inside of your thighs. And it hadn’t ended the way you would’ve hoped. No moment of calmness to gather yourself back together. No gentle kiss or a good girl. Just Javi pulling his fingers out of you and removing his hand from your pants. He licked one clean and then wiped them dry on the back of his jeans, already making his way back to the door to intercept his dad.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

You ran up the walkway to your front door, keys in hand, keenly aware that Javi was coming up the path behind you, the muñequita cradled in his arms. She had fallen asleep on the drive over but could hear her grumbling behind you, being awoken. By the sound of it, she was less than happy about it, despite Javier trying to soothe her, and you knew you’d have a hell of a time trying to get her back out of the house and to her dad’s before your shift started.

Flying through the front door and leaving it open behind you, you ran down the hallway and into your bedroom to get changed. The jeans from earlier would suffice, and after slipping into the white tank top that made up your “uniform”, you ran back down the hallway. “Javi, can you help her get her shoes back on? The slip-on ones by the door are fine!”

You ran into the kitchen and rummaged through it for something quick and easy she could snack on for when she woke up inevitably starving and throwing a fit. Some string cheese, applesauce, a juice box… and then you ran back toward the front door and came to a skidding halt when you passed by the living room and saw absolutely no progress being made. 

Progress was the furthest thing from happening. To call this progress would’ve been more than generous. What it was, was Javi sat back on the couch, reclined deep in the seat at an almost unnatural position. The muñequita on her side on top of him; cheek squished to his chest, her knees curled up and her feet settling in his lap. She was already back asleep and looked… absolutely peaceful.

“Javi,” you protested, coming into the room and reaching for her.

But Javier lifted his arms and wrapped them around her protectively, shielding her from disruption. 

“I have to go to work,”

“I know, but look… she’s comfortable,” he patted his hand down against her back softly.

“I have to drop her off with her dad,” you reached for her again, and this time Javi shifted his entire body. “Peña, come on, I’m gonna be late.”

And then the words came out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure where they had come from. You didn’t know either. And he wondered if he was crossing a boundary. “I can watch her,” he met your eyes and to both of your surprise, he looked genuine. “She’s had a long day. It’s easier if she stays here.” And then off your movement of putting your hands on your hips and cocking your head to the side, “I’ll make her dinner when she wakes up. Get her ready for bed,”

“Javi,”

“I can take care of her,” he insisted. “Trust me?”

Though you hadn’t been given many reasons to trust men in the past, you did undeniably trust him. You’d come to know that what he told you the day he met you, was true. I’m the best thing that could’ve walked into your daughter’s life. So you rounded to the side of the couch and bent forward. A chaste kiss to the lips while he held your reason for living was proof enough that you trusted him. You knew that there was probably no place in the world she was safer than with DEA Agent, Javier Peña.

As you carried on to The Tack Room, you wondered if you’d ever hear about what went on while you were away. You wondered how Javi would answer you when you asked how it went. You figured he’d downplay it. Say it was fine. Everything went great. That the muñequita was a perfect angel. You doubted you’d ever hear about the minutiae that made up the hours they had together.

You’d never actually hear about how she did indeed wake up with a fury and a hungry stomach. And the way Javi cut up an apple and scooped some peanut butter into a small bowl for her. Or how he rummaged through the cabinets until he came upon a box of Kraft macaroni. You’d never hear about how they sat side by side at the kitchen table, hunched over their own bowls, and devoured the unnaturally orange pasta. He’d never tell you about how he helped her pick out her pajamas and then waited in the hallway outside her door until she got herself changed. How when she called him back, he found that she’d put her shirt on backwards, and how they’d created a game to get her to slip her arms out of the sleeves and spin the top around until it faced the right way without having to take it off. And surely he’d go to the grave about how she batted those pretty please eyelashes at him – the same ones you gave him when you asked him to get the Halloween decorations from the attic – and finagled her way into staying up past her bedtime in order to play Pretty, Pretty Princess. How he let her adorn him with plastic necklaces and rings. And even plastic, clip-on earrings. But of course she won and was the only one to get the bejeweled crown. He’d also never admit how late it was by the time he finally got her to go back to sleep. How he’d kind of bribed her with some chocolate chip cookies, or how he sat on the floor by her bed and patted her back for far longer than was probably necessary before she drifted off to sleep and he was able to tiptoe out of her room. He’d never admit that because it was a little more than an hour before you were unlocking the front door and slipping back inside after your shift.

The TV was on. The news. For some reason, you didn’t think Javier was one to watch the news. His head rested on his fist, feet up on the coffee table. He was awake but his blinks were getting longer and longer. When he finally noticed you in the threshold, he sparked up and lifted his head. Lowered his feet to the ground as if you finding them on the coffee table would make you think he’d made himself too comfortable.

“Querida,” he smiled and stood from the couch, making a quick move toward you.

“The house didn’t burn down,” you mocked lightly and wrapped your arms around him when he came into your space. His lips met yours quickly before trailing down to your jaw and neck. His laugh was muffled by his mouth being pressed to your skin. You lifted one hand up to the back of his head and stroked your fingers through his hair. “How’d it go?”

“Easy,” he lifted his head and smiled, “she’s a good kid.”

You smiled and brought your hand up to his mouth, trailing your index finger over his bottom lip. “I didn’t  thank you before,”

“You don’t need to th–”

Before he could finish, you fully cupped your hand over his mouth to get him to stop speaking. “No I do, because not having to leave her with her dad tonight lifted a tremendous weight off my shoulders.” You removed your palm from his mouth and hooked your arms over his shoulders. “And I love” you noted how Javi’s eyes seemed to widen a bit at the use of the word, “that she feels safe with you.”

“I just–”

You pressed your index finger to his lips again to stop him. “Shh, nope. Just… take that, and…” you took a deep breath in. A new smile spread across your lips, “I’d really like to give you a blowjob now, so we should go do that.”

“Whatever you say, querida.”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

“This mouth,” Javier groaned, staring down at you, knelt over on the mattress while he stood beside the bed. He lowered a hand to your cheek and brushed the backs of his fingers over it. Meanwhile, your mouth was giving a valiant effort at making him come undone. “I love this mouth,”

A hum floated out of your lungs and up past your vocal chords. Lips that had been brought up to the head of his cock, wrapped tightly around the crown, pressed forth once again until your nose brushed against his waist. Judging by the breath that choked in Javi’s throat, you knew he wasn’t lying. His hand migrated from your cheek to the back of your head, where he gathered your hair into a ponytail and held it away for your face. For more of a better view of the thing he knew would be his undoing.

With the leverage of the ponytail, he guided your mouth along his shaft. The power out of your hands, you hollowed your cheeks and closed your eyes, completely focused on the pressure you applied to his member with your lips and tongue. Forced yourself to swallow back the gagging that nearly consumed you when he pushed himself down your throat. And when you re-opened your eyes, blinking back tears, the fondness you found within Javier’s gaze was something new. If your mouth hadn’t been full, maybe you would’ve mentioned something about it to him. Asked him where this new perceived fondness was coming from. It couldn’t have been the blowjob. You’d given him plenty before. And perhaps even more enthusiastic head before. But something about this in this moment warranted a new look from him and you weren’t given the time to ponder it. To try and get to the bottom of it. 

After you noticed the look, Javier was easing your mouth off of him; relishing in the way your lips tried to hold onto him tighter. To keep him in your mouth. But he was stronger, and no sooner than he was freed from your mouth, he bent over and pressed a kiss to your lips. His tongue pushed into your mouth without hesitation. There were things you wanted to voice and bring light to. Things on the tip of your tongue that you thought might be worth throwing caution to the wind. Things you were sure would be met and reciprocated and yet…

“Peña,” you murmured in between kisses and felt his lips tighten into a smile against yours.

He backed away from you, a coy smirk on his face, “what, querida?”

“Do you like me?”

Javier rolled his eyes, affixed his hands to your shoulders and pushed you around until you relented and continued on with his gesture. His tongue darted out over his lips when you’d finished the motion, now finding your ass toward him. “No, I hate you,”

Your jaw dropped and you looked back over your shoulder, but Javi just grinned harder and pressed his hand on your upper back, pushing you down to the bed. “I’m serious, Javi,”

“Me too,” he ran his fingers over your entrance once before placing them on his shaft and notching himself at your core. 

You opened your mouth again to protest but he pressed in, bottoming out in one fell swoop that your protest came in the way of a needy moan. Your fists closed around the bedsheets. His girth stretching you out almost uncomfortably, had it not been for the way he also bent over you. His knees now pressed on the mattress, his chest against your back, and his lips at your ear. Kisses trailed from your earlobe down to your neck and shoulder. Powerful thrusts left you gasping for air.

“Hate that you got me wrapped ‘round your finger,” he mumbled against your skin, teeth nipping at any flesh they could. He pushed himself in rougher, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. “Hate that you know it,”

“Got’cha,”

Javi quickly pulled out of you and pressed on your hip until you rolled over onto your back. Staring up at him once again, you noticed that look of fondness hadn’t left his face. Whatever he might be saying about the “hate”, it didn’t live in his soul. Hell, it barely even lived in the words. He eased back into you, gentler this time, looking right in your eyes, taking it all in. Wholly focused on the way your jaw fell slack when he pressed into you to the hilt again. He brought his hand to your open mouth and dragged his thumb over your bottom lip. Soon replaced it with his lips for a kiss; slow, passionate, tender. And his hips followed suit. Thrusts much slower but not any less deep or forceful. He kept you connected for as long as possible.

“What the fuck are you doin’ to me?” He whispered.

You let out an airy moan and followed it up with another smirk, “making you come.”

He shook his head. His languid movements now made for the perfect position for his member to rub against your gspot, and his waist where you were connected rubbed against your clit. “What’re you doing to me in here,” he pressed his index finger to his forehead. Your smile faded for something else when he moved that finger down to his chest, “and here.”

You pouted your lips and furrowed your eyebrows, trying not to let that get you too emotional. He’d only half-expressed what you thought he wanted to. What you wanted to. But staring him in the eyes wasn’t doing much for your composure. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him forward, you kissed him again and hoped it would get you back in this moment – this sexual moment – without the threat of love dipping off your tongue.

The kisses were endless. Whether it was to your lips, jaw, neck, or chest, Javi didn’t let a moment go by without his lips adorning your skin with some form of attention. And when you both came – one after the another, but you first – you held onto him tightly. Fingernails digging into his shoulder blades and scratching downward. If you couldn’t say the words to make him yours, you’d certainly leave a mark to do so.

“Shit,” Javi grumbled, feeling himself throb inside you.

You smiled to yourself and scritched your fingers through his hair. The stickiness between your legs increased as he pulled out of you and your shared spend dripped out of your core. Once he was completely unsheathed from you, Javi rolled over onto his side and stretched over to reach the nightstand. There was something endearing that he knew the drill: finish the nightly conquest. Document it with a photograph.

The camera was in your hand in the same moment you’d repositioned yourself along the pillows. Comfortably stretching yourself out, you knew there was a finite amount of time until you had to run to the bathroom. But Javi took the drill and altered it. Usually the night ended with both of you trading off, taking pictures of each other. But this time, Javi curled into your side, wrapped his arm over your hips, and buried his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Javi, I have to get up to take it,” you tilted your head toward his in an effort to shrink away from him. But he only held on tighter. His grip around your hips more possessive. A playful nip landed at your jugular.

“Take it like this,”

There it was. The words at the tip of your tongue again. Love. Love. Love. You turned the camera around; lens facing you. For the first time both Javi’s and your face in frame. Together. No chance at hiding identities. Your finger froze at the top of the camera. Perhaps to give him one last chance to change his mind. To come to his senses and tell you to wait… that he’d get up and take a picture of you first. But an interjection didn’t come. He didn’t try to stop you. His thumb rubbed back and forth over your hip bone. His lips stayed planted to your neck. While you faced the camera full frontal, only Javi’s profile was visible. But what a profile it was – the strong, curved nose, the sharp jawline… 

You snapped the picture and freed it from the camera after it printed. Javi took the camera from you again and set it back down on the nightstand before returning to the spot he had previously been in. A soft woosh woosh woosh filled the space between as you shook the photo. Slowly the gray square turned to color and brought forth the image. The first of its kind. Javi turned his head away from your neck in order to look at it. A quick smile passed his lips.

“That’s a pretty picture of you,”

You cringed at the photo and slapped it down on your chest to hide it. “I hate my neck,”

Javi furrowed his eyebrows, “what’re you talking about?” He grabbed your wrist to sneak a glance at the picture again. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what you were seeing in the photo to make such a comment. “I love your neck,” he leaned back in and bit your neck. This time a little harder than before.

And it made you shriek. A delighted, high pitched thing that nearly made you forget the qualm you’d had with the picture in the first place.

[hiraeth-sonder]

Routine Trail - Inicio

Boothill x Reader

The way home is a long one, but what is waiting for you is most often worth it

//Short little thing before I start working on a fic no one will want (very indulgent onmyoji fanfic). Massive liberties taken for Boothill's entire existence here. Poem from Akif Kichloo on Twitter.

People keep asking 

me for my address and 

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

The candle flickers in the night, its little flame trying its best to remain alight among the harshities of this world. Seated by the window with a book in your lap, you look beyond the horizon as your tea grows cold on the table. It is quiet for the most part, nothing but the occasional chirping of birds and your thoughts to accompany you on such a lonely night. 

Though, perhaps ‘lonely’ would not be the best descriptor. 

Your dearest lover was due to arrive any time now. Albeit, the connection on his end had made it horrifically choppy and all you could catch was ‘coming’ and ‘soon’, so whatever that means. And seeing as his message had lasted for about a minute, you could only assume he would be coming back soon. So you wait. You have been waiting for the past three days, tidying up the house and thinking of his smug grin, doing the laundry and thinking of that silly little hat plopped on your head when you least expect it, knitting and thinking of the way his fingers grasp your hand, no matter that he is unable to feel it. 

Still, you wonder how long he will remain in your humble abode this time. If you get lucky, perhaps he will stay around for a few days, and if not, he will be gone by the time the sun rises. 

You are not angry that your reunions are very often brief and if not, cut short. Rather, you find it hard to remain angry. Of course, that is not to say that every time you awaken to nothing but your empty bed, perhaps breakfast prepared on the table and no doubt a little audio message waiting for you, you do not feel just the slightest miffed and perhaps aggrieved. 

You know that he has pledged himself to the Galaxy Rangers, and that his own principles will not let him remain idle in one place for too long knowing that many injustices in the world remain. You know that, it is a notion you have not once forgotten, one that has made you so unabashedly enamoured with him. You would even argue that you would have never gotten so addled by his very being if not for that very part of him. Yet there are times you just wish you could have him for a day longer, an hour longer, a minute longer even. 

There are times you miss him with such a fervour you wonder why you do not just pack up and join him, times you yearn to do nothing but to run your fingers through his hair, run your finger along his nose and place a hand at his cheek. These moments always trip you up at the most arbitrary times, and it leaves you thinking of nothing but him in the aftermath. 

As your eyes flutter open and close, a pathetic attempt at remaining conscious, you can just scarcely hear the sound of footsteps outside, boots against dry ground in a rhythmic click of spurs. The person beyond steps onto your porch and does not bother with knocking, opening the door as what may be considered moonlight leaks in. 

There is that well-pleased grin on his face, steel grey eyes glinting with a fondness still. The ends of his pants are dirty, and his hair is just the slightest messy. Arguably, he has come back to you neat and tidy as can be, but that instinct within you simply looks for reasons for him to stay, not reason.

“Darlin’,” He calls for you yet Boothill gets not two words in before you are already up and out, your hands reaching for him as metallic arms clasp themselves behind your back. In a sudden move, he lifts you up in one swift action, forcing a shocked gasp to leave your throat as he laughs.

It is a sweet sound and no matter the surprise, you yourself laugh along when he spins you around. He would never drop you, you trust him with your life. And when he finally puts you down, soft and gentle, a hand rests on his chest, the feeling of leather and cool medallions under your touch a kind of relief, yet nothing compared to that of your other hand, thumb upon his face rubbing in methodical strokes, warm and alive.

With a far softer tone that you are used to, you furrow your brows as you direct your attention to him fully, “You’re all scuffed up.”

“‘was trying to get back to you quicker,” He mumbles in your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo like a man starved.

“You idiot,” You sigh, a resigned smile pulled across your face. Still, that does not stop you from continuing your petting, your other hand brushing away his bangs to fully reveal his handsome visage, “You didn’t even stop by the mechanics, I can wait for you, y’know?”

“And let you waste away all on yer own?”

You can only let a fond laugh escape at that, not actually too worried about his clearly healthy and fighting fit condition. Come hell or high water, that damned cowboy of yours would find some way to crawl back into your life. 

“I’m back,” His voice mellow yet distinct, finally free of whatever glitchy communication device he manages to get his hands on.

Smiling, far wider than last time, cold fingers brush back your hair as you lean into his touch. You whisper into the night, heard by only you and him, “Welcome home.”

He came home, and no matter how long he will be around, what matters is that he is home, safe and sound and back in your arms. 

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

I keep handing them

your name