#soz took me a while to get back to this

[copperrook]

Eugene's robe is real and it is mine.

You'll forgive me for not wearing it off-shoulder right at the mo, since Tumblr has a problem with tiddies and all.

Construction details under the cut

Now if you read my tags on the previous post, you'll know that it was my intention to make this robe out of some silk that had been languishing in my fabric storage, small problem though

Not all of it is black

(Left two are raw silk, different weights, right's a haboti silk scarf)

Now that's an easy enough fix

I did have to do about three passes to get them to match though, as black is a notoriously hard colour to dye

Next one must make a mock-up out of an inferior material, this here is poplin.

Now if you were just making this costume-quality, this material would be fine, slap on a collar, hem and overlock this guy and he'll do great, I'm just extra.

You'll also note the piecing on the shoulders here, that is because i did not have enough silk to cut it all in one piece

That picture to the right is how much in total was left as offcuts from all the silk used.

Fun huh?

Does also mean it's not floor length, but on the plus side it's my preferred length anyway

Eugene proper doesn't need to move his legs when walking after all

Anyways then it was just a matter of sewing the whole thing together (no pics, soz) most of it is machine sewn (silk thread) with top stitched flat felled seams, that includes the split in the back where it essentially runs from a flat felled seam to a hem by just pressing outwards and tucking under.

The entire collar was whipped stitched down on the inside within the seam allowance to avoid any top stitching lines on the outside or nasty flappy bits on the inside. (And because haboti LOVES to warp, which was not entirely circumvented with this method)

The arms eye seams were also hand finished with an invisible felling whip stitch, and the sleeve bottoms hemmed with a sort of invisible pad stitch.

The several days worth of hand stitching just listed is why this took me a while.

And so i chose a good-enough scarf for a shash-yeah jk i made the sash from scratch out of yet more Haboti silk and dyed it.

I don't think it's quite dark enough so I may dye it again later.

If you want a approx amount of fabric that's in this piece, the robe is a bit over 4 meters of silk Total?

And the sash is about 3mx70cm on top of that.

Now I'm gonna go luxuriate in this robe I stole from our fictional son, happy S3 E2 of Midnight Alley y'all!

[letteremi]

Just like Chet

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru and you have been friends since high school, and boy, it's been tough being his friend. can't he just see that you've been here all along?

cw: suggestive themes (16+), alcohol, and swearing

genre/tropes/etc: friends to lovers (are they lovers? no, worse), university au, unrequited love (idiots), mutual pining, golden boy! satoru, sukuna as plot device (soz), angst, angst no comfort, alcohol!, will they-won't they, miscommunication (sorryyyyyyy), in denial, suguru and shoko and gojo and friend group yippee

wc: 5.8 k

an: not proofread xx running on 2 hrs of sleep and redbull my head IS going to explode but that's okay! I kinda wanted to make it longer actually.

Hope you enjoyy!!

Credit goes to @bronzewasp for the divider!

You weren’t that girl — the kind who pouted, sulked, or let her stomach twist just because a boy didn’t look her way. Not in a million years, or so you told yourself. You didn’t get jealous. Especially not because of Gojo Satoru.

Not even when fangirls swarm him the second he passes the gates of your university. Not when they easily pried you away from him — a manicured hand yanking you back, saccharinely sweet perfume like poison in your throat. 

“I’ll see you after lectures,” you’d say, but you’d always avert his gaze, and he’d flash a grin your way, and then you would part ways. You would keep your head straight, and your eyes forward, refusing to look back at him.  

You’d meet up with him later, by the basketball courts. You always got there first, and you’d always set your backpack down at the uppermost left corner. 

He’d swagger in ten minutes late, backpack slung on his left shoulder like clockwork, Suguru drifting behind with his hands in his pockets.

He’d hop up to where you were, chat your ear off for 20 minutes, with Suguru’s interjections — ‘and then Yaga actually threw his bag at me’ — ‘well, can you blame him?’ 

The hollering whoops and ‘hey man’ of the rest of the basketball team would echo into the gym, signalling the end of your conversation. Without a second look, Gojo would jump up from his squeaky seat, shoes creaking underneath him as he launched onto the wax-coated floors. 

“You always come early, huh?” Suguru would murmur. Not teasing. Just observing. Then he would turn, waving a casual goodbye, with a knowing gleam in his eyes. You never responded. Didn’t trust your voice to come out steady. If you had looked a little closer into his eyes, maybe you’d see the pity in them too. 

When they both left you, you’d turn to your laptop. You’d type furiously — not an essay, not anything — just noise to drown out Suguru’s voice replaying in your mind. He had said what was so obvious, but what Satoru had always failed to notice. Or maybe he had — and just didn’t care. Didn’t want to trespass into the unspoken. 

You envied him — Satoru. The heights in which he soared, the freedom he had to act so natural, to just float between people. Jealousy always creeps in like a cat amongst the shadows. A bitter little voice reminding you that he could turn to anyone, while you only ever turned to him. He belonged to the world, while you stayed in the outskirts. It was fine, really. You didn’t need the spotlight, you were happy without the attention. The twinge of envy calls you a liar. 

He was someone who called the shots, took control of his own future. And you were always just someone waiting in the stands. 

Sometimes you’d turn your gaze towards the court — watching the motions of the players, awed by their fluidity and speed. And sometimes, when you found them, Satoru’s gaze would already be fixed upon you — blue eyes pinned you in place, shameless, electric, like he wanted to be caught staring. 

Your fingers would still, a light pink dusted your cheeks. He’d wink as he scored another point, stuck his tongue out for good measure. 

He’d jog up the stands, his hair damp with sweat, curling at his temples, and snatch your water bottle. After he drank all your water — ‘there are perfectly working water taps just outside the gym, idiot’, exasperated and teasing, Satoru would laugh and recount the game, animatedly gesturing, while you listened attentively. 

And without fail, you had to always bite your tongue. Always had to physically stop yourself from saying the words that came to you as easy as breathing. It was easy to love Satoru Gojo. 

Too easy. 

- 

The carpeted floor of the library is shaking, thundering even. The scratching of pen on paper ceases, the staccato of keyboards stops. People are looking up from their work — some startled, some annoyed. Stomach dropping to your toes, you grimace. There could only be one person coming your way. These days, you don't really want to see him. Too consumed with the thought of studying (and him), or whatnot. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t like thinking about Satoru. Just, that he sprung into your mind uninvited. Going to study today? I should probably invite Satoru… Walking past a store, and seeing a mug with a digimon on it? Satoru would love that for his birthday…Passing couples on the street? Your heart clenches, saying the thoughts that you didn’t want to think.

Shaking your head, you pull your laptop closer like it’s a shield from the Satoru-shaped distraction. Crossing your legs, you sip some matcha before diving straight back into trying to get through slope stability analysis. Why, oh why did you choose to study civil engineering?

A large palm slams onto the table, scattering your pens and sending your papers flying. Craning your neck, you find yourself face to face with the one and only Satoru. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, a playful pout on his lips. Lips pursed, your gut twists. Guilty. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, the picture of innocence. “You’re imagining things.” 

“Ah! She’s manipulative, too!” He gasps dramatically, the back of his hand flying to his forehead. Just as quickly, he drops his palm and surges forward like an overeager dog. 

You could catch the flecks of midnight blue in his eyes. Could see the light freckles scattered across his face. Shoes digging into the carpet, you try to scooch backwards. Unfortunately, your chair doesn’t glide gently across the floor as you had hoped, sticking to the carpet like glue. Instead, it just tilts on its back legs. Awkward.  

Okay, new plan. Arms stretched overhead, you yawn, back curving like a cat’s. A smooth move (not) to put some distance between your faces. The side-eye he gave you let you know he saw right through you, the playful pout of his lips said something else.  

A dramatic sigh fills the air. “Well… I’ll forgive you for being the worst friend ever if you go out with me tonight,” he says. 

With him? 

You stare back at him, confused.  

“Suguru and Shoko said that they wouldn’t come if you didn’t either,” Satoru hums, “Besides, I miss you—”

What? 

“ —no one else can keep up with me on the dance floor,” exasperation and defeat in his voice, though the teasing lilt never leaves.  

“I don’t really have a choice then, do I?” You breathe out, not even realising you had stopped. 

His eyebrows knit together as he leans in again — ever invasive, eyes sparkling. “I’m glad you see things my way,” laughing, “Stay at least this far—” Satoru gestures with both hands, “ — away from me though, so you don’t scare away any cute girls.”

“Ew I’d be standing way further back than that,” you retort. Lie. 

With a roll of his eyes, he’s off like a gust of wind. As soon as he had come, Satoru was gone. The only indication that he had been there was the lingering scent of his citrus cologne. And you, with your ears hot and pink. 

-

Your vanity is a warzone, your foundation brush teeters precariously on its edge, mascara wand missing its tube and drying out by the second, and three half-used highlighters glittering like cute little bombs. Where is that lip gloss? Did you leave it in the last purse, or was it hiding in one of those drawers….

Grumbling, you settle for a lip tint that makes your eyes pop. Your room matches your table, clothes littered on the floor and on the bed — messes made, casualties of indecision, torn between loose, flowy, or short, and form-fitting. 

Your reflection stares back at you as you step back from your mirror — makeup done. Fingers raking against the smooth material clinging to your skin, you gnaw at your lip. Maybe it’s not too late to change into something more casual…

You take one last glance in the mirror. Lip tint, lashes, dress that may or may not be a mistake. It’ll do. It has to. Time is running out, starting over would be pointless.

He picks you up at eight fifteen. Well, technically, Suguru picks you up at eight fifteen. Satoru is the one hollering your name and heralding your arrival, his head jutting out the backseat window with glee. 

The setting sun paints his face in a wash of warm oranges and pinks, and his dark sunglasses sit perfectly upon his nose — completing his party outfit, if you could call it that. As you make your way to the car, you clock his shirt — unbuttoned at the top and sleeves rolled up, showing off his muscles like he’s modelling for Vogue. What a whore, you think affectionately, giggling to yourself. 

As you draw closer, Shoko pops up behind Satoru’s massive head, from the far right of the backseat. “Who’s this babe, and can she give me her number?” she wolf whistles, clapping like you’re walking a runway. 

You do a little spin in your tight dress that hugs you in all the right places, heels clacking against the cement. Eyes rolling affectionately, you blow a kiss to the brunette. She catches it, shooting you a lascivious wink in return. 

“You can have my number, and anything else you want,” you flirt back, pulling the door open with a grin. 

“Isn’t Sugu so mean? He wouldn’t let me be passenger princess,” Satoru whines as you settle into the front seat. “Said I’d make him crash! Unbelievable…”

“That’s because you keep messing up his console, idiot,” Shoko sighs, “How can anyone drive when you’re being annoying?”

“Are we ready to go?” Suguru finally speaks up from the driver’s seat, while adjusting the radio. 

You grin, “I’m six strawberry shots in,” Satoru laughs at your admission, “Let’s do this — before I start regretting this dress. And everything else.”

-

Giggling like madmen, like co-conspirators, you and Satoru had long abandoned your friends for a corner of the bar. The blunt edge of the bar counter dug into your back, but your three? five? eight? Shots dulled the pain. Loud and exhilarating, the heavy beat of the song echoed with your rhythmic heartbeat. Though, with the way Satoru was caging you with his body, toned arms pressing onto either side of yours, you couldn’t be sure which was louder. 

“Toru, you don’t have to do that, you know,” you whisper-shout in his ear. It was the only way he’d be able to hear you over the party-goers. 

“What? And have the crowd sweep you away? Who else is going to laugh at my jokes, huh?” he shoots back. A thrill raced through your body, electrifying. He means he wants you with him then, right?

“Fine. Better you feeling all those sweaty bodies than me,” you tease. Your lips were beginning to ache from how much you’d been smiling. His body heat radiates onto you, soaking you with his warmth, your face so, so red. Here, you could pretend that he was yours. You could blame your feather light touches on the alcohol. You figure that someone like him, so endlessly touchy, wouldn’t mind. It was all in good fun.

You sweep your eyes around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of Shoko’s shiny bracelets, or Suguru’s silver piercings. A pair of red eyes — sharp, hungry —- catches yours several times, your heartbeat stutters each time. Shaking your head, you turn back to Satoru, teasing him. 

Mid-laugh, Satoru lazily turns around, glancing over his shoulder, breaking eye contact. He stills — you feel it, painfully close to you — his laugh dies down, his mouth hangs open. 

“Hey.” A pretty girl with glossy eyes, glossier cherry lips, and long, silky hair had her pointer finger still raised trepidatiously above his broad, angular shoulder. She looks exactly like one of the models he’s always gushing about. 

With a jolt, his back straightens up, like someone had electrocuted him into having good posture. It’s like he’s tingling with a nervous excitement. You watch as his calloused fingers rake through his snowy hair, breathing life into his messy looks. Like he’s trying to impress her. His warmth dissipates from your side. 

He is beautiful. So beautiful. Fuck. 

You should leave. Just because he was a friend you maybe didn’t think of like a friend, didn’t mean you had to also rob him of this opportunity. 

“You’re handsome,” she drags a manicured finger down his chest, leaving rippled fabric in its wake. “Buy me a drink?”

Ahem. You awkwardly clear your throat. Surprise flits across her features, as if she just realised that you were there. I mean, fair, you were standing next to the Gojo Satoru.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry, are you together?” Her hands flew to her face, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’, distress present in her pretty eyes. 

“No, no,” your laugh comes out strained. “We’re just friends. He’s all yours.”

As you glance up at him, you swear you see a flash of hurt in his eyes, the slightest twitch of his lips. Just as quickly, he beams back at you, all smiles. Were you imagining things? No, probably just wishful thinking.  

“Yeah,” Satoru affirms, “I’m all yours.” He locks eyes with her, cocking his head flirtatiously. You swear you hear your heart break. 

You need to go. And you need another drink. 

You excuse yourself, mumbling something about going to the bathroom. A pair of eyes, hot and heavy, follow you through the sea of bodies as you push through. Your heart sank with every step, twisting into something so, so ugly. You didn’t have any right to him. You didn’t have any right to feel this way. So why did you?. 

You were right, it was sticky and sweaty. But it was sure as hell better than watching your best friend put the moves on another girl. 

You whip your head back to look at them, hair flying, earrings stinging. The warm, overheard lights cast a reverent glow on them. The angular lines of his face were soft, and his ears were pink. Intense concentration etched in his beautiful eyes, something that you’ve only ever seen when you glance at him during physics lectures. But it was directed to her. It was clear. He was captivated. 

“Owch,” A voice rips you out of your thoughts. You turn back, tearing your eyes away from them. Oh. The crimson gaze from before. 

“Hey, gorgeous. Your hair, uh,” he points to the right side of his face, rubs his jaw a little with a small pout.  

Guilt courses through your veins. Frantic, you grab his left shoulder (it was a lot firmer than you expected), “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I swear...” Your gaze drifts down to his arm, following the dark ink spiralling along down to his wrist. 

The corners of his lips tug into a shit-eating smirk, exposing fanged canines that bit against the plush of his lips. 

“You’re not forgiven, doll. Unless…” He leans in, voice husky and low, “You let me buy you a drink.” 

Well. You are at a club. And, he is hot. And you did not want to think about Satoru right now. 

“Make that seven, and we have a deal,” you purr. Screw Satoru, screw feelings. You squeeze his firm shoulder, your other hand reaching to brush the side of his thigh. 

His smirk grows wider, and his hand finds its way to the small of your back. 

“Sukuna’s got you,” he whispers, with a nip of your ear.

-

You don’t know how many drinks you’ve had. 

At some point, the alcohol stopped feeling like devastation, and more so like liquid melatonin. Satoru hadn’t looked at you all night. Still enraptured with his nice, new girl — all cherry lips and no history. You, on the other hand, are a loser. Fifty seven times. Fifty seven times that you stole a glance at him, and fifty seven times he didn’t look back. It was like you didn’t exist in his world, invisible to the one person you thought saw you most. You felt like a sulky bobblehead, and the lights spun with each movement you made. You shifted slightly, turning your heavy head towards the bartender. One more drink couldn’t hurt. 

“It’ll definitely hurt, missy.” Sukuna laughed, the sound dying as his drink reached his lips. Had you said that aloud? 

A low grumble left your lips, and you turned to pout at the man. He’d had as many drinks as you had, but with the easy way he made conversation with the bartender, and the effortless way in which he’d just said anemone (how does that come up in conversation anyway?), you’d never have guessed. 

Sukuna’s easy grin never faltered. He carried himself like a man who knew the world would bend to his every command. His comfort was all shadows — dark, fleeting, yet, it shielded you from the worst of your ache. 

“You sure you want to keep going?” Low, dangerous. 

Your stomach tightened, too willing to just let go. 

Though your head was heavy, your feet felt as light as air. Floating your way to the lounge, you collapsed on the couch.  

You feel so dizzy, your eyelids fluttering shut. You just want to go to sleep. At home. Crawl into bed. Disappear for a while. 

A large hand wraps around your shoulders, pulling your head onto his chest with little resistance while supporting your back. Sukuna strokes your hair, and you feel the faint pressure of his rings against your scalp. Even the booming techno music isn’t enough to wake you up, you’re just so done. You snuggle into Sukuna’s chest; in your defence, it’s the best pillow you have right now. The tacky leather of the couch sticks to the back of your thighs, your dress riding dangerously high. Your eyes flutter shut, and Sukuna’s coarse fingers trail to your mid-thigh, drawing comforting circles — grounding you. You shiver. Sukuna watches you carefully, stilling his fingers and pulling back. You should let him, but you wrap a hand around his, tugging him back to your thigh. 

Self-hatred devours you. You hate yourself for being so easy to comfort. For reaching for the nearest warmth when the one you really want doesn’t even care if you’re by his side. For all your pride, you’re really nothing without his attention. 

The smell of Satoru’s cologne lingers on you. But the smell is fading, replaced by the smell of nicotine and sin. 

Maybe you just need someone to want you right now. 

Maybe you just want Satoru to look this way, just once.  

Guilt coils in your gut, but you’re too tired to fight it. 

All you know right now is that your head is throbbing. That his hands are warm. And that in this moment, you can pretend it’s him. Pretend you’re wanted. 

The comforting motion begins once again, and you let out a pretty sigh. Sukuna smirks. 

-

Across the bar, Satoru Gojo is seething. If he were a cartoon, steam would be shooting from his ears. His narrowed eyes are locked onto your form, cuddled into some guy’s side. Did you like him? Was that your type? Should he get tattoos? Would that make you finally see him? You nuzzle closer, and his heart twists. Wait, is that his hand on your thigh? His jaw locks so tightly he wonders if he’ll still have teeth by the end of the night. 

Did you even know this guy? Were you safe? It didn’t seem like he was trying to pull anything — not yet, anyway. Satoru closes his eyes. Reminds himself to drop his shoulders. Reminds himself to unclench his jaw. Tells himself to shrug it off. Relax, she knows how to take care of herself. It’s not the first time you had gone out drinking, and it’s not the first time he’s seen you shamelessly batting your eyelashes at a hottie to get a free drink. He thinks it's resourceful, actually, and it’s so funny to watch you swindle them when he’s the one pulling you into the taxi at the end of the night. 

This time is different though. He’s never seen you cling onto someone like this before, with your cheeks flushed, your delicate hands sprawled across both your laps. It hits him like a well aimed punch of betrayal, but he knows that’s not fair. 

He was the one who abandoned you first, choosing to talk to that girl, and not you. He knew it was wrong, it felt like it was against his very being. Satoru just wanted to see how you’d react. He hoped you’d pull him closer, claiming your spot next to him. Needed to hear jealousy oozing from your words. Was desperate for an indication, any sign, that your heart raced as traitorously as his did when he was next to you. 

He thought he could keep you at arm’s length. Indulge in the brightness of your laughter, your sass as you teased him relentlessly, admire your thoughtfulness. Flirt with you, because you both knew it was a joke (it wasn’t for him. It was never a joke for him). Pull you close, like proximity could make up for his refusal to admit to his feelings. And now some knock-off delinquent with discount tattoos and an unoriginal smirk was putting the moves on the girl he wants so badly.

Your jewelry catches the emerald hued light of the dance floor, glinting at him from across the room. You’ve opened your eyes, and you’re scanning the room like you’re mentally parting the sea of people to find him. Satoru adjusts his posture, rolling his shoulders back, tilting his chin slightly upwards — can’t blame a man for knowing his angles; can’t blame a man for needing to look irresistible. Just before your eyes land on his, the man you’re with lifts your chin, saying something low against your ear. Your eyes widen. That’s it, he’s coming over. 

His heart is already halfway across the room; his body just follows. 

-

Sukuna’s telling you that someone is staring daggers at him right now. That they kind of look like they want to obliterate him on the spot for being with you. 

Bitterness in your throat, it’s like the tiredness in your eyes has been replaced with venom. There is no one in this room that feels that way about you. 

You wished otherwise. But that was the truth, a bitter pill you had been trying to swallow all night. It’s cruel, you think. How he keeps giving you hope. Taking it away the next second. Or maybe you’re just angry that you believe him every single time. 

You’re trying to glare down at him through your lower lashes — which proves difficult when you’re practically slumped onto his body. With a huff, you rise to your (wobbly) feet. 

Much better — now you can scold him for playing with your sad, tired heart. 

Crossing your arms across your chest, you lean down to really give him a piece of your mind. 

Heels and alcohol don’t mix though. Your balance tips all at once. Head lurches past your feet. Fuck.

Your hands fly out in front of you. Muscles tense in anticipation, you’re waiting for the thud, to feel Sukuna’s body under yours (but not in the way he expected tonight to go..). It never comes. 

A warm arm wraps itself around your waist. Strong, familiar. 

“Hey Princess, don’t you go falling for someone that’s not me.” Oh. You knew that teasing tone. Could pick it out of a room of overlapping conversations easily. Your body begs to melt into the sharp outline of his, but you’re still feeling petty, so you stay stiff, resisting the pull that is him.

“Hey,” Satoru calls your name again, low and coaxing, “It’s hometime.” 

You tilt your head sideways, quizzical, looking up through your eyelashes at the white haired man. “Oh. Gojo.” 

The name is foreign, tastes wrong on your tongue. Too distant. 

“Gojo?” 

Satoru’s voice comes out strangled. He hasn’t been Gojo to you since before high school. Short, and sharp, his breaths are haggard against your ear. The thud of his racing heartbeat against your back. The ever tightening grip of his soft hands, hard on your skin. His forearm gently pulls your body closer. It's still not close enough. 

“It’s Satoru to you,”  he murmurs. 

Scrunching your nose, “Okay fine,” you sigh, clearly not budging, “I want to stay with Kuna though. Kuna’s comfy…you’re exhausting.” You’re aiming to kill. 

Sukuna raises a brow, dimples showing, and the corner of his mouth twitching as if to say try me. But he lounges back on the leather like it's his throne, challenging Satoru to challenge your drunken rambling. 

Words cannot describe the sheer disbelief on Satoru’s face. His beautiful features are contorted dramatically — eyebrows shooting into his messy fringe, mouth partially open like he wants to say ew, and he’s no longer breathing.

“Um no you don’t and no he isn’t,” He’s gentle, but there’s no mistaking the sharpness of his tone. His hands are trembling, like he’s one second away from breaking. “Come on, you’re wasted. We’re going home. Now.” He wraps a hand around your forearm and puppets it into a limp wave. “Bye, Kuna. Thanks for your…help.” Satoru’s clipped tone isn’t fooling anyone. 

It’s automatic, it’s out of your control, the way you immediately slump against his frame. And Satoru can’t help the way he feels when you finally surrender to him. 

-

Satoru has to drag you into the taxi. Click goes the seatbelt, as Satoru nimbly belts you up — his silky hair brushing against your face like a feather duster. The muscle of his arm contracts, moves against your waist, your stomach, as he shoves you inside— you can’t help it, it tickles, and giggles bubble up your throat, filling the silence of the cab. 

Wait. 

You’re supposed to be wallowing in your self pity right now. And ignoring him. 

You cross your legs towards the window (decidedly away from Satoru), and you whip your face in the same direction. 

Huff. 

Petulant? Yes. Did you care? No. You wanted so desperately to make him feel like he was losing you, just this once. 

Just like you’ve always felt. 

His stare bores into the back of your head, the whole ride back to your apartment. 

You stomp ahead of him, heels clacking loudly as you ascend the stairs, pushing open the front door with force — leaving it unlocked for him, you know he’s following anyway. You hope he’s following. 

Satoru trails behind you, arms crossed, tense, footsteps silent. Ears pick up on his fumbling with his keyring, finding the vibrant, hot pink spare you gave him, and locking the door with a click. A chord of shame, guilt, satisfaction, rips through you. You’re ashamed that you want him here, after the show you put on in the club. Sheepish, that you acted in that way. You didn’t even want Sukuna that bad anyway. Satisfied, that in spite of that, he’s here. He’s here. 

You’ve moved into the bathroom, sighing into your reflection, as you lean onto the sink. You pump oil cleanser onto your palm, rubbing furiously into your skin, like it’d scrub tonight’s events from your memory. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

Foundation-tinted water spirals down the sink. Still, you reach for the makeup remover—like it could erase the night.

“Hey, can I come in?”

Satoru. 

A sigh. “Sure.”

His figure moves into your peripheral vision, a hand holding scrunched up silky pajamas, the other tucked into his pants pocket. He’s half-hidden by the wooden door frame, like he doesn’t want to be seen by your anger-clouded stare. He’s looking downwards, to the side, eyelids lowered. 

He walks over, sets the pajamas by the sink. His eyes follow the way you rub at your eyelids, makeup remover soaked cotton pad in one hand. The mascara just won’t lift.

Satoru grabs the cotton, pries the makeup remover from your hands. “Just let me help,” voice low, and soft, “Promise it won’t hurt.” 

He’s already taken the remover. You sigh, stilling. “Fine.” The hum of the bathroom fans permeates the silence. You close your eyes, letting him press the liquid soaked material against your eyelashes. 

You let your eyes flutter open when he finally pulls back, the cotton pad now darkened with the last of your stubborn mascara. He holds it up like a trophy, grinning at first — until he sees your face, properly sees it, like the act of cleaning away the makeup stripped away your armour too.

You're bare now. In more ways than one. And he knows it.

“I’ll go warm up your bed,” he mumbles, like it’s something casual. Like the weight in his gaze didn’t make your knees want to give out.

You nod, wordless.

When you step into your room, it’s dimly lit — just the soft golden hue of your bedside lamp casting shadows along the walls. The sheets are pulled back on your side. And Satoru’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, his back to you, elbows resting on his thighs like the weight of the day has finally gotten to him too.

The door creaks behind you as you step inside, slowly. Your legs feel heavy. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the ache of everything you’ve left unsaid.

You get in bed without a word. Pull the blankets up to your chest. Big hands tug at the corners of your blankets, tucking them under the mattress. The silence thickens.

It’s like he’s wrapping a towel around a feisty cat, with how hard he's tucked you into your sheets. Featherlight, his palm cups your jaw as his thumb brushes at the corner of your lower lashes. It lingers for a touch too long, like he’s savouring being so close, so intimate. You both feel it, the line he’s toeing. Your pulse stutters, leaning into his touch before he removes his hand, brandishing a smudge of black on his fingertip. 

“Leftover eyeliner.” Satoru says, voice casual, and distant. But you catch how his hand flexes, twitches. He stands back up, eyes darting to the corner of your room, averting eye contact. Oh, right. You’re reading too much into his actions. He didn’t like you. Any decent person would do this for you, for anyone. You weren’t special. 

Warm tears pool in your eyes, and silent rivers run down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, pretty girl, why are you crying?” He says, voice laced with panic, movements frantic above you. Thud. He drops to his knees, cupping your alcohol-flushed face with both frigid palms. His silver eyebrows draw together, skin creasing in the middle. 

You bring your own hand to his face, pressing firmly between his eyebrows, smoothing out the furrow. “It’s nothing. ‘s not like you care.”

“I care about you,” Satoru mumbles, looking deep into your eyes, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”  

“Do…you like me?”

“You’re really doing this?” He questions, fingers carding through his hair — like he was annoyed, frustrated, at you even, for disrupting the illusion of friendship you had. The expression melts off his face, when he notices the trembling of your lips, the springing of fresh tears. 

His hands reach for you, but you’re flinching away like he’s just struck you. 

“Right. Of course.” You flick your eyes from his stunned face — mouth still agape, like he’s still processing — to the alarm clock by your bedside.  

Satoru got you the alarm clock on your bedside table, after your phone alarm failed one too many times. He had complained that he looked like a loser in Calculus III; sitting all by his lonesome, looking like an abandoned puppy with how he turned to look at each person who entered the lecture room. 

Don’t ever leave me alone again, he’d pouted, smacking the air out of your lungs. 

The memories run rampantly through your mind as you silently grieved the loss of your relationship, fists clenched, fingernails digging into your palm — desperately trying to replace the ache in your heart with the physical sting. They clung to you like a second-skin, every detail vivid, bright, in the quiet darkness of your room. 

You blinked, head roughly tossing from side to side, like you could physically catapult the memories, the experiences, Satoru, from your mind — desperate to halt the flood of emotions threatening to drown you. 

You were done. You had to be done. 

The boy next to you is a statue, head hung low, like he wants to say something, anything, but can’t. 

You turn toward him, your heart pounding as you break the silence. Hands trembling, shaking. “We can’t be friends anymore,” breath hitching, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, faltering at the edges with hurt, as your voice wavered. 

Your lungs felt like they were being crushed, your mind reeling, but it was too late to take it back. You had drawn the line, and you weren’t going to cross it ever again. For your sake. 

“Wait what–” Satoru starts, but you press a finger against his lips, “Just…can you kiss me? Then you can go.” 

He’s kissed plenty, only to ghost them the next day. The least he could do was offer you the same kindness, no?

His brain is short-circuiting, his mouth agape. Something wild flares in his widened eyes. His gaze flickers to yours, like he was trying to piece it out, but the puzzle didn’t make sense no matter how he arranged the parts. 

You’re rolling over, hands reaching out to his face. Tender, and soft, you thumb at the sharpness of his jaw. He shudders at the feeling, muscles relaxing, leaning into your touch. His breath hitches as you draw impossibly closer. 

“You’re drunk, we can’t–,” his breath ghosts over your own, puffy lips. Hesitation heavy in his voice. 

You don’t give him the chance to finish, edging closer, lips hovering just shy of his. Breaths mingling, noses tilting, heartbeat thundering. Every part of you aching for something that you couldn’t have, would never have. 

You pull back, just a fraction. Meeting his eyes — radiantly sapphire, an abyss you’d gladly fall into over and over again — filled with so many unsaid words.

“Right.” You draw in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” voice barely a whisper. The weight of his rejection hanging in the air between you, the hurt searing your soul.

You slump back to your pillow, and you turn away from him. You let him go. 

You hear the creaking of the floorboards, the rustle of his clothes, as he rises from beside you. Each movement is so slow, so painfully slow. Leave already, you want to scream. 

The door doesn’t close right away. You can hear him standing in the hallway — a breath held, a presence refusing to vanish. And then, finally, the soft click. Silence.

Cause that’s what he’s always done. Leave. 

© 2025 letteremi. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost my work to any platforms 

[obvithe-bestsoph]

THIS PHOTO. 🙏🏻 it can be in the same prompt!!

you lift, i stare.

masterlist requests word count: 1.1k

a/n: soz this took so long @pedricos lol genre: fluff/suggestive summary: you go to the gym with your boyfriend. warnings: a little bit suggestive but not really

The gym is not your favorite place to be. Actually, it ranks somewhere between doing laundry and waiting in line at the bank. But this morning, for reasons you’re not quite ready to admit to yourself, you find yourself tagging along with Pau.

“Come with me,” he’d said last night, voice low and lazy from your shared spot on the couch. “We’ll stretch first. Just light stuff.”

Light stuff, your ass. Ten minutes in, and he’s already moved on to curling weights that are the size of his head. He’s got one in each hand, arms flexing, eyes focused straight ahead. You’re sitting on one of the benches behind him, supposedly tying your shoe or fixing your ponytail or doing anything that makes it okay for you to be staring.

You know it’s not the weights that are making your chest feel tight.

The gym mirror isn’t helping either. It reflects him in full - tall, lean, muscles flexed and sharp beneath his training shirt. There’s a little furrow in his brows like he’s actually deep in concentration, not just showing off for you. His hair is damp, sticking slightly to his forehead, and there’s a soft flush across his cheeks. You know it’s from the exertion, but still. It’s a look.

“You good over there?” he asks without turning around, voice casual but a little smug.

You snap your gaze down to your shoes, as if you weren’t just mentally undressing your boyfriend while he lifts dumbbells like he’s auditioning for a fitness magazine.

“Yeah,” you say, voice just a touch too high. “Totally fine.”

He finally turns, and it’s almost unfair how good he looks - sweaty and warm, with this barely-there grin that says he knows exactly what you were doing. He sets the weights down gently, stretching one arm across his chest.

“You’ve been tying that shoe for five minutes,” he points out.

You look down and realize you tied it three times already. You glare at him for catching you. “It’s complicated,” you say, which is dumb, but you’re in too deep now to back out.

Pau just laughs. Not a big loud one, but soft and under his breath, like he’s trying not to embarrass you in front of the others scattered across the gym. But there’s amusement in his eyes. And maybe something else.

He walks over to you and stands between your knees, close enough that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze.

“You wanna try?” he asks, nodding at the weights behind him.

You blink. “You mean lift those?”

“No, the dumbbells from earlier. The lighter ones. Don’t worry, I’ll spot you.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re just trying to get me to embarrass myself.”

“Maybe,” he admits, smirking. “But I promise, you’ll look good doing it.”

You groan and swat at his thigh, but he catches your wrist before it lands. His fingers curl around yours and his skin is warm, a little sweaty, but not unpleasant.

“Come on,” he says, tugging you gently to your feet. “You owe me. You made me do yoga last weekend, remember?”

You scoff. “That was for your own good. Your flexibility is criminally bad.”

“And now it’s your turn to suffer.”

You roll your eyes, but let him pull you over anyway. He hands you a pair of lighter weights and steps behind you, hands ghosting near your arms like he’s ready to help but not quite touching. His breath is at your ear when he speaks.

“Slow and steady,” he murmurs. “Elbows tight. Engage your core.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” you mutter.

He chuckles, the sound brushing over your neck. “It means don’t half-ass it.”

You try. You really do. But your arms start shaking halfway through the third rep and you’re pretty sure your face is doing something deeply unattractive. Pau notices, obviously.

“You’re doing great,” he says, completely serious, like he’s your personal trainer or something. “So strong.”

You lower the weights with an exaggerated grunt. “You’re mocking me.”

He lifts his hands in defense. “Never. I’m just impressed.”

You look up at him suspiciously. “You’re trying to get laid later, aren’t you?”

He grins. “Always.”

You smack his chest lightly and he catches your hand again, this time pressing a kiss to your knuckles like he’s some sort of knight and not a sweaty eighteen-year-old who smells vaguely like protein powder and cologne.

“Okay, gym boy,” you say. “I’ve lifted your little weights. Now what?”

He raises an eyebrow. “My little weights?”

You wave a hand. “Fine. Your macho, giant, gym-god weights. Happy?”

He shrugs, that familiar half-smile dancing across his lips. “I liked ‘gym boy,’ actually.”

You shake your head, but you’re smiling too. He’s ridiculous. And charming. And annoyingly fit. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind doing this again, if only for the view.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your face with the back of his fingers. “Wanna sit down for a bit? Or… we could hit the mats. Do some core.”

You blink. “You mean planks?”

He nods.

“I’d rather die.”

He laughs again, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Alright. Bench cuddles it is.”

“You’re so gross,” you mumble, but you let him pull you down onto the bench with him anyway, both of you sweaty and tangled, resting against the mirror with his arm slung around your waist.

He taps his phone on with his free hand and opens the front camera. “Smile.”

“Delete that right now,” you say immediately, seeing your post-workout mess on screen.

“Nope,” he says, pressing the shutter button. “Gotta keep proof that you lifted.”

You grab for the phone, but he holds it above your head. “Pau.”

“I’ll crop myself in next to you with a dumbbell in each hand,” he says, snickering. “Caption it: couples who train together...”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I won’t. I’ll just keep it for myself.”

You pause. “Really?”

He looks at you, his expression softer now. “Yeah. Gotta have something to look at next time I’m stuck at camp without you.”

You don’t have a comeback for that. Not really. You just lean into his side and let your head rest against his shoulder, listening to the faint hum of the gym, the low chatter of other players around you.

“You’re still a show-off,” you murmur.

“And you’re still staring.”

“Whatever,” you say, closing your eyes. “You love it.”

You feel his lips press to your hairline, and he whispers, “Yeah. I do.”

[everlastingserenitys]

SOAKED WITH LOVE

summ. sylus helps you get cleaned up after a mission

pairing. sylus x f!reader cw. fluffyyy, sweet talking, sylus helps you shower, nipple play, affectionate kisses, fondling a/n first ever fic lol, also rlly short lol soz

cross-posted from ao3 ;3

Sylus carried you to your place after a long mission, you weren't entirely bruised or anything but your legs were aching. He opened the door and took the two of you to the bathroom. When you got inside, Sylus carefully placed you on the counter.

His fingers trailed along your disheveled clothes and he slowly started removing them. “You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked before slipping the first layer off.

You shook your head and told him you were fine, he nodded and removed the rest of your clothes, throwing it aside and staring at your exposed figure.

“Let's get in that shower.” his eyes darted towards your shower and he carried you off of the counter, soon placing you in the shower.

“I can do it myself, Sylus.”

“Oh you can? Then don't come calling for me when you can barely pick up the body wash.” Sylus teased, you rolled your eyes and turned on the water, your hand trembled to grab the body wash and after a few several tries you finally picked it up.

Scoffing, you continue to bathe yourself while Sylus has his back turned at you, as he waits for you to finish washing yourself.

You grab the shampoo and pour a bit on your hands, you groaned as you tried to reach your hair but your arms were rejecting you to do so. “Sylus, can you help?” you ask, Sylus chuckled and turned around, walking over to you. He removed his shirt and stood against the entrance of the shower.

“Give me the shampoo, sweetie.”

You sigh and grab the shampoo from the rack and hand it over to him. He nodded and splattered a bit of shampoo on his hands and soon brought them up to your hair. He lightly massaged the shampoo along your scalp, circling his fingers in smooth, deliberate movements. You groan under his touch as he continues to massage your hair.

Sylus grabbed onto your shoulders and lightly pushed you under the shower head, letting some water fall through your hair. He pulls you back and continues caressing your hair. Once he thought it was enough he placed you back under the shower head.

You stood under the shower with the water streaming down your head, the shampoo and water trailing along your body as you felt Sylus push back your hair from your face. His fingers tangle in your hair as he tries to get every bit of shampoo off.

Once your hair was cleaned he pulled his hands away and sighed.

“Anything else you need?”

“Can you wash my body again?”

“Ah, I thought you already did that?” Sylus chuckled and grabbed the body wash and searched around for the loofah, “you know where it is? I only see the body wash.” he asked, you shook your head, “nope, just use your hands.”

“Oh? Okay, come here.” he beckoned his finger, a small smile plastered on his face. You walked towards him and he squeezed some body wash on his hands, and lightly rubbed them together for a moment.

His hands immediately grab onto your waist and he strokes his fingers up and down in a slow movement.

His fingers graze every inch of your upper body, he lightly pressed down against your breasts, and fondled that area for a moment. You bite back a moan slipping from your mouth as he places his fingers around your nipple, and lightly tug on them.

“Let out all the noise, I wont do anything more than this.” he whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin, you whimpered quietly in response and he nodded, pinching your nipples again, this time harder than before. You grunt in pleasure and he laughed, pulling his hands away.

“Turn around.” he mumbled, you turn around and you felt Sylus’ fingers trail along your back, “so beautiful.” he whispered and continued caressing every part of your back, you whisper a thank you back and he snickered, “don't thank me, now, walk forward a little bit.” he asked, lightly pushing you forward. You walk a little forward and feel his presence shadow behind you.

His fingers lower and his hand cups onto your ass, perfectly. He lightly tugs at it and rests his face against your shoulder.

He planted small kisses on your neck as he continued to wash the rest of your body. You melt under his touch and he slowly takes you under the water to wash the soap off your body.

“Almost done, sweetie. Then we will rest after this.” he mumbled, you nod and checked if there's any soap left remaining, when you looked clean he stepped away from the shower and grabbed your hand, slowly taking you out of the shower.

He brought two towels and wrapped one of them around your body, and the other in your hair.

“Let's get ready now.

part 1 of untamed desires | sylus -> next work

[adams-angels]

Adam sfw/nsfw hcs? I love your work! Thanks!!

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

SFW

I'm gonna start off strong by saying socks and sandals. Thinks it's great.

Will stop listening when he's losing an argument. Stutters and minces up his words if he gets flustered or too aggravated.

Lute is his best friend

Says he has tons on friend but in reality lute is his only friend

This man thinks he's higher up in the food chain than he actually is. Which then leads to weak apologies from him

Doesn't go anywhere without his mask. Really big believer in that he doesn't like showing his face because both his wife's left him

Still absolutely bitter about that btw

Has an unhealthy coping mechanism when it comes to jealously.

For example, your an angel and some newbie starts talking with you and there's nothing really in it but he opens a portal to hell when your not looking and literally kicks the guy through it before closing the portal.

Or if your a sinner and you're telling him about someone who helped you the other day he will HUNT THEM DOWN next extermination day... If he can wait that long.

Likes getting you lil gifts, key chains, magnets, pins. He'll see a little thing and think that's perfect and wont hesitate buying it for you.

He won't give it to you though. He'll leave it somewhere obvious in his apartment for you to notice and go "oh, that's cute." For him to shrug and say "it's okay. You want it?" It took a while before you actually started accepting gifts this way

In public he will get you the biggest things. Giant teddy bear. New TV. A unicorn. But that's just to show everyone that he spoils you. That no one can treat you as well as him.

Loves lazy days

Also loves it when you preen his wings

Was the kinda guy that didn't have any kind of skin care until he met you and now you're both chilling with facemasks on.

Has panic attacks when he thinks you're going to leave him

When he's not wearing his mask he will not smile. It's really difficult to get him to smile or laugh when he's not wearing a mask.

But he's got the most beautiful smile

You managed you get him to laugh because you fell. What? He's still an asshole.

You couldn't be mad at him. He sounded so happy.

Has dumb pet names for everyone he's close to. Some are cute. Some are absolutely vulger. "Sweetness." "Babe." "Cutie" "cockwarmer." "Adam's dumpster." "Precious."

He's insecure AF baby

Loves hearing you say you love him

Will only tell you he loves you in private.

Would take a very special case for him to say it in public

If you get in a serious argument with him he'll run away in anger. He'll then come back after an hour or so begging you not to leave.

Sorry I really love pathetic Adam. fight me.

Smut below the cut! Minors dni

NSFW

Ik everyone says it's great at sex but I don't think he would be 🤷🏻‍♀️ not at the beginning anyway

I think he's a selfish lover and it takes someone he really cares about to make any changes

Would absolutely finish inside you then fall asleep soz babes

His cock is good tho. Likes it's a biggen. Length and width.

It was probably made to fit perfectly so

At least that's what he says

He won't believe it if you dont orgasm the first time you have sex with him. Everyone else has! Why wouldn't you?!

Well, Adam, they lied, sweetie.

Loves getting his cock sucked.

Asks for it constantly

If he gets in an argument with you he'll probably say "I'm sorry, it's just been so long since I got head."

He loves eating you out. Watching you squirm while his tongue is inside you really gets him going.

Likes you have you sat on his face so he can hold you down

He cried the first time he had sex with you after realising he loves you

Will beg to be loved when he's close to finishing. "Tell me you love me!"

Will get embarrassed after the fact

He was adamant he didn't like you. That you were just hot. But one day found himself jerking to the thought of you and that post nut clarity hit like a freight train.

Loves being praised ofc

Breeding kink. I mean come on. He was made to populate the earth. It was literally his job.

Loves rough sex, being in charge.

Will get possessive during sex

If he's having a bad day he'll be a lot more desperate and a hell of a lot more possessive

"mine" is his favourite word.

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

[myownwholewildworld]

WHEN THE MOON HOWLS ― a javier peña's autumnal oneshot

main masterlist | read on ao3 | part 2 pairing: javier peña x f!reader. summary: you meet javier in a café during your sabbatical. you see the man that no one does ― the one who is broken, defeated, crushed by his time as a DEA agent. so you make it your purpose to shine some light on his life, one pumpkin spice latte at a time. -or- the story of how you two fall head over heels for each other c: a/n: hiya! been wanting to write for javi p for a while, but was afraid to take the plunge because it's been a hot minute since i last watched narcos. anyways, this fic is for @goodwithcheese and @jolapeno's jolabrew + withcheese fall challenge which i found really inspiring, thank you for hosting this sweet challenge! first time taking part in a challenge too, whoop whoop! as always, all interactions welcome, would love to hear your thoughts. take care! <3 x warnings/tags: 18+, mdni (no smut here, but still). post season 3 of narcos, possibly slightly off-canon? idk. fluff, loads of it! angst, comfort. mentions of ptsd, panic attacks and therapy. halloween/autumnal vibes. trip to the pumpkin patch to cheer our sweet javi up. reader's pov only (v unlike me). no use of y/n. no description of reader (moodboard is only for aesthetic purposes). unbeta'd, soz. w/c: 6.8k (this was gonna be a short drabble... smh) divider by @saradika-graphics

Friday, 18th September 1998

“What can I get for you today, gorgeous?” was your go-to sentence with every client.

Even when your own personal demons stalked you at night, you made your best effort to get out of bed every day and come to work. Working in a café was not in your plans for this year, but a heart-shattering breakup had rocked your world so bad, you needed out.

So, you took a sabbatical from your job in finance, hugged your parents and waved goodbye to your friends. It would only be for one year ― hopefully enough to get your life together and reorganise your priorities.

That was why you moved to Laredo two months ago, to have a fresh start with a blank slate ― where no one knew you and you knew no one. A month into your new life, you realised you needed to do something or otherwise you would go crazy. So you took a waiting job at one of the local cafés. You were just paid the minimum wage, but you had enough savings to live comfortably for a year without any issues.

It was only mid-September ― technically still summer. However, the unusually cold weather made it look otherwise. Fall had appeared sooner this year, and you couldn’t be happier about it. You loved autumn ― its duller hues, the crispy air, the browning leaves, the cozy sweaters, burying yourself under blankets on the couch while channel surfing. It was, by far, your favourite season.

“A pumpkin spice latte, please.” The masculine voice that spoke back to you was plain, deflated ― it lacked… something, but you were not able to pinpoint what exactly.

Your eyes moved from your notebook to the man in front of you, sat at the one of the most isolated tables. A few strands of wavy, brown hair fell across his forehead, the ends caressing the metal frame of the yellow-tinted, aviator sunglasses that shielded his eyes. ‘Brown too,’ you thought. ‘Sad and brown.’

Even if he was not looking at you, you could simply tell. His demeanour, his posture, the way he averted his eyes ― the man spoke of sadness and hurt, of something dark and gut-wrenching you could not even fathom.

And he was alone ― it was obvious he was not waiting on anyone.

“Anything else?” You asked, your throat suddenly dry.

He shook his head no without a word. His hands were placed on top of the table, his fingers intertwined while his thumbs circled each other. It was a restrained yet impatient gesture, as if he could not wait to be left alone.

“Could I interest you in a slice of pumpkin cake? It’s got cream cheese frosting. Shouldn’t say it myself because I baked it, but it’s delicious, I promise.” You tried to tempt him; a soft smile directed at him. “If you don’t like it, it’s on the house.”

The curvature of your lips wavered when his eyes slowly drifted up towards you and locked on yours. They definitely had a sorrowful tint to them ― as if he had seen too much, been witness to too many unspeakable things. His eyes were a window to a crushed soul, that much you could perceive.

His lips formed a flat line as he looked away and through the window to his right.

“Why not then…” His reply was not rude but charged with something unsettling. Something that made you swallow hard.

But you were still smiling back at him. Maybe the guy was having a rough day, a rough week or a rough month. A rough lifetime? Showing him kindness was not going to change his view on the world around him, but if it helped, even a tiny bit, you would smile until the corners of your mouth hurt.

“Alrighty, shouldn’t be long!” You scribbled the command on your notebook, the tip of your tongue unconsciously sticking out between your teeth as you did.

You walked back to behind the counter and when you turned around, you saw the man watching your every move. But as soon as he felt caught, he bowed his head down and looked for something in one of his shirt’s pockets. Soon after that, he lighted a cigarette.

Slightly confused, you faced the coffee maker and looked at the recipe card for the pumpkin spice latte. As you started preparing it, one of your colleagues walked past you.

“Pssst, Alejandra!” You called her in a whisper.

The girl looked around her, unsure if someone had said her name or if it was her imagination playing games.

“Over here”, you waved at her and Alejandra happily trotted towards you.

“Yeah? What’s up? Do you need a hand with that?” She offered her help, as she always did. You were grateful to have such good coworkers in your shift. It was a contrasting experience in comparison to your finance job.

“No, I think I’m okay. Got a question of different nature though,” you ventured pressing your lips together. “The guy over there, sat in the corner…” Alejandra turned her head around to look and stuck her head out, going on her tiptoes and everything. “Hey! Be a bit less obvious, dammit!” You panicked, shaking her forearm as she giggled.

“What about him?” She asked with a cocked brow.

“Who is he? Not seen him before ‘round here.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, but Alejandra’s raised eyebrow told you she was seeing through your bullshit.

“Chucho’s son. Javier.”

“Chucho who?” It seemed like everyone knew everyone in this town, except for you.

“Chucho Peña, he owns a farm on the outskirts of town. That’s his son Javier. He worked for the DEA and has moved back in with his old man a couple of weeks ago. Rumour has it he was fired. Apparently, he was caught doing drugs on the job, can you believe it?” Alejandra didn’t hold back on the gossip. “The same drugs he was confiscating from the narcos, taking them all for himself. Some say he was even selling them back to them and making good profit.”

You knew to take rumours with a very big pinch of salt. Sure, there was corruption in the DEA as in any other governmental organisation, but he did not seem to be that kind of guy. Not that you knew him, anyway.

“Not even his childhood friends are speaking to him now, so if I were you, I’d keep my distance.” She warned you in a hush. “He’s trouble, that dude.”

That broke your heart a little. Javier looked lonely enough ― learning that he was truly on his own resonated loud with you. Being branded a misfit by his own community had to be a hard pill to swallow.

“Mhmm. Sure thing”, was your only reply. Alejandra tilted her head to one side, studying your blank expression. “I was just curious, that’s it.”

“If you say so. But don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Her veiled counsel hung above your head as you resumed the task of preparing his coffee.

Five minutes later you were done and walking back to where Javier was patiently waiting. As you approached his table, a guy pushed back his chair to stand up and hit you hard. You lost your balance, almost tripping with the legs of the chair. Your right hip slammed against the edge of an empty chair and prevented you from falling ― you managed to save the coffee, but the plate with the cake slice slid off your fingers and shattered against the floor.

“Hey! Watch it!”

For a second you thought it was the gentleman reprimanding you, but you quickly recognised the voice ― Javier had stood up, fast as thunder, and his index finger was accusatorily pointing to the man who had mindlessly pushed his chair back.

Before the situation escalated, you straightened out your back and planted a hand on Javier’s forearm to stop him from tackling the guy.

“It’s okay, it’s nothing. I wasn’t looking, it’s my bad.” You quickly tried to diffuse the situation, tension building up between the two men.

“No, it’s not.” Javier replied between gritted teeth. “This asshole should have seen you walking by.”

Your eyes widened as they flew from one man’s face to the other’s. Javier’s outburst was not welcomed by the other guy, who was clenching his fists at his sides. You put the surviving coffee down on a table nearby and placed yourself in the middle of both men, arms extended.

“No need to take this so seriously, it was just a bit of cake, and I’m not hurt.” You said looking at Javier with imploring eyes. You did not need this kind of trouble.

‘He’s trouble’, Alejandra had said. Should you listen?

“Please, accept my apologies.”

“I ain’t paying you shit now, treating one of your regular clients like this.” The man barked back, fuming.

Javier took a step forward and his chest pressed against the palm of your hand. You did not expect to feel his warm skin under yours ― a few unbuttoned buttons on his shirt gave you a peek of his hairy chest.

He clenched his jaw so hard you could see his muscles straining.

“Of course, of course. I’ll pay for it, it’s not a problem.”

Huffing and puffing, the man signalled to his companion and they both walked out the door, mumbling something you couldn’t hear but could imagine.

Slowly you turned to face Javier, whose eyes burnt like gasoline. You didn’t know if he was trouble, but he was definitely danger.

“It’s alright, relax. I’m sorry about the cake, I’ll get you another one. It’s on me, I kinda forced you to buy it.” You offered, thinking he was still mad, while you knelt down to clean the mess with some tissues you had grabbed from the table besides you.

“I’ll pay for it. For both slices.” He replied succinctly, squatting down by your side to help you out.

“You don’t need to”, you quickly said, watching him on the corner of your eye.

His expression softened a bit, and his lips turned into a grimace.

“I do. I think I made things worse for you.” You thought the same but didn’t dare to voice your opinion.

You were customer-facing and could hear your manager in your mind saying ‘The customer is always right. Treat ‘em like royalty’. Bullshit that, really, but was part of the job.

Once the mess was cleared, you gave Javier his coffee and ran back to the counter to cut another slice for him. This time, as you sauntered towards him, you were aware of your surroundings. Luckily, there were no more inconveniences, and the cake slice made it safe and sound to Javier’s table.

“Thanks. And sorry again.” He apologised, his tone throaty with truth. He really meant it.

“Don’t worry about it, honestly.” You grinned at him as you gently squeezed his shoulder without thinking. Javier’s eyes quickly darted down at the touch ― you could swear he flinched. “Oh― S-sorry”, you stammered, pulling your hand back to break contact.

Javier just hmphed and turned his attention to his drink and food.

With your brows knitting together, you made your way back to the counter. From time to time, you would check on him from a distance while serving other patrons. ‘Just making sure he likes it’, you told yourself every time.

After half an hour, Javier got up and walked towards the register.

“How was it?” You asked with a gleaming smile.

“It was good.” Surprisingly, you were slightly disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm. “Really good”, he added a second later, as if he had picked up on your disillusionment.

The smile came back to your mouth.

“Well, I’m glad.” You said while you typed in his order to produce the bill. “It’s $9.42.”

“How much was the… gentleman’s” he spat out the word, “bill? I want to cover it too.”

That offer took you completely off guard, and you started shaking your hands and head at the same time.

“No, no, no. It’s okay, I’ll pay for it. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I insist. Please.” He punctuated every word. “How much was it?”

“Uh, mhmm…” You didn’t want him to take the blow. Maybe he had made the situation worse, but at the end of the day, it was the other guy’s fault, not his. “Are you sure?”

He simply nodded.

“It was $25.37. So the total would be… $34.79.” You composed a pitiful face ― it was a lot of money for a coffee and a cake slice.

Javier handed you a $50 note and then said, “Keep the change.”

With your mouth agape with surprise and not really understanding his generosity, you looked down and extended your hand almost unwillingly.

“But this is a lot…” You started to complain. However, when you looked up at him, you only saw his back.

Javier was already walking out of the café before you could say anything else.

Friday, 25th September 1998

Exactly a week later at ten past five in the afternoon, Javier Peña entered the café you worked at. Your brows furrowed, trying to recall last Friday. Had he gotten there at the same time too? He sat at the same table, same chair as well. The man was a creature of habit, a wild one at that.

Sooner rather than later, you were in front of him, notebook and pencil on hand, with a cheery smile.

“What can I get for you today, gorgeous?” You asked, hoping he would catch the joke ― you also followed a routine.

The joke went over his head. He looked less taciturn than a week before, albeit he still had this aura around him screaming to be left alone. Javier leaned back on his chair and this time, he did make eye contact, unlike last.

A slight yet noticeable change.

“A pumpkin spice latte, please.” This time round, his voice was a bit livelier although still crude.

“Anything else?” Your smile turned crooked as your eyes locked on his.

You saw a sparkle in them, a brightness that flickered under the fluorescent lights of the café. A hint of mischief, you thought too. He definitely had seen the joke now.

“Do you still have pumpkin cake? The one with cream cheese frosting?” He went off script, which made your grin grow bigger.

A creature of habit, but adaptable.

You nodded, writing the order down ― your tongue peeking through your teeth in full concentration.

“Freshly baked, I did it this morning.”

“If it’s half as good as last week’s, I might have to start coming over every Friday then.” A lopsided grin fought its way to his lips, although it didn’t stay there for long.

That brief gesture had transformed his expression, softening the hard edges of his jaw and smoothing out the wrinkles around his covered eyes. You noticed he still had his aviator glasses on, even though it was cloudy outside.

You were not prepared for his compliment, so you just tittered.

“If that’s the case, I’ll make sure to bake one every Friday as to not disappoint you”, you replied jokingly, albeit you truly considered it.

The shadow of a grimace danced on Javier’s mouth. The beginning of another smile, perhaps. Could you be so lucky that he would gift you with two grins in a row? That would be unheard of.

It wasn’t like you were watching him, but you were. Just a few glances here and there though, nothing too obvious. You did not believe in such things, but it seemed like his demons were following him wherever he went. Whatever darkness accompanied him, had a tight grip on him. You wondered what had happened to Javier to give off such an uneasy feeling.

The man was the epitome of wariness ― always looking above his shoulders, his hand tightly latching on to the buckle of his belt. Javier Peña looked like a man who always had a foot in the door, ready to run at the slightest inconvenience. And just because of that, you should be chary, keeping your distance. But it was exactly that, his raw loneliness, what pulled you into his orbit.

You were a fixer, and Javier was broken.

You were a puzzler, and Javier was a puzzle someone had tossed aside ― all the little pieces spread in disarray, unclassified, waiting to be put back together.

Question was, could he be fixed or was he shattered beyond repair?

Friday, 2nd October 1998

“Let me guess. One pumpkin spice latte and a slice of pumpkin cake?”

Javier’s sunglasses reflected the light off the ceiling, his eyes catching a sliver of it. His fingers drummed against the table, his pearly white teeth peeking through the brief smile his lips composed just for you.

“It’s almost like you already know me”, he jested, flattening the palm of his hand against the table and sliding it off until his fingers wrapped around the edge.

That simple motion had you in a trance for a second, your mind blank.

“I do know a few things about you.” It slipped off your tongue before you could refrain yourself.

Once you realised what you had just said, your eyes slightly widened, and you unconsciously chewed your bottom lip.

“Do you?” Javier tilted his head to one side, his kempt moustache wrinkling with curiosity.

You nodded slowly and he cocked a brow, enticing you to continue.

“I’ve noticed you like a routine, always showing up at the same time, ordering the same thing, sitting on the same table, the same chair. And I know you love fall, because why would you be ordering a pumpkin spice latte every Friday since mid-September? With two sugar cubes. And when you attack the cake, you first eat the frosting, then the rest. That’s weird.”

You could have left it there so you wouldn’t sound like a stalker, but once you started talking, you could not stop.

“I know you feel like something, or someone, is following you. I know you always keep an eye on the door, making sure the exit is clear. I know you never turn your back to it either ― and that’s probably why you are, many a times, reaching for a gun in your belt that is no longer there. I know that you are lonely, but that loneliness is self-imposed. I know you don’t like being touched.”

You had definitely paid Javier Peña too much attention. Your last words did not really sink in until Javier’s amused expression transformed into knitting brows and a fine line for lips.

Had you gone too far in your analysis? Why would you say all those things to a complete stranger? When your slip of tongue dawned on you, you covered your mouth, embarrassed of yourself.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to… I just― I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know why―” Your words came out in a slurred rush, incoherent and unfinished sentences got stuck to the back of your throat through all that stammering.

He leaned back, his arm loosely draped around the empty chair to his right, near the window. Javier then clicked his tongue.

“Well, I had it coming. I did ask, didn’t I?” His reaction surprised you ― you really thought he was going to up and leave because of your insolence.

You let go a sigh of relief, followed by a nervous chuckle as you hugged the notebook close to your chest.

“Was I… too far off?” You ventured, biting down your bottom lip again. Maybe you shouldn’t push your luck.

Javier took a long minute to respond, his eyes scanning every square inch on your face, as if he was trying to assess whether he could confide in you or not. You found yourself hoping he did.

“No, not really.” He conceded, “I do love fall.”

That hint of mischief you saw a week ago twinkled in his eyes again. Under that sombre and stay-away-from-me bearing, there was another Javier. One who could be mischievous and fun. One that you had been itching to know since he first set foot on the café.

This time was your turn to slant your head to one side, crinkling your lips as you attempted to discern if you were wrong about the rest. Was he playing with you?

“And the rest?” You pushed out of curiosity, knowing full well you shouldn’t take such liberty.

Javier shrugged, his shoulders almost touching his ears. Was he trying to hide a smile?

“I do have one more thing to add to my order.” The change of subject told you he did not trust you that much.

A pinch of disappointment settled in your chest. But you knew you shouldn’t feel this way, you didn’t really know him. For all you knew, he could be a serial killer on the lookout for his next victim and being a DEA agent was just a cover.

“Oh, yes, sorry. What else would you like?” You concocted a smile, but this time it felt forced ― too tense on the corners of your mouth.

Your sight was fixed on your notepad, not daring to glance down at him again. If you had, you would have seen his look of confusion. But you didn’t.

“Another pumpkin spice latte.”

You could not hide your surprise, so inevitably you asked, “Are you waiting for someone today?”

As soon as that question abandoned your mouth, you wished it back, mortified at your audacity. It was none of your business. And you didn’t care. Of course you didn’t.

“Yeah, you. You finish your shift in” he looked at his wristwatch, “fifteen minutes, right?”

You were left gobsmacked. Of all the things you had imagined he would say, that would not be an option at all.

“Uh― Ah, y-yeah?”

“See, you’re not the only one who is observant ‘round here. I do know pumpkin spice latte is your favourite drink too.” Javier explained so matter-of-factly, it would have been impossible to correct him. And he was right, anyway. “So, what do you say?”

You had not really given him an answer and he was obviously waiting.

“Yeah. Yes, of course.” You repeated yourself, a wide smile smoothing out your lips, your cheeks slightly blushed. “I’d like that.”

Friday, 30th October 1998

Every Friday for the last four weeks had been exactly the same, and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Come ten past five, Javier would walk in through the door and sit down on the same table after his therapy session just a few blocks away. You would happily trot towards him, notebook on hand ― just a pleasantry, considering you knew his order by heart: two pumpkin spice lattes, one slice of pumpkin cake, two spoons. In fact, you had it written down before you reached him.

And then, every Friday, he would wait for the clock to mark half past five, coffee almost untouched and the cake slice still pristine on the plate. You would tell your teammates that you would be closing down and that they were free to go. You would rush through your tasks to get everything done before the clock read forty past five. A minute later the “Closed” sign would be hanging on the front door.

And then you would sit down with Javier, both lazily sipping away at your coffees and nibbling at the cake, while you shared your hopes, your fears, your ambitions, your struggles, your likes and dislikes, your pasts. His heavily charged with trauma and anguish, yours full of heartbreak and regrets.

You had learnt all about his time in Colombia ― the rise of the Medellin cartel, the fall of Pablo Escobar, the peak of the Cali cartel and the corruption deeply embedded in the Colombian government. And how it all shaped who he was now, how it all shattered him and his view of the world. All the things he had seen that still haunted him to this day, and how badly he wanted it all to go away. How gruesomely tortured he was by it all.

He had split himself open in front of you over the course of the last month, pouring his soul out while trying to detangle the mess his mind was in. And you could not help but feel for him, cry for and with him. His words had reached further down inside you than you were really aware of.

And while he was getting professional help for his PTSD, you liked to think that your long, deep conversations helped him interiorise part of the trauma, come to terms with it as much as he could. He had not said it out loud, not really thanked you either, but he didn’t need to ― you just knew.

You could not have refrained yourself from loving him even if you had tried. Over the course of the last few weeks, you had fallen for him with every detail you discovered about him. But your friendship had developed so quickly and so profoundly, you were afraid of ruining it. Ruining the only real connection you had felt in a long time.

It felt like the moment for love confessions was long gone ― it had slipped through your fingers without you even realising. And now it was too late to change it. Perhaps it was better this way ― you treasured Javier’s friendship more than anything else. You would not bargain with it, not if it meant there was a teeny tiny chance of losing him. You were not a gambler, not with the people you loved.

“I think you should pick up a camera again, see how it feels. Ignore what your parents have always told you for a moment. You don’t have to make a decision now, or ever, really.” Javier encouraged you, his palm flat against the surface, extended towards you, resting halfway through the table.

How badly you wanted to reach for him, to caress the back of his hand with your fingertips. But you didn’t.

“You’re right. It’s all I always wanted to do for a living. My job in finance, it was just their idea, really. They kept telling me that I’d die penniless on the side of a road if I chose photography as my career path.” You sighed, the spice of your coffee filling your sense of smell as you tipped the cup to your lips. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” You asked, an idea forming in your mind.

“No, I was just gonna help my dad on the farm.” Javier replied, a certain interest tinging his voice as he tilted his head ― his chocolate eyes holding your gaze as if it was a staring contest.

You had never met him outside the café, but you were friends. Surely there was nothing weird about meeting up with him tomorrow.

“Well, I was just thinkin’. Brought my camera and equipment when I moved. Tomorrow’s Halloween, could go to the pumpkin patch outside of town to take some pictures. I love taking pictures on fall, the colours are just beautiful. Would you want to join me?” A shy smile hovered over your lips, your heart slightly racing.

Javier’s eyes lingered on your face for an eternal second before he sipped at his coffee. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked ― you knew he didn’t feel comfortable with open spaces, not yet. He had told you about his panic attacks when he returned home and found himself in the open, exposed.

Suddenly, you felt so damn insensitive.

“Sorry, I know y―”

“I’d like that”, he cut you off before you could take the offer back.

Inevitably, your heart swelled, warmth pouring all over your body with his acceptance.

Saturday, 31st October 1998

The car’s door slammed behind you after you rummaged through the backseat to get your backpack. It was full to the brim, as you had taken a few of your lenses, a tripod, a flash you were positive you wouldn’t need, and a few other bits and bobs.

“Sorry!” You apologised as your head buried between your shoulders.

God forbid you made a dent on Javier’s sparkling new Toyota Camry. Well, you didn’t know if it was new, but the car was impeccable inside and out. You were relieved he had offered to pick you up, otherwise he would definitely have judged you for the state your car was in.

“‘S alright.” He muttered, but on the corner of your eye you saw him smoothing out his hand around the edge of the door, ensuring you had not damaged it. “What are you carrying there anyway? Looks like you’re goin’ campin’, pequeña (little one).”

You snickered, Javier by your side in the blink of an eye. So close you could almost feel the warmth he irradiated, even in the crispy, spooky air.

“Oh, ‘s nothing, just a few things here and there that I hope to use later. Might need your help though.” You looked at him askance, measuring his reaction to your petition.

“My help? Mhmm.” He mumbled, almost laconic.

“It’s not too bad. And your aviator sunglasses will come in handy.” You laughed at the confused expression in front of you. “I’m not spoiling it.”

Javier’s lopsided smile made a brief appearance, but it suddenly vanished.

A backfiring noise from an exhaust pipe a few yards away made him flinch, his whole body visibly tautened ― his posture went rigid, his eyes frantically searching his surroundings while his right hand flew to his belt in a vain attempt to grip a gun that wasn’t there.

And then you saw the panic building up in his shielded irises. Even through the yellow tint you watched them darken, so opaque his pupils were indistinguishable from the brown. You could swear he had stopped breathing too, because his chest had not budged one inch.

Quickly you realised what was happening ― the sound from the car nearby had triggered Javier, bringing him back to one of his nightmares. His fight-or-flight response was taking over him, his mind suddenly replaying his time back in Colombia.

When you wrapped your firm hand around his wrist, you could feel his wild pulse under your fingertips ― his heart was beating so hard, it seemed like it was looking for the way out of his torso.

“Javier,” you called his name, giving him a gentle squeeze. He did not respond. “Javi”, you raised your voice over the cacophony on the background, your fingers tighter around his wrist, jerking him close to you.

Slowly he turned to look at you, long eyelashes fluttering, and it took him a moment to gradually come out of his daze.

With your free hand you rubbed his left shoulder, the first time you had been this nigh.

“Hey, Javi, are you okay?” You whispered, his eyes slowly drifting down to your mouth, as he was trying to read your lips rather than listening to your words. “It’s okay, you’re back home. You’re safe. You’re here with me, in a pumpkin patch just outside of Laredo. You’re safe, Javi.” You reassured him in a low voice, the abbreviated version of his name falling from your lips like honey.

You hadn’t realised how scared you were for him until he finally breathed. So did you. Your heart was pounding. Then he nodded, and you thought you saw a sliver of embarrassment in his eyes.

You wanted to comfort him so bad, tell him it was fine to be vulnerable ― but words escaped you, your chest heavy with affliction. The only thing you could do was wrapping your arms around his neck and bring him in for a hug. It only took him a second to swathe your waist, his face partially buried in the crook of your neck.

A shivering sensation down your spine gave you goosebumps. It felt so good having him this close.

“I’m fine.” He hummed eventually, as you both took an unwilling step back.

“I’m sorry. Truly. If you think this is a bad idea, we can just go back.”

He shook his head no.

“No, it’s alright. Gotta push through it at some point. Rather do it with you than alone.” Your heart melted at his words, almost swooning for him.

A soft smile spread across your lips, palming his forearm again. You could not have enough of his touch, of how his skin felt under yours.

“But if at any point it gets to be too much, you’ll let me know. Promise?”

You stuck your pinky out in front of him, asking him to pinky promise he would.

He returned your smile with a devastating one of his own.

“Promise”, was his reply as his pinky wrapped around yours.

Then you both erupted in laughter.

For the next two hours you walked the whole patch together, taking as many pictures as your camera rolls would allow you. Luckily you brought more than one ― knowing yourself too well, you had brought three rolls.

“Hey, Javi! The golden hour is approachin’!”, you shouted at him, amplifying the volume of your voice by placing one hand on the side of your mouth.

Javier’s head poked out in between a humongous pile of an assortment of pumpkins. He went around it to be by your side in a couple of long strides.

“Is this where my aviator glasses come in handy?” He asked with a smidgen of inquisitiveness.

“Spot on. Come, follow me.” You curled your fingers to emphasize your words and you started walking towards a field further ahead.

It was isolated, the yellow grass up to knee height. There were some dead trees around, black branches peppered around the floor. Reaching towards your back, you untied the tripod from the side and set it up, taking your time, while Javi was right behind you.

“So you’re taking pictures of an empty field?” He asked, befuddled.

You just giggled as you knelt and settled your backpack down on the floor. Unzipped it and jumbled stuff around until you found what you were looking for. Snapping your tongue with delight, you pulled out two white bedsheets and a sunglasses case.

“Ha! Here they are!” You enthusiastically presented the objects to a confused Javi, his hands scrunching one of the bedsheets as you handed it to him.

“I don’t get it. You want me to make a bed out in the wilderness or somethin’?”

Shaking your head no, you laughed at his perplexity.

“No, you silly. We’re going to put them over our heads so we look like ghosts, like so.” And then you proceeded to demonstrate, covering yourself with the bedsheet.

Almost blindly, you took your sunglasses out of their case and placed them on the bridge of your nose and over the bedsheet.

“Voilà!” You extended your arms, showcasing your masterpiece to Javier.

You could barely see him through the linen, but his laughter reached your ears. You couldn’t help but smile wide as you grabbed one of the sides and pulled it up to uncover your face.

“I want you to do the same. I’ll set a timer on the camera, and we run over there.” You pointed to a space between some fallen trunks. “And then we just do some silly poses.”

“…Okay?” The hesitation in his voice was faked, because you could see a grin pinching the corners of his mouth.

“Trust me, it’ll look great. I’m a visionnaire!” You said with confidence as you turned around and set the timer. “Go, come on, run!”

You both sprinted to the specific spot you had directed your camera at, and quickly covered yourselves with the bedsheets. Laughing out loud, you both put the sunglasses over your faces and started posing while the camera clicked away at timed intervals.

Back to back with arms folded; one sitting down on the trunk while the other stood up behind; both hiding behind some dead trees with your heads sticking out; just staying still and very straight looking at the lens.

Even Javi got into it by the end, suggesting a few poses of his own occurrence.

You both were having so much fun, cackling so loud, you had tears pouring over your waterlines. You even bent at your waist, hands against your knees, while you tried to catch a breath. Javi was by your side chortling like a kid without a worry in the world.

You pulled the sheet off you and Javi followed suit. You could tell he also had teared up and that tugged at your heart.

“I wish we could see them now, but we’ll have to wait until I develop them.”

You stepped forward to get to the camera, but you tripped with the bedsheet. Clumsy as always, you waved your arms in a vain attempt to regain balance, and failed ― the grass on the ground hurrying towards your face, or, well― quite the opposite.

When you thought you were going to hit the floor, Javi’s broad hand clasped around your elbow and pushed you up, until your chest flushed with his. His mouth was so close to yours, his lips agape and so inviting, you licked your bottom one as you gauged the situation.

“You okay, pequeña?” His voice was just a hush in the confines of your mind.

Unable to speak due to his proximity, you just nodded as your eyes locked on his. This time there were no sunglasses covering his beautiful orbs ― giving you the opportunity to look into the abyss. His abyss. One you had been wanting to jump into for as long as you had known him.

His free hand rested on the small of your back, pressing you into him while his lips were dangerously close to yours. You could smell the hints of tobacco, the old spice, the sandalwood, all of it hijacking your senses.

Something passed between you two. Something that had been there for a while now; something you had not allowed yourself to see.

Too scared to ruin the friendship you so much cherished. Too frightened to have your heart broken again. Too afraid to make a move and be rejected.

But you didn’t need to.

Javier did.

In slow motion, he bowed his head down until his soft, warm lips ghosted yours. A light caress that made your heart jump a beat. And then he pressed them sweetly against your parted mouth, his tongue testing the waters between your teeth as you let him in.

Draping your arms around his neck, you kissed him fondly, tenderly, with all the love you had been stockpiling for a while. With his hands now on your hips, his thumbs gently rubbed the skin under your tee shirt, while your fingers raked through his hair.

And then, in the background, a clicking sound, then a flash. The kiss came to an end, not without Javi leaving a few chaste pecks on your lips before your mouths untangled.

You pressed your right cheek on his chest, eyeing the camera, and chuckled.

“It’s been taking pictures the whole time.” You told him, looking up at him with your chin against his sternum.

“Good. I’d like to have a memento of this moment, pequeña”, Javi cooed as he leaned back down to press another kiss.

“That makes two of us.” You purred, smiling into his mouth before his tongue sought yours again.

The distant howl of a wolf breached the haziness of the kiss and interrupted you. Only then, you realised that the sun had set down a while ago, and a red moon dominated the sky. The atmosphere was rather eerie, almost spooky.

“There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.” You quoted a sentence you had read once. “So maybe the moon has howled, and not a wolf?” That was your attempt at staying here, in your perfect, tiny bubble, a little bit longer.

Javi smiled, brushing his lips against yours.

“I rather not find out. Let’s head back, pequeña.”

He grabbed your hand, your fingers laced together, and pulled you towards the camera, him walking one step ahead of you.

One last click captured the final moment as you both sauntered towards it, hands intertwined, and Javi looking over his shoulder right at you.

[wishing-on-a-staranise]

You, Me, Lonely.

(s.h. x reader)

from the river to the sea (educate yourself and help however you can)

Summary: you love Steve, Steve loves you. But maybe you both want different things from life.

Warnings/tags: reader menstruates (reader has uterus), abandonment issues, the ‘six nuggets’ talk, suggestive

Word count: 3.4k

masterlist

a/n: huge huge huge thanks to @procrastinationprincesses for helping me out with this fic and giving it an ending (ur amazing sanjana <3)

writing and posting something because i might have to go MIA for a lil bit (miss me while I'm gone will ya?)

fic is inspired by ‘You, Me, Lonely’ by FIZZ i absolutely love this song like its so close to my heart ughh what can i say I'm a little bitter about the six nuggets scene 

also if you couldn't tell already I have major abandonment issues and an anxious avoidant attachment style. It will reflect in what i write soz :(

In the quiet of the night, you wish for this to last forever. That you'll have him forever.

When you came out of the shower you found him asleep on his side of the bed. His side– the one closer to the door. ‘so I can protect you from anyone who'll try to steal you from me’, he had justified it when you asked him why he was adamant on that side.

you had turned off the bedside lamp ten minutes ago, slipped under the duvet, as quietly as possible so as to not wake him up. on your side of his bed. your bed.

He always sleeps on his stomach, one hand under his pillow and the other extended a little towards yours. His body moves with steady and slow breaths, back rising and falling under the covers, head peeking out from under the rumpled up duvet. his cheeks are squished against the pillow cover. His hair is a mess from the lack of hair product, and still damp from the shower he took before you. There's a few strands of his brown hair sprawled across his forehead too. With your softest touch you brush them away from his eyes.

You wonder what he was dreaming. you hope it was something nice. He looks calm, at peace, and very, very pretty.

You look at him and you know you love him. You want to love him forever.

Love had never seemed like the type of thing you’ll get– like it wasn't meant for you. But then you met him. This boy. This boy who you never thought to be your type. You never thought you even had a type. But his boyish charm and stupid grin won you over.

Your heart doesn't skip beats around him anymore, and you’d think that that means he doesn’t have that same effect on you anymore but that would be wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever loved anyone as much as you do to him. You don’t look at him and get butterflies in your stomach, you look at him and… you’re sure. your heart is quiet and sure. You don't think you’ve ever been sure before.

You want to be sure forever.

He feels like the comfortable still of rain after a scorching hot summer, like the calm and cold breeze that cools you down. Like standing at the top of the mountain, looking at the clouds and valleys below, he feels like the crisp air that fills your lungs. Like the comfort meal your mom makes– the one you can never really recreate, the one that tastes the best when it comes from her. 

You love him and you know. You know. You know he likes you, loves you even. 

Steve Harrington loves you like a dream, and you're worried that one day he’ll wake up, look at you and realise that he deserves so much better. He’ll wake up and he’ll leave for work and he’ll bump into a pretty angel of a girl with a disposition as bright as his. And he’ll never return. people fall out of love. People fall out of love all the time.

You wish for him to love you forever.

How long is a forever anyway?

You wonder what it'll be like. When you're older, with wrinkles, white hair and weaker limbs. 

It's like you see it.

You and him in a bed– just like now but older, wiser, more tired. His back turned to you. There'd be distance between you two, you’d want to move closer and hold him– but you wouldn't. You’d just stare at the back of his head, counting all the grey hairs you’d memorised like all the moles and wrinkles on his skin.

You’d notice his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest and you would have known him so long and so well that you'd just know that he wasn't actually asleep. you'd know why he wasn't asleep.

there'd be a pain in your chest. You would know what it is, why its there. You would gulp and try not to think about it.

“Do you always stare at me in my sleep?” his groggy voice pulls you out of your own head.

You blink, multiple times. Forever, right.

He softly smiles up at you. You blink away before moving to lay on your back, the sheets rustling with your movement. “sorry I woke you up”, you mumble an apology, staring at the ceiling, you fail to hide the shake in your voice.

“Y’kay?” 

“Yeah.” the sheets beside you ruffle but you keep your eyes trained on the ceiling. it seems inevitable. You know, one day it'll happen and despite having expected it, it’ll be the greatest heartbreak of them all. 

“Thinking ‘bout somethin’?” he sounds a bit more awake.

“When am I not?” you shake your head and laugh hoping he doesn't notice that it isn't real, thankful that the curtains didn't let in any moonlight and that you had turned off the lights.

“What is it?” but this is Steve, he doesn’t need to see you to know how you’re feeling.

“Nothing.”

“Were you lying about liking the pasta I made?”

“No, Steve it was good”, a real laugh slips out of you, and you finally look at him. He’s leaning on his elbow, the messy head of hair in his hand, looking down at you. You suddenly wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see the colour of his eyes, the moles and freckles on his skin.

“Then what?”

“Nothing.” your gaze moves back to the ceiling.

“Must be something if it's keeping you up”, you feel him shift closer to you. He smells of fresh shower, mint, shaving cream and washed laundry. 

“No, I'm just….  not sleepy.”

“Yeah?”, he raises his eyebrows with a sly smirk, “Well, I know a way to make you sleepy”, he leans down– both arms caging you in, landing a kiss on your neck before trailing further up to your lips. and its lovely, so god damn lovely, you don't want it to stop but this hurts.

“Ste– mmph– Steve stop”, you turn your face away, because if he keeps going, you think you'll cry, palm pushing flat against his bare chest, “I’m– I'm not in the mood.”

“Okay, I'm sorry”, he moves back onto his one elbow. The silence gestates for a while, you can feel his eyes on you. The ticking of the clock is the only thing heard through the room before he softly says, “Hey, please tell me what's happening?”

“Nothing”, you shook your head, “I’m just tired.”

“You just said you're not sleepy.”

“J– just go back to sleep okay? sorry for waking you up”, you turn onto your side, face away from him. 

He sidles up behind you after a second or two, warm breath across the back of your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut. “yeah, like that's gonna put me to sleep", he mutters behind you.

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you in closer, “C'mon, you know I wont be able to sleep after fighting”, burying his nose in your hair– he sighed.

“Did you just sniff my hair?”

“Yeah, I do all the time. smells s’good."

"You pervert", you both laugh lightly at that, your hand going for his around your waist, before your smiles fall and silence takes over once again. 

You lick your drying lips, you forgot to put on lip balm again, “We’re not fighting, Steve.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You take in a deep breath in, fingers drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you breath out, “m’sorry.”

His arms squeeze tighter around you, he lets out a quick sigh before placing a kiss on your shoulder, “I’ll forgive you if you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Steve…”, your voice trails off, you're not even sure what you were going to say.

“Is it— Is it your…. Uh, that time of the month?”

That makes you want to roll your eyes at him and smack his chest but you restrain yourself, you’re not sure if you want him to see your eyes right now anyway. Instead, you sigh,  “I had it last week, Steve.”

You got it in this very same bed. Awoken by cramps in the middle of the night. and Steve, your lovely Steve had given you a hot water bag while he took off the sheets and put on fresh new ones and then gave you a soft massage that put you to sleep.

“right... yeah, sorry," he says all sheepish, “So what is it then? Did someone say somethin’ at work?”

“No.”

“Did I.. " he hesitated a little, "did I say something?”

“...no”, you curse yourself for pausing before saying it.

“I did, didn't I?”

“No, no. you–”

“honey, you should tell me if I ever say stupid shit– you should call me out immediately–”

“You didn't say anything stupid or whatever. I'm the one who's being stupid.”

his hold on you loosened, he shifted back to give you space to turn around, “What did I say? Hey, look at me,” you finally turn in his hold, facing him “what did I say?”

“We’d have the cutest little kids, won't we?”

“..what?” You stood infront of the kitchen sink. your hands stopped their scrubbing at the pot you were washing. You tilted your head towards him who had his head rested on your shoulder, his arms around your waist.

“Little Harringtons”, you could hear the smile on his lips.

“Harringtons?”

“Or maybe we get our names hyphenated. That works too, it’d be cute”, his hands hold your waist, his duty of drying the plates abandoned. “They’d have my fabulous hair, and your pretty, pretty eyes– cutest kids around the block”

“Our kids?” you repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, and six of ‘em. six little nuggets. They’ll make up half of a football team”, he giggled, warm air hitting the side of your face, “Doesn’t that sound lovely?” he smiled at you.

“...yeah. Yeah, it does.” you smiled back at him which only made him grin wider. His arms tighten around you again, and lips start a trail from behind your ears to down your neck.

You scoffed softly "You’re supposed to help me wash dishes you filthy animal." 

“Oh, fine,” he gave you an over dramatic sigh, before his hands left your sides, skin feeling lonely as ever.

“No, it's fine. I’m almost done anyway", you went back to scrubbing at the bottom of the pot, "Just go and take a shower, you reek.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll go!” he groaned, playfully as a kid, before he leaned against the counter, looking at you with his ‘Harrington charm’. His voice is silky when he asks, “Will you join me?”

“Steve." you said it almost as a warning.

“I don’t hear a no.”

“Okay then, no.”

“Tomorrow morning…?”

“I have an early shift tomorrow, you horndog.”

“We'll make it work.”

“No.”

“Okay", he sighs, “come up quickly though, I wanna be the big spoon today”, pecking your cheek before leaving for the shower upstairs.

Looking at him, you brush the now mostly dry hair falling on his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Your fingers lingered there, you smile, “nothing, Steve.”  your thumb rubs back and forth on the apple of his cheeks. “You didn’t say anything. it's stupid.”

His hand reaches up to hold your fingers in place, he turns his head a little to kiss your knuckles, “okay, I didn't say anything” he kisses your knuckles again, gaze stuck to your face, “but could you tell me what it is you think you’re being stupid about?”

God, I love him, you think. “Don't worry about it”, your voice barely a whisper as you attempt to give him a smile. You move closer, planting a slow kiss on his lips which are so much softer than yours– he never forgets his chapstick.

And god, you needed this, your brain stops when you kiss him. thoughts quelled and its quiet again. After some time though, your throat starts to burn and your chest is on the verge of a sob. So, when you pull away, you fail to hide the stuttered breath that you take in.

Steve knew there was something to worry about, but when he hears your breath that almost sounds like a sob, he’s immediately on high alert. Before he can brush your hair out of your face to look at you, really look at you, you bury your face in his chest.

It takes him a second to realize that you’re crying and it breaks his heart because you’re trying to hide it.

“Baby..” he feels you curl in further, your face warm against his skin. He moves to pull you in closer, palm holding the back of your head. He just wanted to take away whatever it was that was bothering you. He tried to pull away to get a look at your face to help you calm down but you wouldn't let him. He settles on carding his fingers through your hair, rubbing circles on the little sliver of exposed skin between your t-shirt and shorts, hoping it gives you some sort of comfort.

"Honey", it is then that you finally let in a shaky breath. he feels the skin where you hid your face get wet maybe with tears, sweat, snot, he didn't care-- he just wanted to take all your pain away.

You both stay that way, and you're suprised by how much you sob, how hard you heave. You weren't sure how long you stayed that way, maybe minutes, maybe hours, however long. It feels like forever.

At this moment, encased in Steve's arms, breath hot against his skin, despite the nose plugged with snot, lashes clumped with tears, eyes squinted shut, you think this is comfortable. Yet it hurts. Because you'll have to pull away. It hurts so damn much because you know how this can go, you know it can hurt so, so much more. You know it will hurt.

You want this to last forever, however fucking long one of those is.

So, you hold on longer because, you’re selfish with your love for Steve. You're selfish because despite the heartache, you’ll have him, for as long as you can.

His hold on you gentle yet firm, as if afraid he'd break you. In your head, he already had. He tries to pull away again, to look at you but you can't. Your eyes still squinted close, willing it all to be a stupid dream. “Honey, I promise you whatever it is, you can tell me”, he says, voice soft as feather. Of course it's not a dream.

Your tongue betrays you, “Its…s–” stupid. Silly. It really doesn't feel stupid or silly, but god, you're so scared that you can't say it, you didn't want to say it because if you do it’ll come true, wont it?

“Whatever it is that you think is stupid," he assured you as if he could read your mind, "I still want to hear it because I know I won't think it's stupid."

suddenly it burns, and you need air. you sit up and try not to think about how ridiculously not pretty you probably look with snot running down your face, “What if- what if we- we end up hating each other?” you manage to say through hiccups.

“What?” he sits up as well, he says as if you had said the most ridiculous thing, “I'll never hate you, honey.”

For some reason, tears fill your eyes again at that, “Steve, you don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“No. Ste– people fall out of love, Steve- all the- all the time.” It terrifies him how convinced you sound of it.

“Do..... do you think you’ll fall out of love with me?”

The question startles you, its evident in your wide eyes, “Wha– what?”

“Do you think… you’ll fall out of love with me?" he repeats, "You think you’ll hate me?”

You shake your head, the tear that had been sitting on your lower lash finally slides down your already tear-stained cheek.

“Good." he wipes the wet trails left behind with his thumb, "then, why would I hate you?”

Your face twists into an expression that Steve wasn't sure what to describe it as. a deep frown on your lips, chin wobbly, brows scrunched up together, eyes red and tired yet nostrils flared. “‘Cause", you start but before you could continue another sob leaves you. you look down at your lap, trying to catch your breath. it takes you a minute before you begin again, "do you remember.... what you said about our kids?”

He nods, heart clenching at the way your voice breaks, “I don't think I can… do that”, he doesn't think he's ever heard you sound so broken. “I– I don't think if I– if I want that.”

He sits silent and you think this is it. maybe forevers aren't that long after all.

More tears fall, more sobs leave you, you don't bother to wipe them. What's it matter anyway? He hates you already. He's probably thinking of a way to let you down easily because he is kind like that “Honey.. I want a family..” you feel your heart ripping in two and you just can't look at him.

“And I want you to be a part of that family. I– I want you to be the person I built a family with, no matter the size." He wipes at both your cheeks again, making you look at him, "even if its just us.”

The relieved smile he expected from you isn't there, instead, you frown, the crease between your brows deepens. the part that hurt the most was that you push his hands away, “you’re saying that now, but what happens when years down the line, when we’re old, you– you end up resenting me. Y- you love me right now, I know. But how do you know you wont end up hating me like, ten years later?”

“I dont want to watch you grow old and hate me and then leave me, Steve. I’d rather end this now if we’re destined to just end up unhappy together.”

“We’re not. Okay? We’re not. I know I wont hate you, ever.” He reaches for your hands again. He kisses your fingers before continuing, “And I know that I want you, just you and whatever that– that that comes with. We could never have kids and I would never hate you for it.”

“You won't be happy", you say meekly, like he'd be mad at you for speaking what was on your mind to him, “You wont hate me but you wont be happy either”, you muttered, chin ducked into your chest.

“Honey”, he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head to make you look at him, to make you understand. “you’re what I need to be happy. You make me happy. And.. I’d hope you need me to be happy too”, a wet chuckle escapes you at that. A hint of a smile on your face despite the tears.

“You do, don’t you?” he clarified with a soft smile of himself.

You nod, "yeah", letting out a loud sniffle.

“Good. I know its scary but you’ve gotta put your trust in me. Trust me enough to believe in me when I say that you are what makes me happy. and I am happy."

He wipes away gently at your face, ridding it of the tear stains, “Sometimes, you’ve just gotta trust. I promise I’ll never break it.” 

You sob again but it's lighter than before, you wrap your arms around his neck and feel the weight you felt get lifted, you sniffle into the crook of his neck, "thank you."

You feel his lips on your hairline, "Let's go back to sleep, yeah?"

"Yeah. You still wanna be the big spoon?"

"yeah, I think you need to be the little spoon today." he pulls you down with him, your back to his chest, kissing the skin behind your ear he finally settles in beside you.

You call out his name, he hums in response. "how long do you think a forever is?"

"I don't know, honey."

"Can we stay like this forever?"

"Um.. if you mean us staying forever then yes, definitely forever. But, if you meant me being the big spoon forever, baby, I'm not sure if I'll be able to commit to that."

You laugh, "I love you." you confess.

"I love you too."

[starstrikeer]

osamu as your roommate

snacks he made for u while u studies

'hungry?' osamu placed a small plate decorated with little flowers and foxes, one you had painted when you went out painting ceramics with osamu. on top were some of favourite fruits neatly chopped. you hadn't even heard him walk into your room, taking your headphones off leaving it to rest around your neck you mumbled a 'thank you'.

'ye really shouldn't overwork yerself, and not eat.' osamu stood by your desk, arms crossed leaning against the wall, lookin down on you. the warm lighting in your room making him look sweeter than ever.

without thinking about it, words came out of your mouth, 'i just needed to get this done, then i would've gotten something to eat.'

'ye say that all the time.' a knowing look splayed across his face.

roommate osamu wouldn't care if u found it embarrassing

'osamu' 7:43pm

'yeah?'

'nvm'

'really'

'its embarrassing nvm'

'js say it'

a minute went by without a response from you, so osamu was about to switch tabs, back to the recipe he was reading.

'can you get me a pad from my bedside table last drawer'

'yep'

'which one?'

'with the stars please'

when you leave the bathroom after staring at yourself in the mirror convincing yourself it's nothing to be embarrassed about, it really isn't. right.

'ya know you can keep yer stuff in the bathroom, saves ya trouble?'

whenever osamus twin came for a visit

a knock disturbed you and your music, walking over to the door to see who it is a sudden yell took you off guard.

'SAMUUU!! IT'S ME. TSUMU!' your hand pulled back from the handle. then you remembered what osamu said.

'my twin brother atsumu will come over fer a while, i won't be here till..' he paused, taking a moment to think. 'mm, ill probly get home some time after he gets here.' he glanced at the cat clock on your wall then back to you.

'so yeah. twas' a pretty crazy game.' atsumu finished his story, hopefully he hadn't noticed how you zoned out completely. listening to osamu's stories were way easier to you.

'by the way, nice place ye got goin' on, bit different from my last visit.' atsumu continued the conversation.

'oh yeah, i try. osamu likes to help too.' thinking about some of the decoration around your shared apartment with him.

'ya know, samu always mentions you.' atsumu commented. 'really?' the conversation was getting interesting.

'yeah, never fails, every conversation. you'd think he'd do a better job at hiding it.' he muttered the last bit. seemingly just loud enough for you to get a grasp of.

when osamu got back, you couldn't help but think back to what atsumu said. maybe you'd figure out what that meant the more time you spent with osamu.

ty for reading! not proofread soz for any mistakes, ill def writemore forthis trope i love it sm. lmk what u think and leave any tips in the comments!

[karajaynetoday]

hey now, you're an all-star | jack hughes

it took one month of watching hockey for me to write fic. lmao. classic. good vibes.

thank you @littledrummeraussie for proofreading, love you angie 💖

READ PART TWO HERE

READ PART THREE HERE

word count: 2.8k

Warnings:  i don't think it needs any? just forgive my limited knowledge of hockey and canada i suppose? mentions of anxiety related to university? it's a bit angsty bc let's be real, do i ever know how to write anything else?

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here

You’d known Jack Hughes for as long as you could remember. He stood up for you in the playground at kindergarten, when a bigger kid pushed you off the swings; you returned the favour by saving him from a spider on his backpack. Ever since, you’d always had each other’s backs. 

And for as long as you’d known Jack, you’d been able to tell when he was upset about something. His lips did this thing, not quite a pout, but nowhere near the easy smile you were used to seeing. He’d pull his sleeves down over his hands, and his breathing would be… deeper, somehow. He could never meet your gaze, either. 

You were scrolling through Instagram on your couch at home, where you were supposed to be studying, when you saw a video of Jack from the Devils fundraiser event, answering media questions about his injury and when he’d be back on the ice. He laughed and smiled for the cameras, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They asked about the all-star game, and you could feel his hesitation in answering. Jack tried to be positive and assure everyone that he had a chance of playing, but you both knew that wasn’t very likely. 

You sent the video to Jack with a comment bagging out his hairstyle, hoping to lift his mood a little, before dropping your phone onto the couch and drawing your attention back to the economics case study you were supposed to be analysing. 

You’d stayed in Toronto for university, while Jack headed off to New Jersey after his draft year. Long distance friendship took a lot of getting used to, but at least you were still in the same timezone, and the NHL schedule meant that Jack was contractually obliged to visit you a few times each year. Quinn too, despite how much he complained about the intensity of hockey mania in Toronto. In fact, the entire Hughes family sometimes made the trek, which you knew your parents not-so-secretly loved. It reminded you of the warmth you felt growing up in each other’s homes, filled with laughter and joy.

The little focus you had for your economics homework was broken when your phone began to vibrate beside you, Jack’s name flashing on the screen. You rolled your eyes with a smile, before leaning over to answer the video call. 

“Good morning, sunshine!” You greeted your best friend, who was already scowling at you. 

“Is it a good morning, though? When all I do is get criticism from my supposed best friend?” 

“It’s not criticism, more… encouragement, I’d say.” You teased back, Jack rolling his eyes at you.

“Encouraging what, exactly?”

“Encouraging you to make better personal style choices, especially related to hair. You are a millionaire, after all. Least you can do is get a decent haircut.” 

“Oh, my apologies. Didn’t realise I was getting encouragement from the queen of high fashion. Is that a coffee stain on that shirt?” Jack’s eyes glanced down at what little he could see of your outfit in the video call, before poking his tongue out at you.

“Hey, I’m a university student. This is high fashion, I’ll have you know. Anyway, why aren’t you at training?” You asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity. 

Jack’s lips pressed together, and he looked away from his phone and you; you silently cursed yourself for asking the question. Even though Jack had been injured, he’d been pretty dedicated to his rehab and recovery, so it was a little odd for him to be calling you in the morning rather than be at a physio session. 

“More scans this afternoon so no session this morning. Trying to decide if I can play next weekend or if I just have to show up and look pretty.” Jack tried to joke, but you could tell that it wasn’t something he found humour in. 

“Good thing that looking pretty comes naturally to you, J.” 

“Oh, so now I’m pretty? I thought I had shit hair?!”

“You can both be a pretty face and have shit hair, buddy. They’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Mutually exclusive? Is that a fancy term you learnt at school?” 

You laughed at that, earning a Jack smile in return. You continued chatting back and forth for another 30 minutes or so, before Jack had to go to his scans. 

You managed to get through the rest of your economics homework, but your mind kept wandering back to Jack and his frustration at being injured. He’d been an All-Star before, so it wasn’t that specifically he was frustrated about missing, you were certain. The difference this year was Quinn’s selection in the All-Star weekend, and the building anticipation around so-called “Team Hughes” that would see Jack and Quinn on the same team for the first time in their NHL careers. That’s probably what Jack was upset about, because as much as they chirp each other and are fiercely competitive, there’s nothing Jack Hughes loves more than his brothers. You knew that he’d be in his head overthinking everything and convincing himself that he was letting Quinn down, somehow, despite it being beyond his control. 

The only further communication you got from Jack that day was a thumbs-down text message, which told you all you needed to know. You were sporadically in touch a few times throughout the week, and before you knew it, it was the day everyone was flying in for All-Star weekend.

You’d managed to persuade your parents that a full-blown neighbourhood party was not necessary, and instead convinced them to accept Quinn’s invitation to a lowkey but nice dinner downtown near the hotel where he and Jack were staying. The dinner was something you were looking forward to all week, but you hadn’t anticipated two things: accidentally deleting half your economics essay the night before it was due and having to stay up until 3am to finish it; and the butterflies that you were feeling when you were getting ready for dinner. Why on earth were you so nervous? Seeing Jack and Quinn after a while was usually something that excited you, not stressed you out. 

You had just pulled on your dress and finished wrangling your hair when your phone pinged with a message from Jack. 

Have you looked at the menu for this place? We need to order a side of the loaded mac n cheese pls and thx 

I thought you were a high performance athlete? But of course, mac n cheese is a MUST

Correct, my body is a temple. A temple of mac n cheese. Mac is a carb, cheese is calcium for my bones. Winners all around. See ya soon x

Xo

It was freezing outside, so you took an Uber from your university apartment to the restaurant. You were running behind, thanks to traffic, and then you almost toppled over on the pavement outside due to the wet weather. Between that and your sleep deprivation, you honestly wanted nothing more than to go home, put your pyjamas on and cry; but you plastered a smile on your face and headed inside the restaurant. 

The hostess greeted you warmly, and offered to take your coat once you established that your parents had already arrived and were seated on a table towards the back of the restaurant, and you could see the backs of Jack and Quinn as you approached them. Everyone stood up to greet you with hugs and kisses, and the butterflies sparked again when Jack pulled out the chair next to his for you to sit down. Jack and Quinn both had nice sweaters on with collared shirts, and you were quietly glad you’d decided to wear a dress rather than the jeans you’d initially picked out. 

“How did your essay go, sweetheart? I know economics isn’t your favourite…” Your mother enquired, obviously unaware of your crisis the night before. 

You gave her a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of the diet coke in front of you (that Jack must’ve ordered for you, no doubt) before mumbling something about getting it sorted and hoping for the best. Your dad swiftly changed the subject to the weekend’s festivities, excitedly asking Quinn about his plans for the All-Star draft, but you could feel Jack’s eyes on you. You met his gaze and subtly shook your head, silently asking for him to save his questions for later. Jack frowned at you, but complied. 

The dinner felt like it went quickly, but also went for hours. Your stomach hurt from laughing (and probably too much mac and cheese), as Jack and Quinn regaled your parents with stories of their seasons and their plans for the next summer off in Michigan, where your two families would join each other for a month or so of adventures. You found yourself smiling as your dad and the Hughes brothers comically argued over who would pay the bill, before Jack excused himself to the bathroom and sneakily paid the bill on his way there. 

Jack and Quinn’s hotel was walking distance from the restaurant, and they excitedly invited you and your parents to come and see the fancy suite they’d been gifted for the weekend. Your mother made some excuse about traffic on the drive home and promised to come and see it some other time, but nudged you in your side as she told you to go and check it out. You were so tired and ready for bed, but reluctantly agreed; your window of opportunity to spend time with Jack was closing, so you figured you may as well make the most of it.

The butterflies in your stomach flitted around as Jack helped you into your coat before you headed outside the restaurant and bid your parents farewell. You fell into step in between the brothers as they traipsed back toward the hotel, conversation flowing easily as Quinn asked about your college classes and you asked him about the latest book he was reading. Jack was silent as you walked the few blocks before arriving at the hotel, and he gently placed his hand onto your back as you were guided through the hotel front door and into the elevator. 

Your jaw dropped when Quinn swiped his key card and you all entered the hotel suite. They weren’t joking about it being fancy, holy shit. 

The floor to ceiling windows had incredible views of the city skyline, with a very comfortable looking couch in the living area facing the view. Two doors at either side of the living room lead to bedrooms with luxurious linens, and the marble bathrooms were impeccably finished. 

Jack was grinning as he watched you take it all in, leaning up against the door frame to his bedroom as you stood near the window and gaped at the views. Quinn had flopped down on the couch and was texting on his phone. 

“Can they gift this to you year-round? I’d like to live here…” You mused, shaking your head at how insane this hockey lifestyle could be. 

“We could probably just buy it for you.” Jack said nonchalantly, as he wandered over to stand beside you at the window. 

“Yeah, if you want. They’d probably charge us more because I’m a Canuck, though.” Quinn deadpanned, earning a laugh from you and an eye-roll from Jack.

“Speaking of, the guys are all catching up in Petey’s room, so I think I’ll head down there. See you tomorrow after the draft, sugar plum.” Quinn pulled you into a hug, and your heart burst at him using your childhood nickname (which came from one ill-fated ballet performance and you insisted you hated, but secretly loved being called). 

You could’ve sworn you saw Quinn wink at Jack before he left the hotel room, but then again, the sleep deprivation could also be sending you loopy. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Jack asked, moving to stand behind you and loop his arms around your waist as you still faced the window. Your heart rate shot through the roof as he pulled you closer, and nestled his head in between your neck and shoulder. You cringed as you realised he could probably feel your pulse beating fast. 

“Sure, but no blaming me if I fall asleep on you, sorryyyyy.” You awkwardly maneuvered yourself out of Jack’s embrace and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it and removing your shoes. 

“The first time we’ve seen each other in MONTHS and you’re going to fall asleep? Am I that boring? Sheesh.” Jack drawled, watching you from where he stood.

“Yes.” You stuck your tongue out at him, but lost it to a yawn which made you both laugh. 

“You know I love you, J. I would happily pull an all-nighter with you, but I don’t think two in a row is probably good for me.”

“Two in a row? What, where you out partying hard last night?” Jack’s voice trailed off as he wandered off into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. You heard a drawer open and a light thud onto the floor, and your throat tightened when you realised Jack was changing his clothes. God, you’d gotten changed in front of each other a million times. Why was your brain making everything so weird tonight?

“Not quite. Had a disaster that involved accidentally deleting my entire essay, sobbing for an hour, then staying up until 3am to write the whole thing. Living the dream, as per usual.” You rattled off, trying to sound nonchalant about, even though just thinking about last night made you nauseous with anxiety. Your nonchalance was clearly unconvincing, as Jack came back out of the bedroom clad in a hoodie and sweats and bee-lined for you, his face covered in concern. 

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine, I promise. All part of the college experience.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or Jack more. He couldn’t either, but instead of pushing the issue, he threw a hoodie at your head and laughed when you looked offended. 

“I’m definitely falling asleep if I put this on, by the way. You know I love being cozy. Cozy is my natural state of being.” You pulled your hair up into a loose bun using the hair tie on your wrist, before pulling the black Devils hoodie over your head. 

Jack slotted himself beside you on the couch and reached his arm over your shoulders, finding the remote with his other hand and navigating the ridiculously large TV onto Netflix. 

“Fine by be, sugarplum. I’d rather know you’re getting sleep here than send you home to stress yourself out more.”  Jack mused, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your arm while he found the latest season of a TV show you both loved to watch and pressed play.

“I’m not stres - it was just one essay - I promise I’m fine.” You sputtered, tripping over your words when Jack locked eyes with you, his gaze empathetic but all-knowing. 

“Besides, I’m not the only one in the room worth worrying about.” You said softly, nudging Jack’s side gently. Jack rolled his lips between his teeth, and sighed; he put down the remote and pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands. 

“But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You’re not letting anyone down, though. Quinn doesn’t think that.” You continued, softly, not wanting to cause tension. 

Jack sighed deeply again and pulled his arm away from you, leaning forward and rubbing his face with both hands. 

“You don’t know what Quinny’s thinking, sugar. And it’s not just Quinn, it’s the fucking journalists, and Bratter’s vacation being ruined, and goddamn Michael Bublé being disappointed in me, and - just - fucking all of it.” Jack exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

You didn’t know what to say, because you could tell that Jack wasn’t in a mood that you could talk him down out of. But you could tell he needed comfort, needed reassurance, needed to know that you still had his back. Ever since kindergarten. 

You grabbed the back of Jack’s hoodie and gently tugged it, and he leaned back against the couch. You tapped Jack’s legs next, and he moved them up onto the other side of the L-shaped couch, so he was properly reclining. You paused, trying to figure out how to position yourself without being literally on top of Jack, but while your brain was running a million miles a minute, Jack’s hand found yours and yanked you towards him gently. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before adjusting yourself between Jack’s body and the side of the couch. Jack’s arm found a home over your hips and settled gently on your stomach, pulling your back against his chest. You felt his breath on your neck as you both wriggled around, trying to get comfortable.

 

“Is this okay, sugar?” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper, directly into your ear. You didn’t trust your voice not to squeak a response so you simply nodded, trying desperately to calm your fast beating heart.

You rested your hand on top of Jack’s and gently squeezed, feeling yourself starting to lull to sleep. Despite the butterflies and your heart jumping out of your chest, you somehow had never felt more at peace, right in this moment.

This was safe, this was calm. This was home. 

[lov1ngreid]

BOYS LIKE YOU | 1

(pairings): highschool!spencer + cheerleader!reader both intended to be 18 in this story

(warnings): none!

(word count): 2.9k

(author’s note): so long i’m so sorry

hii i decided to split this fic into a mini series cause i have so many ideas and directions for it and i didn’t want to squish it into one long fic, some chapters maybe nsfw ;P i also wrote this with high school in mind, of course Spencer is regular high school age and not like twelve 🤨 but if you’d rather picture them in early college go ahead! also I usually HATEEE when fics have outfit inspos but soz I’m forcing you to imagine these outfits they’re so gorg 😭

okay no more rambling!! if u wanna listen to what i did when i wrote this, here you go!! ➘

“That’s what you’re wearing” Your brother brodie snickered from his bedroom as you strolled past it on the way to the bathroom, usually you wouldn’t have given in to his snide comments, which you were no stranger to. But it was thanksgiving if your brother thought your outfit was ugly, chances are, so would the rest of your family.

Your outfit always happened to be a topic of conversation.

Your movements halt when you finally process what he had said, before slowly taking a few steps backwards meeting his taunting face while he sat on the edge of the bed “What’s wrong with it?” You cock your head feeling the embarrassment trickle through your face up to your ears, usually you wouldn’t care what comments Brodie decided to make about your outfit, but a lot of people were going to be seeing this one.

Honestly you thought it was pretty tame considering the only revealing piece was your skirt, which frankly wasn’t that short, and you thought you had compensated with your boots.

“Why are you wearing… boots?” He laughed looking down at your outfit with furrowed eyebrows before looking back up at your flustered face “and why are they red?”

You scoffed, embarrassment completely diminishing when you find out that was his problem with your outfit “they’re maroon… and you’re wearing a doctor who shirt, don’t think you’re in any position to be judging me” you glare back at him uncrossing your arms.

Honestly, he has absolutely no right to be making fun of your outfit, despite being twins, you were the complete opposites. His outfits usually consist of different coloured converse and some sort of comic book shirt, yours consisting of literally anything else.

“I have a party afterwards anyways, I don’t have time to get changed”

“You have a party on thanksgiving?… who has a party on thanksgiving” Brodie scoffs finishing the lace on his second converse

“A lot of people” you smile sarcastically backing from his door frame to continue your task before you were rudely interrupted “not that you would know” you mumble under your breath before leaving his bedroom.

A little satisfied smile crept upon your face when you heard Brodie’s faint ‘hey!’ Emitting from his bedroom.

You knew your mother would be absolutely furious knowing you had intentions on leaving thanksgiving early to attend a party, which was exactly why you had no plans on telling her. Your family was big enough as is, and considering you had shared thanksgiving with the Reid family for 12 years and counting, with both combined there had to be one, or many pockets for you to escape unnoticed.

The car ride to the Reid family home always seemed so short, always feeling so much longer when you were riding there on bikes, or walking there after school.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had even used your bike, it had to be collecting dust in your garage by now, you truly don’t think you had used it since starting highschool, despite your brother’s efforts to get you to ride to Spencer's house with him, each time you declined, something always more important popping up.

The familiar smell of the house flooded your nose while you took a step in, it always smelt like chai and vanilla, and it always looked like fall threw up on it, decorated with faux autumn leaves and pumpkins all year round, they always just added Santa hats to the pumpkins in December, you knew that was Spencer’s doing.

The wind was almost taken from you while Diana embraced you in the biggest hug, almost knocking over the cupcakes from the tray you were holding, giggling a little you returned the hug one handed of course. She always smelt like the house times ten, the vanilla smell becoming so much stronger the closer you were to her, pulling back she embraced your face in her warm slender hands brushing your cheeks softly with the pad of her thumb.

“You look so beautiful” she smiles, your face turning pink at her compliment, she did this every year. Every year she hugs you, looks like she’s about to cry and then goes on about how beautiful you look for the rest of the night, and every year it makes you feel a little more guilty about not coming around as much.

Both your parents embrace Diana and William before they usher you to the beautifully set dinner table, where the rest of his and your family awaited your arrival, both yours and his grandparents chatting away at the kitchen bench about some sort of football nonsense.

Always in awe of Diana’s meals, you debated on changing your mind and slipping out after dinner instead, not wanting to miss out on her carefully cooked Turkey.

Despite getting swept away in greeting the rest of your family, as well as the rest of the Reid’s, it didn’t take you long to notice one missing Reid.

Regardless of your efforts to talk to Spencer, he never really seemed that interested in befriending you after middle school, every time you tried to talk to him in class he always went quiet and dismissive, or snapped mean answers back at you, and you simply took the hint.

Spencer saw the way your friends snickered to themselves when you tried to speak to him, the way they’d whisper when he walked past, even though you’d smile and wave, he always saw them laugh behind you. He knew deep down it wasn’t your fault, but he couldn’t help but blame you when you never actually stopped any of your friends from making snide comments at him or his friends.

Excusing yourself from your family, you hopped up the stairs, muscle memory walking you towards Spencer’s room before you mind had caught up,

Reading the large ‘S R’ sticker on the bedroom door, you chuckle to yourself a little, staring at the crooked R knowing it was like that cause you couldn’t reach it to meet the S in the fourth grade, Spencer had refused to help you, cackling as he watched you on your tippy toes while you begged him to stop laughing.

Before your mind could even process anything, you brought your arm up to knock on his door, swallowing nervously.

You weren’t even sure why you were nervous, he just seemed to shut down any attempt at being friends and you never knew why. He got along with Brodie just fine, they were honestly really close, they hung out at school everyday and studied together after school on Wednesdays and Fridays, it just seemed like your invitation stopped one day.

The door swung open while your mind had still been dissociated thinking about all the attempts you made to talk to him, snapping you from your brain fog, Spencer stood at the door almost equally as confused as you, honestly you didn’t know why you were there, and as smart as he was, he didn’t know either.

“I brought you a cupcake” you chuckle pushing the baked good towards him with your right hand, eyebrows furrowed he takes a look at the seemingly vanilla cupcake in your hand before looking back up at your eyes.

“I don’t like cupcakes” Spencer shakes his head quickly while his hand grips harder on his door handle, debates in his mind about closing it on you.

“Yes you do” Cocking your head you stare at Spencer confused, he loved cupcakes, he also loved your cupcakes “I literally saw you eating one in the library the other day” you scoff at his obvious lie.

“And why were you in the library” he raises both his eyebrows, glancing back down at the pretty cupcake you had offered him, which he began to quickly regret declining, because he really did love your cupcakes.

“Reading?” You conceded pulling your arm holding the cupcake back “are you implying I don’t read Spencer Reid?” This was the most he had talked to you in months, you never realized you could miss a person's voice despite them being alive and well.

“If the boot fits” he shrugs leaning on his door, the grip on his door handle loosening a little, you stare a little taken back, he doesn’t talk to you for years, and then all of a sudden on thanksgiving he decides he’s going to spit back sassy little comments at you?

“Can you just take the cupcake?.. it’s pumpkin spice” you admitted pushing the sweet back in his direction, a little part of Spencer’s facade broke down, almost giving into the cupcake “I even made the little pumpkin out of fondant… it took forever” you whisper the last part almost talking to yourself.

He tried his hardest to stay strong but you had just about broken him down at this point, with a displeased groan rolling his eyes he reached out to snatch the cupcake from your soft hand, earning a small smile to form on your lips.

It only took him seconds to dig into the treat before a soft chuckle escaped your lips “can I come in?” You smile glancing behind him into his room, it looked almost exactly the same as it did when you were fourteen, posters in the same place, no furniture was rearranged, you even spotted the mini dalek figurine you had bought him on his top shelf.

Hesitantly Spencer nods stepping away from the door frame to welcome you in, his room was always kept neat, sheets tucked perfectly under his mattress, and books always in the correct spot. His weakness, however, was the countless amount of school work pages spread across his desk.

Taking a seat at his desk your eyes still gaze around his room, feeling like a blast from the past, all the books you read, series reruns you watched and stories you wrote coming back to you in a wave of memories.

“So…” he mumbled, mouth still half full with your cupcake before sitting down on the edge of his bed “do you need science homework?” Shrugging boring his eyes back into yours.

You scoff, frankly offended he would even ask you such a thing “no?.. Spencer, you and I have almost the same science grades." You'd be lying if you said you’ve never thought of asking Spencer for homework, especially on nights where cheer practice ran late and you didn’t have nearly enough time to finish, but you’ve never actually asked.

“Yeah almost” scoffing while he brushes his hands against each other wiping the crumbs of the cupcake away, you sat there stunned a little, he knew you’d never ask him considering your friendship… situation, you wouldn’t use him.

You felt the rage boiling in you for a little at his attitude towards you, considering you had done absolutely nothing for him to be mad at you for, sure you weren’t in the same friend group, but he would know more than anyone the statistics of middle school friends drifting apart in highschool, you swivel his desk chair to face his desk, frustrated palming your face with your hands dragging them down a little.

You allow your eyes to rake across his messy paper filled desk before they’re drawn to one page in particular, written in pink pen on beige lined paper, quickly snatching it from the pile you let your eyes scan over it a little before letting out an unexpected laugh.

Catching Spencer’s attention his eyes had almost bulged out of his head once he realized what piece of paper you had in your hands.

“Dear Spencer…” you start reading aloud ignoring Spencer’s loud attempts to make you put it down “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our conversations and wanted to let you know-”

“Put it down please” he groans, reaching forwards to grab it from your hands, only for you to snatch it towards you standing up from his desk chair.

“-That I’ve liked you for a while now- Sadie Keller!” You gasp grinning up at Spencer while he makes every attempt to steal the paper back from your grip “you never told me you liked Sadie Keller!” you playfully smack him with the piece of notebook paper before letting him grab it from your grasp.

“I don’t really tell you anything” Spencer crumpled up the paper before tossing it back onto his desk, you face fell a little at his words, only because he was right, he didn’t really tell you anything at all, because he didn’t ever talk to you, because you weren’t really friends.

You almost could’ve sworn you felt a lightbulb click on above your head while you watched Spencer scurry his papers together to make a neat pile “come to a party with me” you rush causing his movements to halt slowly turning his head to meet your gaze.

“Why on earth would I do that… it’s thanksgiving” he reasoned, confusion painted across his face. He simply could not fathom why you would want to take him to a party, he also couldn’t fathom why he was considering it.

“God” you groaned, moving to take a seat on his bed now “people have got to get over that” rolling your eyes you pat down your skirt a little before continuing your attempt to read his face for clues on what was going on inside his head.

“Why would you want to be seen at a party with me?” He queried, attitude dripping from his sentence, watching as your face dropped and your brows furrowed coloured him confused, why would you want to be seen with him?

“Sadie will be there… and I can’t see a potential love story and not indulge” you snicker, almost dismissing his question, you thought you’d spare a sentimental conversation about how much you missed him and instead go an easier route, you wanted him to come for his benefit.

To your surprise, he looks as if he considers it for a while, it was the first time you actually took in what he was wearing, a fitted doctor who shirt and gray sweatpants, the same exact doctor who shirt your brother has on, you cringed a little at the thought that they had coordinated that.

“Fine” he says after a while of silence, you simply cannot help the grin creeping up on your face “but only because of Sadie, and not because of you” he rushes again, almost sounding like something he was trying to convince himself rather than you.

Holding your hands up in defense you smile at his surprising compliance “how are we even supposed to leave without anyone noticing?” Beginning to worry that both your families were beginning to wonder where both of you had gone.

In all seriousness, your family actually had not noticed that the both of you were up in Spencer’s room, and were much more occupied by the game of football they all huddled around to watch.

“Follow me genius”

go to PART TWO

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[missmarveledsblog]

Flumpy ( Jake Seresin x reader) part 15

summary : the news of twins is share and its countdown to when they come , more old faces come to help with new home and flumpy meets her neighbours in well true flumpy fashion ... a groove in the kitchen well has them waiting for the moment they been waiting for ...

warning : goofy fluffy humour , hormones , pregnancy is fast tracked , not proof read soz

previously on flumpy

Picture perfect moment was the only thing she could even remotely call it when she stood holding two pink baby onesies in her hand  .   they instantly said girl as she hinted the plural  wasn’t til jake got bored and told them …

“ i put two buns in that oven” slight fear in his voice as he spoke given the shock still prevalent . 

“ oh OHHH TWINS .. SHE’S HAVING TWINS “. 

“ well done bob you adorable human … i wanna adopt him “ she sighed . 

“ we’re not adopting baby on board “ jake rolled his eyes .

“ stop pouting you can’t adopt a fully grown man even if he reminds you of bob from the minions pretty girl “ rooster patted her cheek . 

“ ok skipping that … twins” nat asked. 

“ yeah shy one in there or trouble i not too sure , hid her little ass behind her sister , i thought my kid had extra arm and head for a moment” she shuddered. “ ohhh “ her eyes widened as she held her stomach .

“ is the babies … her sit down .. call a doctor or hospital “ jake lead her to the stool as rest panicked.  “ darling what is it speak to me “ . 

“ we’re gonna need a bigger house “ she smiled up brightly as they all stopped. 

Saturdays were usually beach days  this saturday was driving around looking at bigger houses .  she had it written down a checklist of what their dream home would look like and honestly after she scared the shit out of him and took breather well it was a better step .  they would be crowded in the house and rooster was still going to be living with them plus more rooms when guest stayed  , for peanut and he knew future rescues he was still waiting for the day she’d come home with a box of ducks it hasn’t happened yet but he was waiting for it .  most of the house felt off , they didn’t scream home   til this one it wasn’t too far from base nor beach or hard deck . it had big spacious  back  garden  and she was smiling whole time .  a basement the two men  already swapping ideas to convert into man cave .  perfection  even more when they’re offer was accepted  watching the dagger squad as well as her dad and beau simpson started moving things.  Anytime she even so much as look at box it was taking up away from her .    she watched as they moved around  ready to slip out the door to see a new neighbor and a reason to see it was too good to be true .

“ welcome to the neighborho… y/n “ 

“ michelle” she groaned. 

“ you live here?” her face scrunched up . 

“ jake we’re moving again “ she called back . 

“ not happening flumpy dear” he chuckled  til he saw the demon woman standing at the door. “ i have the realtors number”he chuckled awkwardly. 

“ bye have a good day , tell annabeth we say hello” she called closing the door . 

“ hey i wanted to say hello to our new neighbor “ rooster  ran up . 

“ you really don't “ they both said heading back into the house . 

“ oh oh we need food i can least do that right “ she called pulling out her phone . 

“ who’s our neighbor?” rooster asked confused. 

It seemed having the navy set up house was both proficient , getting the navy to set up a nursery well other story completely . she was aloud paint as far as she could reach  while she grumbled  “ i’m not going to break the damn ladder” along the way.  7 months and three weeks pregnant it was getting more real , the house was coming together and  peanut was thriving ,   jake was home and she was supported by a bigger family she ever thought she would have .  it was all so magical and amazing she had all of this . 

“ baby are you crying?”  jake put down the screw . 

“Again” javy muttered. 

“ i’m just happy this time or mental  but i never thought i would have all this “ she sniffled. 

“ it is a nice house” fanboy agreed. 

“ not the house idiot all of you even luke “ she cried . 

“ i think she happy to have us as family and friends “ rooster smiled kissing her head. 

“ we love you too kiddo” beau smiled. 

“Shit she made simpson soft” payback whispered . 

The dinging of her door as she looked around the room  wondering who else it could be then dreaded thought of michelle and annabeth coming to take jake from her set in .  but what she wasn’t expecting was . 

“ hey princess “  the man smiled. 

“ uncle ron , solomon  , bernie” she gasp  before breaking into more tears alerting the others to the front door . 

“Slider , warlock , hondo  good to see you guys “ pete hugged the men . 

“ well anything for this one “ slider smiled hugging her to his side. 

 “ shit you are like part of top gun royalty “ jake smiled in awe. 

“ so your the one that knocked up my niece huh?” he stood a little taller . 

“ at ease  we’re here to help not scare him”  the voice called as sarah kazansky  pushed her way in. “ hey baby girl” she smiled hugging her tightly . 

“ you got uncle ron here” y/n sniffled . 

“ well he wanted to meet the S.O.B that got his baby pregnant “  sarah laughed as jake gulped . 

“ but we told him what great young man  he is “ warlock chuckled. 

“ i swear he did this to mav back in the day too” hondo whispered. 

“ well he was my husbands  well husband “ sarah rolled her eyes . 

“ we were never together “ pete spoke up . 

“ the eyes  they never lie…. Look all my family is here , except penny where is that woman “ she stood  looking around . 

“ getting you naco’s like you asked “ nat snorted .

 “ ah she’s good for you “ she patted her father on his cheek as she showed her new arrivals the new house still crying along the way but they sort of could understand her. 

“ your screwed if you ever hurt that girl you know that right ?” javy turned to jake. 

“ i ain’t gonna hurt her…. But yeah i’m fucked “ he winced . 

Sitting around her dinning table as they  all share stories of good ole day , the warming feeling of the people she loved most all in one space  , ruby and penny showing their faces not long after basically  top guns hall of fame sitting this was what life was for all this love in one room  and even though few couldn’t be there well they were there in away in spirit and stories .   jake could see the happiness radiating off of her  , how relaxed and peaceful she was basking in the glow of the past and how he couldn’t wait for their new future as scary and daunting it would be he was ready whatever was thrown their way as long as they were happy he was happy. 

8 months pregnant on twins not easy as she felt her soul literally being sucked out of her body and now with her maternity leave starting  honestly she wanted to pop em out so she had something to do .  she and peanut got to chill for bit  as she waved jake and roo off slightly sad to be home alone . she got to sitting on the porch as peanut enjoyed the fence yard  she couldn’t help picture the girls playing with the pup . what she didn’t like was coming out to greet bradley and jake standing with the toned up giggling barbie who she could only  known who and why she was there.  Huffing and she waddle down the path. 

“ hey my handsome men “ she cooed as the woman shot a glare. 

“ hey baby how are you” jake smiled brightly honestly waiting for anything to get him away from the girl . 

“ oh is this your little sister?” the woman chided. 

“ you must be annabitch.. Beth “ y/n smiled. 

“ this is my beautiful girl i was telling you about” jake held her close. 

“ oh your y/n my moms told me all about you “ she rolled her eyes. 

“ yeah sure she did , can we help you ?” y/n tapped her foot . 

“ you even old enough to have kid? “ she scoffed .

“ i mean gotta trap em one way keep your sugar daddy around “ she winked . 

“ she thinks she funny” jake rolled his eyes 

“ i think she is “ rooster snorted. 

“ when you need real woman not a little girl  call me “ the woman smiled sweetly . 

“ and when i need dollar store extensions  i call you bye annabitch have good day sit in a microwave   “ y/n waved  before jake led her away. “ little girl?” “ she growled waddling back up the path. 

“ big girl  very big … not in width  though so skinny” rooster called as she glared at the man . 

“ my beautiful woman huh  she  jealous cause your so radiant and gorgeous “ he cooed  kissing her cheek. 

“ i bet michelle sent her trying to have her own barbie and ken to show off to stupid friends “ she mocked the womans voice as they walked into  house .  

8 month  2 weeks pregnant she wanted it over , she was done  ready throw into the towel missing bending and seeing her feet. She waddles around the kitchen making more food singing along to her  playlist telling the two men she could make breakfast .  swaying along it really was a show with their meal.

“ looking like a chef i’m a five star michelin  .. get it cause im cooking . …oh shit the felix effect is strong” she gasped holding onto the counter  as their eyes all looked to the floor . 

“ darling ..” 

“ pretty girl was that ?” 

“ my water breaking yes “ she stood leg opened as she looked up at too men . “ this time we can go the hospital “ she winced . 

taglist : @harrysgothicbitch @djs8891 @darksparklesficrecs @sarah-bear706318 @emma8895eb @katiemcrae @eleventhdoctorsangel

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

25. First Stop

Note: Synk Road time!

Masterlist here

(I took it myself so soz for dodgy img)

The streets surrounding the Seoul concert venue were buzzing with excitement. A seemingly endless line of fans snaked around the block, each one clutching banners, light sticks, and posters of their favorite members of aespa. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the eager crowd as they chattered excitedly, awaiting the doors to open.

Synk Road: Parallel Line officially started today.

Inside the venue, it was a whirlwind of activity as the crew prepared the final touches on the stage. Meanwhile, backstage, Giselle was in full vlogging mode, camera in hand, narrating her behind-the-scenes tour for the aespa YouTube channel.

“And here we have the dressing room, where we have our lovely members getting ready!" Giselle said, her voice upbeat as she swung the camera around to capture the chaos inside. Karina was having her hair styled, Winter was warming up her voice in the corner, and Ningning was staring at herself in the mirror, trying out various expressions.

Like a hawk just found its prey, Giselle eyed a certain person near the catering table at the corner. Giselle panned the camera dramatically to Y/n, the culprit, clearly eyeing a bowl of chips.

“Caught in 4K!” Giselle announced loudly, zooming in on Y/n. "We have our manager on the scene!"

Y/n froze, hand halfway to the chips. He turned slowly to face Giselle and the camera, his expression one of pure guilt. “Uh... this isn’t what it looks like, MYs.”

“Sure, sure,” Giselle teased, laughing as she zoomed in further. “We’ve been working all day, and this is what our manager does while we prepare to perform?”

“I was just... checking the for poison,” Y/n said defensively, grabbing a handful of chips and stuffing them into his mouth. “Manager duties, you know?”

Giselle laughed, flipping the camera back to herself. “Our manager, everyone. Hard at work!”

She signed off the vlog with a wink before joining the others to continue getting ready. Y/n, still munching on his chips, shot her a playful glare. “You’re going to make me look like a slacker to millions of people.”

Giselle shrugged innocently. “Aren't you tho?”

"Kim Aeri, of course not." Y/n humped.

-

A few minutes later, Y/n gathered the group for their pre-show pep talk. The atmosphere was a mix of excitement and nerves, but they were more than ready. The girls stood in a loose circle, already in their stage outfits, their energy vibrating with anticipation. Y/n, still with a mischievous chip crumb on his shirt, cleared his throat, bringing the room’s attention to him.

“Alright, children,” he began, leaning against the wall casually. “First of all, ignore the chips incident. Let’s focus on the show.”

The girls laughed, and even Y/n couldn’t help but crack a smile. Once the laughter died down, he shifted into a more serious tone.

“This is a huge moment, well for me at least. You guys already had your first world tour already-”

"We know what you meannn" Ningning groaned. “Stop justifying yourself!”

"Jeez, just clarifying." Y/n continued, looking at each of them in turn. “We’re about to kick off a world tour, and it all starts here in Seoul. Everything you’ve worked for—every long night, every practice, every practice session—it’s all about to pay off tonight. You’re going to show the world why aespa is one of the best out there.”

Karina nodded, her usual calm confidence shining through. “We’ve got this.”

“We absolutely do,” Y/n agreed. “But I also want to remind you guys that, no matter what happens out there, have fun. This is what you’ve dreamed of. Don’t let the nerves or pressure get to you. Just... enjoy every second.”

Winter grinned, adjusting her earpiece. “Even if we mess up?”

“Especially if you mess up,” Y/n replied, smirking. “Because those are contents. And I'll have fun watching them.”

"Tsk. Of course." Winter chuckled.

The girls huddled together for a final cheer, their energy buzzing in the room.

“We’re ready,” Ningning said, her voice brimming with excitement.

Y/n gave them all a confident nod. “Go out there and kill it.”

"Ai-ai-aespa!!"

-

The group performances were nothing short of jaw-dropping. As soon as the girls hit the stage for the first number, "Drama," the crowd went wild. Their synchronization was perfect, each movement sharp and powerful. The fans sang along to every word, their voices blending with the pounding beat of the music. Y/n watched from backstage, his heart swelling with pride as they flawlessly executed every step.

Next up was "Black Mamba," and the energy in the arena reached new heights. Karina led the charge, her powerful voice echoing through the hall as she nailed each note with precision. Ningning’s high notes soared effortlessly above the crowd, while Winter’s confident presence drew cheers from every corner of the venue. Giselle’s rap verse hit like a tidal wave, her delivery smooth and charismatic.

As the group moved into their choreography, the crowd was on its feet, dancing along with the signature moves they’d spent weeks learning. The stage was a riot of color and light, with pyrotechnics bursting in the background, adding to the high-octane atmosphere.

But the real highlight of the night was when the group stepped off stage, and the individual solo performances began.

-

Giselle was the first to take the spotlight for her solo stage. Dressed in a sleek, black outfit that shimmered under the stage lights, she owned the stage with a charisma that captivated everyone. Her song was a sultry R&B track, showcasing her powerful vocals and flawless control. As she moved across the stage, the crowd was hypnotized, drawn in by her intensity and passion.

Basically, Gen Z in a song.

“She’s killing it,” Y/n muttered to himself, watching in awe.

Right after he said that, she accidentally twirled her microphone cord too hard, sending it flying into Ningning’s direction. Ningning, in typical fashion, caught it mid-air without breaking her expression, raising it high like a trophy. The fans went wild, and Giselle, laughing, gave Ningning a mock bow.

Next came Ningning. She emerged on stage in a alluring, girl-boss ensemble that perfectly contradict her bubbly personality. Her solo song was an chill, sultry number that had the entire audience groove in their seats. Ningning’s move was smooth, and she weaved around the stage with a such confidence that was impossible not to look at. Her vocals were, as always, stunning, and she hit every note with ease, making it seem effortless.

When it was Karina’s turn, everyone erupted with the beat. She strutted onto the stage, her outfit bold and edgy, perfectly matching her fierce and girl-crush persona. Her solo was a hard-hitting hip hop track, and she snag with such fiery intensity that had the crowd chanting her name. Karina's stage presence was undeniable, and the way she commanded the audience made it clear she was a force to be reckoned with.

Although, her in-ear monitor cut out at one point. Instead of panicking, she played it off by making exaggerated dance moves, gesturing dramatically to the crowd as if she was pulling them into an impromptu dance battle.

“Is she trying to start a riot?” Y/n muttered to himself, laughing as the crowd roared in approval.

Finally, the atmosphere shifted to something more ethereal when Winter descended to the stage. Her stage was bathed in soft blue lights, and her outfit was elegant, almost princess-like. The song she performed was an EDM track, but it was wayy too elegant to be a dance track. Her voice was soft but incredibly powerful, and the emotion behind her performance left many fans in awe. Y/n smiled as Winter sang her heart out, remembering that his childhood friend wants to defy expectations and deliver more.

As the girls finished their solo stages, the crowd was left breathless, and Y/n couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. They’d worked so hard for this moment, and it had paid off in the best possible way.

-

Backstage, Y/n watched the monitors, grinning. Despite the minor hiccups, the show was going off without a hitch. No major malfunctions, no logistical nightmares—everything was running smoothly.

By the time the last song ended and the confetti rained down on the stage, the girls were exhausted but exhilarated. They stumbled backstage, high on adrenaline, as the crowd’s cheers echoed through the walls.

Y/n was already waiting, leaning against the door with a proud smile. “You guys….Seriously. So fcking good.”

Ningning practically collapsed onto a chair, fanning herself. “That was insane.”

Karina nodded, catching her breath. “Best first stop ever.”

Giselle, still in full vlogging mode, swung the camera around again. “And our manager didn’t mess up once. Not a single time.”

“Wow,” Winter teased, “who are you and what have you done with Y/n?”

Y/n threw up his hands dramatically. “Oh shush. I've learned this time”

Karina, always quick to play along, raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

"3 sec-"

Before the teasing could escalate further, the door opened, and in walked members of other SM groups—Red Velvet, EXO, and even Taeyeon from Girls’ Generation—all here to congratulate aespa on the successful start to their world tour.

“Look at you guys,” Taeyeon said, beaming. “Kicking off the tour with a bang.”

Red Velvet’s Wendy nudged Y/n playfully. “You survived, huh? No more rookie mistakes?”

“Barely,” Y/n joked. “But yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of it. First time managing a world tour, you know?”

As the room filled with more laughter and celebration, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. The group had come so far, and he was right there with them, through all the chaos and triumphs.

-

Later that night, after most of the other artists had left, aespa and Y/n gathered in their dressing room for a final celebration. They were all sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes of snacks—fried chicken, tteokbokki, and kimbap—when Winter decided to share a story.

“So,” she began, her voice light and nostalgic, “when I was a kid, I used to dream about this exact moment. I told my mom I was going to be on a world tour one day. And do you know what she said?”

The girls and Y/n all leaned in, curious.

“She said, ‘That’s great, but don’t forget to study just in case,’” Winter finished with a grin, causing everyone to burst out laughing.

“That’s so typical,” Giselle said, shaking her head.

"Did you study though, unnie?" Ningning asked.

"Of course not, she got her ass whooped the day after when Auntie found out she hid her math test with a giant D". Recounting the story made Y/n laughed out loud, which the girls followed. Winter could only pouted.

“And now here you are,” Karina said, smiling warmly. “Living that dream.”

Winter nodded, her eyes shining with happiness. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, all reflecting on how far they’d come. Y/n looked around the room at the group, feeling a sense of peace settle over him. Despite all the teasing and chaos, this was where he belonged.

As they continued eating, Karina suddenly raised her chopsticks, pointing at Y/n. “Okay, but seriously—favorite solo song? Still Minjeong's”

The room immediately filled with groans and laughter as the girls pounced on the question. Y/n sighed, already knowing where this was going.

“Do we really have to do this again?” he asked, already bracing for the teasing.

“Oh, absolutely,” Winter said with a mischievous grin. “We need answers.”

Y/n looked around at their expectant faces before finally relenting. “Fine. It’s still the crybaby.”

The girls erupted in mock protests, with Ningning clutching her chest dramatically and Karina rolling her eyes.

“Of course it is,” Karina said, though she was smiling. “No loyalty at all.”

But Winter was grinning from ear to ear, clearly pleased with the answer. “I knew it.”

As they continued to joke and tease, Y/n felt the weight of the day melt away. The first stop of the tour was done, and it had been a massive success. Tomorrow, the world awaited—but for tonight, they were home.

-

As the night wound down, the girls began to drift off one by one. Karina was the first to call it a night, stretching her arms with a contented sigh. “I’m heading to bed. We’ve got another big day tomorrow.”

Ningning followed soon after, yawning dramatically as she stood up. “I’m not far behind. My feet are killing me.”

Winter gave Y/n a little nudge as she got up. “Don’t stay up too late, okay? You need your rest too.”

He smiled, waving her off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right behind you. Get up early tomorrow, everyone.”

As the last of them shuffled off to their rooms, the dorm finally fell quiet, the post-concert excitement settling into a peaceful calm. Y/n took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. It had been a long, exhilarating day, but there was still work to do.

Sitting at his laptop, Y/n began reviewing the bookings for the next stops on the world tour. He double-checked hotel reservations, transportation details, and local accommodations for each city. It was a meticulous process, but he wanted everything to be perfect. After all, this was his first time going overseas, and he didn’t want to mess anything up.

Just as he was about to finalize a few bookings, his phone buzzed. It was a message from Jihoon, one of the managers who had cycled through helping out while Y/n was on leave.

Jihoon:

Heard it’s your first time overseas. Check your account. A little something from me.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, curious. He quickly logged into his account, and his eyes widened in surprise. An extra allowance had been deposited—much more than he’d expected. Before he could even process it, his phone buzzed again. This time it was from Minji.

Minji:

First time going abroad, huh? Here’s a little extra for some fun. You earned it!

Y/n blinked, a little stunned. They were really doing this? A third buzz came almost immediately after—this one from Joon.

Joon:

Can’t let you experience overseas travel without some cushion. You’ll need it, trust me. Enjoy it!"

His phone buzzed one last time, and he checked it, shaking his head in disbelief. It was from the CEO himself.

CEO:

Evening, Y/n. First time traveling internationally? Make the most of it. You’ve worked hard, so this is a little thank you for taking the job and good work. Don’t worry about the girls—they’ll be in good hands while you enjoy yourself.

…"Does this mean I'm the official sugar baby now?"

Y/n sat back in his chair, letting out a long exhale, his heart full. He hadn’t expected this level of support, but it felt good—genuinely appreciated. For so long, he’d just been focused on doing his job, making sure everything ran smoothly. Now, with this extra allowance and the kindness of his colleagues, it felt like his efforts were being recognized in a way that truly mattered.

He closed his laptop, a smile playing on his lips. Tomorrow would be another long day, but for now, he could rest easy knowing that he had not only the group’s support but the backing of his fellow managers as well.

With a final glance at his phone, he stood up and stretched. Maybe tomorrow, after the concert prep, he’d start thinking about what to do with this unexpected gift. For now, though, he was ready to collapse into bed—his first overseas adventure awaited.

[millerscoffee]

the soft animal of your body

812 drabble | joel miller x reader

rating: G

warnings: fluff!, established relationship.  no use of y/n.

summary: you were working on a hobby, but got distracted by joel's cheeks.

A/N: inspired by this post he truly is pookie. look at those cheeks! inspired by "wild geese" by mary oliver, too. joely baby let the soft animal of ur body love what it loves, luv x. i vaguely proofread this, soz.

"You're lookin' at me," Joel's eyes were closed on when he laid down on the couch to 'rest his eyes' while you sat on the floor beside him. You were supposed to be working on a new hobby, cross stitching. However, you ended up gazing up at your partner more than anything else.

"I can't help it," a grin in your voice, you sat up on your knees to lean over and press your lips to the soft rebound of his cheeks. "You just keepin' these all to yourself, I want to bite them."

You made Joel laugh. A sound that felt like air-bound gold every time it happened, and it was a catalyst that made his eyes open to search for your own. "I'm just keepin' these to myself?" He asked as if he didn't hear you correctly, but you knew he did. He always repeated things back to you when it was something he found sweet or silly, or innately you. His fingers fan through your hair before thumbing over your chin. "Alright, go on then."

It took a long time, a lot of therapy, for him to open up to you like this. To be allow himself to be mushy, and furthermore allow himself to experience love. Your love. You had so much to give to him.

And you didn't waste a moment when he gave you the green light. Your arms crossed over one of his shoulders, using it to lean on as you brushed and pecked the suppleness of his skin. The stubble that adorned his cheeks down to the grey at his jaw. Peppered kisses on the skin around the wrinkle of his eye.

"You havin' fun?" Joel asked playfully, the eye that was being kissed shutting.

"I am, actually. I could make a living doing this."

"Kinda do. I just agreed on my cheeks, said nothin' bout my eyes."

"Too bad," you giggled, nose tipping against his temple, the scent of his shampoo relaxed your shoulders. And it seemed to do the same to him, relaxed even more into the couch when he nestled his head into the armrest.

"Baby, just c'mere." He beckoned you, opening his arm out for you to take it. You used it then, climbing on top of Joel to stretch out on top of him. You felt so loved, special that you got to witness his softness. His fingers found the hem of your shirt and swirled light patterns from the guitar-induced calloused tips. It tickled, but you weren't willing to stop him. You needed to feel him as much as he needed to feel you. Two tactile individuals at the end of the day.

So you laid on top of him, the softness of your lips skimmed against the taut skin of his neck. The freckles that resided there. There were countless days and nights you spent pressing your lips to those spots. To count them mentally.

"You keep kissin' everywhere but my cheeks, darlin'."

"Maybe if you were less kissable I wouldn't have this problem. You see my dilemma."

That earned an exhale through his nose, filtered through his moustache. "Yeah, I reckon," honey drawled through the syllables, "I guess I should consider myself lucky. Got so much restraint."

"Now you're gettin' it," you hummed, teeth nipping at the base of his earlobe.

"Easy."

"Or what?" Your threat was quickly replaced with sweet kisses to his cheek again. Not really ready to break up the tenderness of the moment. "Nice cheeks," you replaced your words with praises before he could get to you.

"Grew 'em myself." His arms wrapped around your waist to hold you in place, to keep you close. To give every indication that he wanted this too, in the ways he knew how.

"You want anything?" Joel asked, pulling away to get a good look at you with his eyes that had vision all too blurry to be this close to you. Part of you wondered if it was because he didn't know what to do next. Never one with words, quality time had the tendency to make him anxious. Like he had all this nervous energy that disallowed himself to just be. To just exist in the present moment on the couch with a sewing tomato abandoned on the floor.

You would always come back to him no matter what you were doing.

You sat up just enough on your forearms to push his hair back as if to say, you're doing so good. As if to shout, you are letting the softness of your body do what it wants and I'm so proud of you. As if to cry, you do not need to do or be anything for me to love you. You are enough as is. And nothing, absolutely nothing could ever be better than this.

"Just this, Joel. Just you."

taglist: @cool-iguana

[lilyisprtty]

𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦 & 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 <3

synopsis: how archie and his characters would cope with a reader who owns a kitty!!

warnings: kitty is refered to as a he/him and kitty.. IM SORRY I HAVE A MALE CAT AND I CANT KEEP SAYING IT </3

pinterest board to look at for visualisation

what to listen to while reading

a/n: time to get silly innit

𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙠𝙬𝙚

he'd simply love your cat and take it under his ownership immediately, he'd put cat dad in his bio and all

would ask you to take photos with his child and make sure to let his audience know about his baby (not you soz)

would be so careful of the kitty and would genuinely be it's new best friend

"archie!! i'm back!! you didn't specify what brand of chocolate you wanted so I guessed-" you began, walking into your home and shutting the door behind you.

"we have something to show you." your theatrical lover spoke, stood at the end of the entryway, holding your shared cat in his arms.

you nod slowly, humming an 'okay' as you let him guide you to your living room, watching him sit the cat down on his lap, facing you, before playing a child-like song on the tv.

as you take in what you're hearing, it's not long before you have to take in what you're seeing. archie, swaying your cat unwillingly by its arms to the simple rhythm of the tune, with a proud, proud smile on his face.

after a few minutes of this repetitive action, archie settles the cat down on his lap in a sitting position, waiting to receive your feedback.

"so, so good babe. both of you really, great job." you state, clapping gently with a praising smile.

ᒍᗩᑎᑎ ᗰᗩᖇᗪEᑎᗷOᖇOᑌGᕼ

that man would go high pitched "awwwwh!!" the minute he first saw your cat. he is NOT nonchalant, we know this.

hes taken your cat into his beloved car!! he wants kitty to experience it all

he always always holds your cat, every time he visits you, he takes him up into your room, makes sure it stays there and everything

jann releases a sigh of relief as he shuts the drivers seat door. he makes himself comfortable in the car and looks towards you with a big grin.

"do you have him love?" he asks, trying to repress his excitement to see his beloved son.

"yes, i'm clueless on how you convinced me to bring him." you think out loud, handing jann your cat, putting on your seatbelt as kitty makes himself comfortable on janns lap (jealous).

"because this is a great idea! he's gonna be a little driver like his dad." he imagines warmly, petting the kitty elegantly.

it's not long after jann turns on the engine and we're on the road, he obviously remains a consistent, comfortable speed, being cautious of the vulnerable creature in his lap.

While jann steers, he takes a look at you, not as tense as you were in the beginning of this experiment. "you see? you just had to trust the both of us." he claims, giving you a sarcastically cocky smirk.

OW!

"jesus! kitty, fuck!" jann yells shockingly, looking at the road ahead of him to make sure his sons betrayal doesnt lead to a crash.

"ah gosh, perhaps you're right. this really has made me gain more trust in kitty!" you utter through multiple giggles.

𝙵𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝

really hesitant at first, when he finds out you brought your cat with you to saltburn, he insisted you don't let it near him as cats are known to shed and smell and make you slave away for them.

it took a few days of course, but after those few days he was snuggled up with your cat like it was his own

such a big fan of teasing kitty and making sure its irritated, but then gets stroppy when it doesn't want to hang out with him for a bit, he also loves holding kitty like a baby.

"i mean you didn't HAVE to bring it. you just chose to because you have an obvious attachment to the creature." he accuses as he watches kitty get comfortable on HIS bed.

"farleigh you need to stop complaining, kitty's already here! stop whining over something you can't control," you rebuttal, tired of his whining. "i need to go downstairs to get his food and all that, please don't start any shit with him." you warn, leaving the room.

walking back up the stairs after a short trip around the mansion, you twist the doorknob open hoping to see your boyfriend and cat uninjured, little did you know...

"I- I had no idea how to stop this." farleigh stutters.

"right, yeah."

your cat lays, loafing on your fussy boyfriends chest as he lays in his bed.

"I'm guessing you laying on the bed while kitty was on it was like some sort of protest-" you start,

"yes, obviously." farleigh ends for you.

𝘒𝘢𝘪

big fan of holding kitty over his shoulder

he pretends like the cat has no effect on him, but is always for some reason, the only one whos found holding kitty.

always offers to take care of him and let you have holiday from him, but i think he just wants the cat.

you and kai were sat in his room, it was getting close to the time you guys needed to go to sleep at so kai had his durag on and all, sat up against the wall with kitty in his lap. you were laying on his bed normally, throwing ur legs over his.

kitty lays purring in his hold, stretched out and comfortable. kai can't help but admire the animal in his arms, the only other source of life he and all his other acquaintances have ever co-habituated with, and it chose him and his girlfriend? you guys still had to let everyone hang out with kitty though, ever since richard passed and sela took over, everyone's been more normal, therefore this cat is definitely more desired. fists lay against the door (complicated way of saying somebody knocked on the door x ).

"what is it?" kai raises his voice so he's heard through the door, not wanting to get up.

"can we please hang out with kitty for only 30 minutes!" a voice shouts back, presumably one of your many friends.

kai looks at you with an extremely disappointed and frustrated look, you give him a telling one back. one that says "you agreed to this". because you know, he did.

he rises, the cat thrown over his shoulder, one of his arms holding kitty stable while he unlocks his door and grimaces at one of the girls in front of him (i dont know any names can you tell).

"lay your arms out properly, make sure to support his legs otherwise he'll be uncomfortable." he instructs, as the girl complies he sighs.

"if he's not back by 30 minutes i'll break down your door." he threatens while he watches the girl take his cat, hearing a tut and a warning from you.

taglist: @firemenenthusiast

[damnasstyles]

I just sent a request but didn't realize i literally sent that same exact one like months ago omg I'm embarrassed. .. but can you do a dad!harry one of his first time alone with the baby 😭

hii!! i’m so sorry it’s taken me forever to write this, but it’s finally here! hope you like it! ❤️

*jesus i'm editing this on august 2024, i had completely forgotten i'd never published this lol, soz. anyways! edited it a bit and finished it so here you go! x*

880 words. Enjoy! x

_______

Ottilie was 12 weeks old and it had been over four months since yn had been out with her friends, whether that'd been for lunch, dinner, a party or just a coffee. This is why Harry had arranged for her to have a day out with her friends. Well, more than arranged, he strongly encouraged her to go out with them. She had been turning them down ever since Ottilie was born, but it was about damn time she got some quality yn time and get away from the mommy role for just a few hours.

This, of course, led to the situation Harry was in right now: covered in puke with a crying and smelly baby who refuses to leave her father’s arms. 

“C’mon, sweet pea, we gotta take the onesie off and shower, alright? It’ll be twoooo seconds” He rocked her back and forth for a few more seconds before laying her down on the changing mat, which caused her to shriek harder than before. “I know, baby girl, III know, it’s alright, it’s okay” He tried to calm her down while getting her clothes off as quick as he can, his hand tickling her belly gently in an effort to cheer her up. "It’s ookaay, babyyy, look! All ready! Let’s take a warm bath to make you feel better, yeah?” He undressed himself at quick speed and opened the water tap. There was no way he was going to bathe her by herself since she was so fussy, not having as much skin to skin contact with her daddy as possible would make her even fussier. Such a daddy's girl.

He leaned forward over her and lifted her up, laying her on his chest, before walking into the walk-in shower. He had grabbed a small towel to cover Ottie with before walking in, so warm water would soak her but not fall directly over her. The warmth of Harry's chest, the soft drops of water on her back and her daddy's heartbeat seemed to soothe her a bit, though she could not seem to settle down fully.

"That's much better isn't it, bug? Hm?" A soft head kiss always made his heart flutter. "We have nice warm water now, and we're getting cleaned uupp" His soft tone never failed to soothe Ottie. From the moment he knew he was going to be a father, he started reading parenting books like it was his new religion. There was one specific chapter he read that stuck with him the most. It focused on the language development of the baby, and how narrating what was happening to them built better language foundations and encouraged faster acquisition. Since he'd read that book, he'd talk to the belly every single day without fail. Most days it'd be for an hour, but even in the most exhausting days he'd never skip at least a 10 minute monologue with Ottie in utero.

"Is your tummy hurting again, little bug? S'that why you got sick all over daddy and did a big explosive poo? That's okay, it happens to the best of us. We'll finish this niice shower in a minute, and we'll do some bicycle legs once you're in your cosy little pyjamas hm? How's that sound?" He booped her nose playfully with a soft and loving smile, making Ottie squint just a bit before letting out a soft sound, a mix between a giggle and a whine.

Once little Ottie was thoroughly clean, Harry stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped her into a new clean and dry towel, making sure she was well wrapped before he laid her down on the changing table and pulled his dirty boxers back on. He'd get a proper shower and change of clothes once Ottie was more settled.

He put Ottie into a fresh nappy and cosy pyjamas in record time, and took her to his and yn's bed. After he sat himself against the headboard, he laid Ottie between his spread legs, on the mattress. "Theeeee wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round. The wheels on the bus go round and round, aaall daaay looonggg" Harry sang as he moved her little baby chubby legs up and down, one at a time, at the same time, side to side, circle-wise, any way that'd help her release the suspected gas inside her. And it worked! The moment he pushed both her leggies up and against her belly at the same time, gently yet firm, she let one rip that it made the bed covers shake! "Oop!" He said stopping his singing, little Ottie let a cute relieved "ah" sigh before a big smile and squeal appeared on her face. Harry bursted out laughing as she picked her up and kissed her cheek repeatedly. "That was one naaasty gas, bubba! Good job!"

****************

If you want to read more about harry and ottie's adventures, check out my masterlist here and feel free to send in requests!

[roses-r-rosie3]

Holiday Drama

Dick Grayson x M!Reader

Warning: Crack, Jason bring really nosy, Fluff

Summary: The reader is keeping a secret and Jason is gonna help Dick get to the bottom of it

A/n: This is TOTALLY not based on that one episode of modern family

Quote: “That’s definitely not how I thought this night would go”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jason was as bored as one could be. I mean yeah, it was Christmas, and yeah, he loved his family. But there was no drama! One may say that there was no flavor!

This year for the holidays, you and Dick decided to host a dinner at your place. So Jason… being… well.. Jason.. he decided if there wasn’t any drama that he knew of, maybe there was drama someone else knew of.

“Sooo Dick, what’s up with you and you and y/n? I’m sensing some tension” Jason asked.

Jason did not in-fact sense any tension. He just saw that you were helping Alfred cook, while Dick just sat down on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through channels on the tv. So he figured it was a safe bet.

“There is tension” Dick gasped.

Jason squealed in the inside. Finally! Something interesting! So he excitedly sat next to Dick on the couch listening to all that Dick had to say.

“Okay so, first of all, you know how he’s always extra crazy about this dinner. So every Christmas I jokingly complain about having to go home with to see his family. And this year, he said I don’t have to go, and he was totally cool about it” Dick said.

“Oh no, super fishy. So you didn’t find any clues while you were looking inside his luggage?” Jason asked.

“I didn’t go through his luggage..” Dick said.

“It’s like you want your relationship to fall apart, come on follow me” Jason sighed.

After some digging in your suitcase, Jason managed to find a first class ticket to

“Y/n why do you have a first class ticket to (Random place [soz im a bit lazy])?” Dick confronted.

“Not now, and why are you digging in my suitcase?” You asked.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but I need y/n to help me in the kitchen” Alfred said.

“Can we get back to the first class ticket thing what are we hiding?” Jason said

“Okay, I’m not sure what you have to do with this, but I bought that ticket because I’m going on a holiday trip” you said.

“You? The same person who refuses to even let me buy you something expensive?” Dick questioned.

“Can we talk about this later, I gotta help Alfred with the food” you said before walking away.

Dick and Jason sat back on the couch, talking about what just happened.

“Do you really think y/n bought himself a first class ticket?” Dick asked.

“Isn’t he like poor? Doesn’t he like, eat stuff from your backyard?” Jason questioned.

“He likes planting, yes” Dick responded

“We’ve gotta dig deeper, get y/n’s phone, check his texts” Jadon said.

“That’s an invasion of privacy I don’t even know his passcode” Dick said uneasily.

“I just need his face. I do it all the time with… uh… people” Jason said before walking up to you.

“Hey y/n, I forgot my phone in my car and I wanna take a picture of me and my favorite future brother-in-law at his gorgeous dinner” Jason smiled.

“That’s very flattering but-”

Jason ignored you and just took your phone before pretending to take a selfie. You immediately looked into the camera and smiled.

“Oh my god that looks so good, I’m gonna text it to myself” Jason

“We’re in” Jason

“Y/n, what’s up with your trip with you’re family, you’re parents don’t even know you’re gonna be there, ‘Happy holidays, wish you could spend it with us this year’” Dick

“First of all how are you snooping through my phone- You! That was false selfie” you

“You know what, forget it- forgiven. I just want today to be a special Christmas, let’s just sit down and enjoy the food” you

The entire time, Jason was whispering to everyone about the whole plane ticket thing. Before you knew it, everyone knew about it and started asking you questions. Now that everyone knew, you might as well have told them. You decided to get up from your seat and make an announcement.

“Hey everyone, I know you guys must have heard about the whole plane ticket thing, and I know everyone must be very suspicious. But the truth is…” you paused.

“Is he pausing to be dramatic or..?” Tim asked.

“What do you think?” Dick scoffed.

“The truth is, I’m planning on a new house in (random place)” You revealed.

Everyone was in shock at first, but then the questions came flooding.

“You guys are moving?!”

“What?!”

“Really?!”

“Moving?!”

“EVERYBODY STOP FOR ONE SECOND PLEASE!” Dick spoke up.

“Why didn’t you just tell me y/n?” Dick asked.

“I wanted to surprise you” you said.

“Now that the cat is out of the bag, I have another surprise” you smiled sheepishly.

“Dick, when I met you, I was immediately love struck. When we finally got together I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you” you said as you got to your knees and pulled out a box from your pocket.

“So I guess what I’m trying to say is, Richard John Grayson, will you marry me?” You smiled.

“Yes” Dick nodded as tear started to form in his eyes.

Everyone started to cheer as you put the ring on Dick’s finger. When you got up from your knee’s Dick immediately gave you a long, loving kiss.

“I love you so much” Dick sobbed with tears of joy as he hugged you.

“That’s definitely not how I thought this night would go” Jason mumbled.