#this took much longer than i wanted it to be originally but its okay i love them

[jettorii]

CANN I REQUEST LEE!PUSS AND LER!KITTY?

continuation from this post :)

[xitsensunmoon]

My first ever comic con! And first cosplay too. Of course it's gonna be my boy :] Ramblings about the process are under the cut(Let me know if?? You would want me to elaborate with process images for any of the steps?)

The costume took me forever to make, as I've never done any machine sewing, sculpting, fabric dying or spray painting before but learning all of these was so fucking fun!! I never realised just how many different skills go into making a cosplay but it was so worth it!!!

Almost all of the clothes(except the hat) were purchased first as bases, but all of the detailing was added by me. All of the fabric used was originally just scraps that I was given for free so I needed to learn how to dye and dye all of the stars, they were originally white.

The sewing machine was its own beast that brought me tons of frustration from the lack of skill and knowledge (it was devastating to find out that 95% of fuck ups were my fault and not the machine's lmao). But as a result, a hat sewn from scratch, all of the fur trims, embroidery on the corset, stars and the collar(which is very hard to see on the pictures unfortunately) was all added manually. The stars and the stripes(on the back of the cape) were attached using heat-and-bond adhesive (I WISH I knew about such thing just when I started working on this. It would save me so much time and nerves.)

Then I found out about polymorph(mouldable plastic) and it has become the next thing I wanted to learn, to sculpt the claws and the fangs(yes, they're handmade jfksjs). The claws I then primed and painted in trillion coats because I wasn't satisfied with the colour of the spray paint. The fangs I moulded to my own teeth and then stained with tea to match the colour of my teeth :)c

As for makeup, I used Mehron Paradise water activated paints. At first I wanted to try to save money and bought myself Snazaroo instead, which unfortunately turned out to be a waste. Snazaroo didn't hold on my face for longer than 2 hours, cracking and peeling awfully. Mehron on the other hand survived 11 hours of me smiling, talking, emoting and such and didn't even crease at the smile lines(I'm actually shocked about that). It obviously works like any other makeup which means your skin texture and wrinkles won't go anywhere but Mehron's elasticity pleasantly surprised me. It did obviously smear from sweat and saliva(if you're eating and licking your lips) but if you don't touch the skin it just dries again, self setting. But if it's dry it's fully smear-proof. Highly recommend!

And last but not least, I've decided against painting my hands as it was very risky that I will stain everything I touch at the smallest hint of sweat. So instead I got myself gloves-tights(? Not sure how they're called but it's made from the same fabric as tights) and painted them with normal acrylic paint(did you know you could dye fabric with acrylic paint? I personally didn't), then heat set with an iron and voilà, they're reusable, my hands are not stained after an exhausting day and I don't stain everything I touch. It worked wonderfully which honestly was a surprise as I was really sceptical that acrylic paint will somehow stay in place.

I think this whole thing took me minimum of 6 months with big-big breaks for my school and life in general. But I'm really proud! This project taught me so many new skills and I couldn't have been happier about learning new knowledge, even if it sucked to fail in the meantime.

Everyone at the con was really nice and gave me a large confidence boost even tho it was my first time and I had no idea what I was doing. Taking photos with other people was really awkward/new for me as I hate cameras so I really had no idea how to pose/behave in front of one. But that's okay I think. This whole experience definitely made me want to do this again, so I think that will come with experience. Thank you for reading this far, hope you enjoyed this little summary :)

[endlessthxxghts]

Bend Over

Javier Peña x afab!reader || W/C: 4.8k

Summary: Your dresser craps out on you. Your boyfriend, Javier, comes with you to IKEA to buy a new one. Then, he fucks you on it.

Content/Warnings: I think you know what you guys are getting into based on the summary😗. Reader is able-bodied. Slight implied physical descriptors Javi is taller than reader, and the IKEA dresser is slightly bigger/taller than you (everything else is neutral - no size descriptions - ex. "your form", etc.). Pet names (good girl, querida, cariño, baby, baby girl, mama, mi amor). Implied that reader knows Spanish. A little allusion to our favorite contractor, Joel Miller (blink and you’ll miss it). SMUT 18+ MDNI. Public sexual activity (exhibitionism). Finger fucking. Edging. Slight undertones of BDSM dynamics. Javi’s filthy mouth. Thigh riding. Hickey/marking. P in V unprotected sex. Choking. Breeding kink (I’m not sorry). Cum play. Anal play. Brief pussy licking + rimming. Allusion to further sexual activity. I thiiiink that’s it… let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: HIII I’M BACK! I went to ikea to buy a new dresser. And the thots between @javierpena-inatacvest and I ran wild. So, this was born.👹 Also, I no longer have a tag list, but I teased this story TWICE in some WIP tag games, and a few of you were giving me so much love and wanting me to let you know when this story was posted, so I’m adopting the tag list (at da bottom) one last time to say how much I love you all. 🥹 I’m sorry this took me so long. Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!!

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG

It was supposed to be just a trip to IKEA. It was supposed to be a productive day of building your dresser and rearranging your room. That is what it was supposed to be. 

How it ended up with you getting your guts rearranged on top of said dresser—you’re not so sure. But, considering this is Javier Peña you’re talking about, maybe you have a slight indication of why your day ended up the way it did. 

It was early this morning when your dresser decided to shit on you; all you did was slide the door open, and it completely pulled off of its hinge. Now, you don’t mind a doorless dresser, it’s modern, you tried to convince yourself, but when you pulled out the second drawer and the wood snapped in half, scattering your panties all over the ground—yeah, okay, it was definitely time for a new one. 

You called your boyfriend after you cleaned up your clothes, and asked if he wanted to come with you on your hunt for the new piece of furniture. Why are you even asking? he scolded as he saddled up into his Jeep and made his way to your place. 

He stepped out of his seat in the driver side, rounding the hood to pull you in for a lengthy kiss as he pulled the passenger side door open for you. “Well, hello to you, too, baby,” you giggle as you break the kiss for a breath of air. He leaves a slap to your ass as he guides you by your hips into the passenger seat. He even buckles you in, stealing one more kiss before you two head off. 

You thought shopping for a new dresser would be simple: get in, choose a sizable one that could fit everything your previous dresser could, and also make sure it matches the rest of your room’s theme. Simple, right? Wrong. As long as Javier was involved, he took his sweet time really studying each option you were pointing out—analyzing it to ensure it wouldn’t crap out on you like your original one did. 

“How long did you have this dresser?” He asked as he was pulling into the IKEA parking lot. 

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you thought, “maybe a few years?”

“A few years?!” Javier asked, exasperated. “Where the hell did you find that fucking thing?”

You let a beat of silence pass before you answered. “...I thrifted it,” you admit weakly. 

Javier puts the car in park, his face in utter shock at what just came out of your mouth. “Querida, what-” he starts. 

You pull him in immediately, shutting him up with your lips against his. It works, of course. “Let’s go?” you ask. 

“Y-yeah, vamos (let’s go),” he says, flustered. 

“Javi, c’mon,” you whine, feeling exhausted after his analysis on your third option since the first two didn’t pass the Peña inspection. “Since when were you a contractor? The first two were perfectly fine, baby, it’s IKEA for crying out loud.”

He scoffs. “Living on the ranch with Pop,” he replies to your sarcastic remark. “You and I are both aware I know my way around some handiwork,” he adds as he looks back to you, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face. 

You want to roll your eyes, but you can’t help the way your body ignites to the suggestion laced in his words. “Pendejo,” you mutter to yourself, fighting the heat from making it to your face. 

You walk around some more while your boyfriend opens every nook and cranny of the wooden frame, but then right as you turn your body, you find it. The dresser. HEMNES. You quickly make your way to it, running your hands along the dark brown surface, crouching down to open up and see how much space is in the drawers—which, it’s very spacious. The drawer itself is taller than your waistline, probably reaching just at your belly button. It’s perfect. “Baby, wait, come here! I think I found one!” You call out. 

Javier follows your voice, intrigued by your excitement—you didn’t show this much enthusiasm with the other ones he was looking at. He rounds the corner and is met with quite a view. You are bending over the top of the dresser, on your tippy toes, trying to feel for the depth of the dresser. He sees you settle your hands at the edges of the top and shake it a little, testing out its durability while also unknowingly wiggling your ass. Fuck me, he thinks. Quickly adjusting his pants, he makes his way to you, situating his body directly against yours as he cages you in. 

“Jav-” you softly gasp, not expecting to feel him. Immediately you’re pulling yourself up, still on your tippy toes, but your back is now flush against his chest. 

“Ay, Dios mío,” he grunts as he whispers in your ear, “Querida, please get up.” His hands are on your hips, pulling you away from the dresser. You turn in his hold, a giggle leaving your throat as you look at his stressed out expression, realizing why his reaction was so pained. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask him quietly. “Saw something you like, huh?” You pull him in by his neck, kissing the side of his mouth before you pull away from him completely. Gesturing to the dresser, you ask, “Does this one pass the inspection, sir?” 

He glares at you before he replies. “Yeah, let’s get this one.”

Your eyebrow quirks up. “You didn’t even look at it.” 

“I saw enough, cariño,” he says gruff, looking at the tag on the display and taking note of which aisle the box will be at. 

You know your man well enough to know when he’s turned on, and that little unintentional stunt you pulled when making sure HEMNES was the right dresser for you—oh, it absolutely sent him over the edge. You decided to let him brew in his own arousal until you checked out your purchase, but the moment you set foot in his car again, you were set on starting something you wanted him to finish. 

“Thank you again for coming with me, baby,” you say as he settles back into the driver seat, your hand taking its seat on his upper thigh. 

The muscle twitches underneath your palm. “Mhm,” he mutters, voice wavering at your contact. Just as Javier puts the car in drive, he’s immediately pushing it back to park because your hand slides higher, closer, to the hardening bulge between his legs. His hips softly buck into your grasp; you take one look at him, and you can see the veins in his neck popping. A victory smile graces your face as his turns into a scowl. “What are you doing?”

You feign as much innocence as possible. “What am I doing? I’m just saying thank you, baby, I can’t tell you thank you?” 

“Right,” he says unconvinced. Your fingers continue to draw little shapes across the strained material of his pants. You go to cup him entirely, but the strength of his hand stops you. 

He releases your hand and gets out of the car, the car still running. He is at your side faster than you can take your own seatbelt off. He’s pulling your door open and giving you no chance for debate, his hand wraps around your jaw and pulls you into a bruising kiss—a messy yet calculated dance of teeth and tongue, and in pulling away he’s biting your bottom lip, pulling the sweetest little desperate whimper from your throat. He clocks the way your hips softly grind into his seat. 

“J-jav,” your voice shakes, “w-what are you doing-”

His grip on your jaw tightens, giving you a little shake as he speaks. “You had your fun, cariño,” he breathes. “My turn now.” 

His hand leaves your face and snakes down the front of your body, unzipping your jeans as you just stare wildly at the sight below you, your breathing erratic as your body anticipates his next move. 

“We- we’re in the fucking parking lot still, Javi!” You whisper yell at him, pissed, even though your body is doing absolutely nothing to stop him. He smirks at that fact. You want this. 

“Guess you’ll just have to keep quiet for me, yeah?” His fingers slip past your jeans, past your underwear, and you’re fucking soaked. His middle and ring finger bypass your clit, circling your entrance to gather the wetness accumulating before he comes back up to circle your throbbing bud. 

“Oh, fuck,” you yelp out, your eyes rolling back and your hips pushing into his hand as you hiss out in the pleasure. At your volume, Javi’s quick to stop his ministrations, cupping your mound and squeezing you as a warning. If the space allowed, you know he would’ve slapped your cunt. This alternative is equally as dizzying. 

“Open your eyes, baby,” he rasps. Your eyes flutter open. “You see all these people, huh? You want them to see you? See my good girl getting finger fucked in broad fucking daylight?”

“F-fuck, Jav” you whimper, much quieter this time, as your eyes land back on your man’s as you try and grind yourself on him. Javi’s fingers find your entrance then, sliding in with ease as a new wave of arousal pours out of you. 

“Oh, you like that idea, don’t you?” His fingers speed up their momentum as he adds his thumb into the mix, hurtling you much closer to your finish line than you anticipated. 

“Baby, I’m c-close, I’m- fuck- I’m gonna cum, Javi, I-” you bring your hand up over your mouth to stifle the sobs that are about to leave your mouth.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna give us a show?” He asks, his breathing just as erratic as yours. All you need is one more little push from his thumb on your clit, and then-

“No!” you cry.

Right as you were about to fall over the edge, Javier completely pulls his fingers out of you, standing up straight as he licks his fingers off. Your hips don’t realize he left you as they buck a few more times, chasing the feeling of what could have been. 

“Baby, please, I was so close,” you heave, your heart rate equivalent to that of a hummingbird. 

Javier leans down into the car, slotting his lips against yours terribly slow; your taste lingers on his tongue. He pulls away. “Sorry, mama,” he whispers. “Only I get to see you fall apart like that.” 

He zips and buttons your pants up, leaving you a stunned, aroused, wet mess as he makes his way back to the driver seat and pulls out of the parking spot, driving back to your place as if nothing even happened. 

The drive home is short, but it feels like the longest drive you’ve ever had to endure. He rests his hand on your thigh the entire time, squeezing you every now and then as his pinky leaves featherlight touches where you need him most. He talks to you during the drive—about what, you honestly have no clue, but it seemed the conversation was enough for him to sustain alone. 

You’re brought out of your daze when his hand grabs your jaw, turning you to look at him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, knowing damn well what’s got your head in the clouds. 

The throbbing between your legs remained consistent—worse, even—on the drive home, so no you’re not fucking okay. You don’t tell him that, though. “Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your vocal cords to string together something coherent. 

He pulls your lips to his—a lingering one, one that has your mind slipping further. Breaking the embrace, he says softly, “Go unlock the door, amor, while I carry the box in, yeah?” 

On wobbly legs, you make your way to your door, missing the hole a few times but eventually the key slides in with ease. You toss them into the bowl on the entryway table, making your way to the kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water to contain yourself until Javier comes inside. 

Apparently, you’re way more distracted than you thought, because one gulp down and he’s behind you—hands on your waist, mouth on your neck. You set the glass down a little harshly, its weight suddenly increasing tenfold with the way he’s on you. 

“Baby,” you whine, your head falling back onto his shoulder. “Please.”

Your boyfriend is turning you around then, turning you to face him, and his mouth is on yours, licking and sucking as his body pushes you up against the fridge, your head landing with a soft thud as his mouth starts to descend down your neck while his fingers work your buttons and zipper for the second time today. 

He’s pulling your bottoms down to your ankles—they’re loose on your form, so they don’t restrict you too much from opening your legs when he slots his thigh in between you, hitting right against your core. 

His lips never leave you, biting and kissing every inch he can reach while his hands find their home at the globe of your asscheeks, securing his grip as he begins a steady pace of your crying pussy back and forth on his clothed thigh. 

“Just like that, cariño, I can feel you fluttering on me already, holy fuck,” he groans as he continues his assault on your chest, leaving pretty bruises all over the valley of your breasts. “Making such a mess, pretty girl,” he mutters into your skin. 

Your hands snake to the curls at the back of his head, yanking them as he brings you back closer and closer to the finish line. He brings his lips back to yours sloppily, one hand leaving your ass to paw at your chest, his fingers rubbing and twisting at your nipples; they harden in his touch.

Your eyes struggle to stay open, his tight jeans providing the yummiest friction against your clit. “I- I’m gonna- please, Jav, I- I need to cum,” you sob. 

His hand at your chest snakes down your body, following the path to your sex. Just as you think he’s about to slip his hands between your legs, his hand changes direction, both hands going up to grip your waist to stop you from moving. His thigh leaves your core, and you’re fighting—your hips chase his muscle, your fingers scrambling to pull him flush against you, but he doesn’t budge. It’s no use. Your high is gone again, painfully forced back to the start line as Javier bends down to grab your panties and work their way back up your legs. 

You’re a heaving mess, tears falling from your eyes as pathetic little protests fall from your lips. 

Exhausted, you sigh and finally blurt out, “Javier Peña, what the fuck are you doing?” 

You can see the faintest shit-eating smirk fall on his face before he mirrors what you did earlier: feign innocence. “Gotta go build your dresser, mi amor.” 

“I can fucking build it later.” 

“But I’m already here. I’ll do it.” 

“Yeah, but your presence is needed elsewhere,” you say, annoyed. You faintly gesture to your sobbing cunt, silenced by your soaked underwear. 

“But if I’m here, I’ll do it, so you don’t have to,” he says, placing a chaste kiss to the side of your mouth. 

“Javi,” you whine, hoping a thousand different ways of are you fucking serious right now translates to him in the tone of your sexual frustration. 

“Just sit pretty for me while I go do it real quick, okay, cariño?” 

Not giving you the chance to respond, he drags you by the wrist to your bedroom, forcing you to get settled in the reading chair you have in there—a prime spot to watch him get all sweaty as he works. Great. 

You wouldn’t have riled him up if you had known this was the kind of torturous game he had in mind. 

Twenty minutes in, and Javier is sweating alright, but it’s not for the reasons you’re thinking. Yeah, it’s a physical strain building this dresser, but this is fucking light work for him. 

No, he’s sweaty, sticky, and disgustingly hot because his dick is at his full potential, throbbing and leaking at everything you put him through—and everything he put himself through, pulling you to the brink of orgasm twice without letting you fully submit to it. He damn near always gets off when you do, and teasing you like this teases him just as much, if not more. 

He’s almost done, he just has one more drawer to put together and slide into place, but he takes a step back and uses his arm to wipe the sweat across his forehead, his breathing heavy during the action. It takes everything in you not to completely melt at what he’s forcing you to witness, a faint whimper escaping you at the sight of him. 

It takes him barely a minute to get the last drawer assembled before he attempts sliding it into place. It goes in with ease at first, but before it can fully shut, the drawer gets stuck, unable to close by an inch. What the fuck, he mutters under his breath, lifting it up and wiggling to see if it’s just a kink inside the railing. Your jaw falls a little open at the vulgarity of his mouth; you are way too wound up and everything he’s doing right now has your pussy doing backflips, somersaults, cartwheels—you name it. She’s very eager. 

Fed up with the drawer, Javier completely opens the drawer and then slams it shut, using his hips to give the drawer a full-force push. The slam of the wood is deafening, but it does nothing to hide the sweet little gasp that comes out of you, his cock twitching at the sound. 

A high-pitched, breathy squeak of an oh fuck leaves your mouth, and Javier turns to check on you. He sees your fingers skating down your front, running your middle and ring finger over your soaked center, your clit’s fire immediately reigniting at the contact. 

“¿Cariño?” He calls, a sternness evident in his tone. You know not to test that tone. Your fingers�� movements pause, your eyes meet his and they’re dark. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jesus fuck, he doesn’t even know if he has the strength to fuck you like he was planning on, the sight of you touching yourself has a fire igniting through every vein in his body. 

Your eyebrows are furrowed, nervousness written all over your face. “I…um, I-” you start. 

“Get up,” he cuts you off. 

“What?” You say softly, your brain already scrambled eggs and unable to register what he just asked of you. 

His singular eyebrow raises as he stalks closer to you, his hard gaze looking down at you as your pussy cries even more at the attention. Now his command registers, and you’ll be damned if you have to make him repeat himself. 

You remove your hand from your center, lifting yourself off your chair. He snags you by your waist, pulling your body flush against his front as he steals the breath from your lungs, your tongues meeting hungrily. You moan into his mouth, your hands slowly wrapping around his neck, but before you can grip his sweet curls, he’s pulling away from you, your surprised gasps blessing his ears as he flips you roughly but with ease towards the direction of your new dresser, already in its place secured against the wall. 

“Javi,” you whimper again for what feels like the millionth time already. 

“Dime qué quieres, cariño,” (tell me what you want) he rasps in your ear, his hands skating down your front and resuming what you so desperately started.

“F-fuck-” you start, “fuck me, Javi, please, please fuck me,” you beg, your heart stuttering as he dips his middle finger into your entrance.

He kisses your temple as your eyes fall shut, a contrastingly sweet gesture for the way he’s about to ruin you right now. 

“Then bend over.” 

Now that sobers you up a little. You start to crane your neck in his direction. “W-what?” But he’s quick to grab your jaw, bringing your eyes back to your dresser. “Go do what you were doing earlier, baby. Bend over that dresser for me,” he says, soft but stern, then he’s taking a step back, letting you get there on your own. 

So hooked on his body heat, you can’t help the shudder that leaves you, but ultimately you’re making your way to your new dresser—picking yourself up on your tippy toes to lean over the top, just like you were doing with the store’s floor model. “L-like this?” You ask, voice trembling in anticipation. You stick your ass out a little extra for good measure. 

You hear his belt buckle before you register his deep grumble. “Yeah, baby,” he tells you, slowly making his way to your backside. “So good for me,” he breathes, his fingers hooking into the hem of your underwear and letting them fall to the ground. You step out of them, knowing his next step is gonna be to nudge your legs further open—and he does, using his foot to nudge both of yours outwards. 

He runs his middle finger through your slick as he lets his jeans fall, your hips push further into his touch, chasing the pleasure you’ve been buzzing for all morning. 

“Baby, please,” he hears escaping your mouth. 

“Nuh uh, baby,” he tuts, “I told you. You had your fun already, it’s my turn.” 

He runs his fingers through your wet seam, properly soaking his digits before he brings his hand to his own arousal, covering himself in your slick. He groans at the feeling. Javier crowds himself behind you, his tip immediately mirroring the path of his fingers. He catches himself against your clit, and he smirks at the wrecked sounds of your heavy breathing. 

He pushes himself into you, slow and steady, getting you comfortable in his size. His fingertips are digging little bruises into your hips—his way of grounding himself from absolutely pummeling into you from the get go. 

You two have been together for quite some while, but Javi knows he’s big. It’s evident in the way you mewl and convulse every time he’s inside of you. Too big to get used to, yet perfect for the slight tinge of pain he knows you love. 

“Baby, please move,” you pant. 

“You sure, cariño?” He says softly, his dominant demeanor fading to make sure you’re alright. 

You reach back to grab onto his hand and drag it up your own body, settling his long digits around the base of your neck. With a squeeze of your hand over his: “Fuck me, Jav, please.” 

At your queue, he’s pushing himself into you entirely. “Yeah, baby?” He snarls. “Want me to fuck you like this?” His hips form a hard pace, your hips digging into the ledge of the dresser. “This what your pretty little pussy wants, huh? What she’s been fucking crying for, baby?”

“Fuck-” you gasp. “Fuck, yes- Javi, yesyesyes! Amor, please,” you wail, your eyes rolling back as the pressure of his fingers on your neck restrict your blood flow, filling your body with a euphoria only he can give you. 

His eyes scan down your body, taking in every inch of you with nothing but pure adoration. The sweetness fades when his eyes zone in on where your two centers meet. He lets out an audible moan at the sight, sending your pussy fluttering at the sound. “Look at you, bebita, fucking creaming on me, holy fuck,” he groans, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

“I- I’m close, baby, fuck-” your breath stutters. “Touch me, Jav, I- I need you,” you moan. 

“Shh, I’ve got you, mi amor.” Javi’s hand on your throat leaves you and coasts down your spine, his grip fixing itself on the globe of your ass. 

He reaches down with his thumb to gather some of your slick, dragging it up to your tight, more inexperienced hole. You gasp when you feel it, your ass bucking further into his touch. “Oh, my baby girl likes that? You like your ass being played with, cariño?” He taunts, hooking his thumb inside. “Want to me to fuck you there next time?”

“Fuck- yes- please,” you whimper, your pussy fluttering around him at his words. His other hand snakes to your front and reaches for your clit, drawing tight, calculated circles on you. “Oh, fuck-!” you yell out.

“That’s it, baby, fucking- dámelo, fucking soak me, querida” he forces out between his teeth. Your body twitches in his grasp, knuckles stark white against your dresser, eyes clamped shut as you cry out in the overwhelming pleasure consuming every inch of your body. “Fuck,” he groans, your sounds forcing his balls to pull taut. Javi’s fingers speed up along with his thrusts, hurtling you towards your long-awaited climax. 

It’s overstimulating, him fucking into you so harshly as every nerve ending in your body pops off like fireworks. Yet, you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you, the way his pace stutters for barely a second, and you know he’s close. It’s overstimulating, yes, but you want, no, need him to continue, you need him to chase his own finish line—you need him to root himself so deep inside you, you’ll feel traces of him for months on end. 

“You’re close, I can feel it,” you gasp, building your own rhythm of your hips to help him along. “Need it, baby, need you inside of me,” you pant, your voice desperate. You pull yourself off the dresser and push your back into his chest, both his hands leaving your body to grip onto the darkwood, caging you in. 

“Yeah?” you feel his heavy breath fan across your cheek. “Tell me how fucking’ bad, querida, wanna hear it,” he says, voice strained.

You look back at him as best you can in this angle, your lips ghosting his jaw as the slick sounds of you grow louder. “Need you so bad even plan B can’t help us- God- please cum inside of me, Javier Peña, fucking give it to me,” you beg, your moans echoing the walls and rattling every fibre of his being, pushing his body into a state of pure ecstasy as he begins to empty himself into you. 

“Oh…fuck,” he grunts, his hips coming to a halt as he nearly wheezes through his orgasm. Once the sensitivity calms down, Javi pumps himself in and out of you a few more times for good measure, pushing his load deep inside of you. You can feel the way he slides in with a wet ease, and it makes butterflies in your belly erupt, a small gasp of a giggle, knowing that the soaked sensation isn’t because of solely your own product. 

“Fucking perfect,” he grumbles, slowly pulling himself out of you. He takes a small step back to get a look at your used cunt, puffy and glistening. His mouth literally waters. 

Javi drops to his knees, settling his broad palms on each of your ass cheeks to keep the view of you open for him. Slowly, he leans in, the flat of his tongue running over your delicate pearl through your cum-soaked folds, a mix of you and him blessing each taste bud on his tongue. He hears your breath hitch. 

He brings his tongue back in, collecting up the salty combination, before he’s on you again, mapping out the ring of your puckered muscle before he softly peppers the area in sweet kisses, your rear slightly irritated with his repeated slamming into you. 

He pulls himself away, giving you a moment to turn around; your back is to the dresser now. He places several kisses on your thighs, giving a few more kitten licks to your center before he’s rising to his feet and pulling you in for a deep yet gentle kiss. You can taste both you and him, and it makes your heart want to burst at the seams with warmth. 

“You okay?” He asks softly as his lips break away from yours. 

“Always with you,” you offer bashfully. 

“Good,” he says firmly, kissing the tip of your nose. You hear his hand smack the top of your dresser a few times. “I guess this thing is pretty fucking durable, huh?” 

“Mmmm, maybe. I think it needs to pass one more test,” you tell him. 

His eyebrow quirks up, you can see his mustache twitch, fighting his smirk. “And what test would that be, mi amor?” 

Taking a step back out of his hold, you back up into the dresser again, grabbing onto the ledge and you jump, spreading your legs wide open for him to fit in between. 

You can see the way his eyes flash impossibly darker. He stalks up to you again, his hands squeezing your thighs before he’s back on his knees, his head immediately burying himself in your core. 

Oh, yeah, this dresser passes the test, alright. 

Tagging those who showed interest when I posted the WIP !! @honeyedmiller , @punkshort , @joels-shitty-puns , @bearsbeetsbeskar , @janaispunk , @starry-eyes-love

If you enjoyed this, come check out my masterlist for more or follow my notifs blog @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to get updated on when I post new stories! Much love💚

@pedrostories

[sizzleissues]

new design and all that. Captain Ladybug, the most feared pirate on the seven seas. An absolute mess in reality and barely hiding it XD

How the design changed is I thought about it for five more seconds and did some research into period clothing and then took inspiration from there. So this outfit contains elements spanning five decades and I tried to think about there being a purpose to it XD

Okay I’m going to talk about how miraculous work in this AU and maybe some other things. Read below

The only miraculous that exist are the Ladybug and Cat but technically more could exist they just don’t at the time of the fic. There is some lore I don’t want to mention at the moment about the origins of the miraculous but they are originally parts of a whole that split after a tragic event. As a result of the split, the halves are no longer as powerful apart and their users face consequences to their use (unlike when it was whole there was limited to no consequence).

They have existed and interfered for a couple hundred years, trying each time to bring peace between land and sea but each time failing in some way. The current iteration feels like a last ditch effort to force things into motion and so the conditions of the miraculous are designed to push the holder towards an ultimate goal.

So Marinette of course gets her earrings and uses them to become human. Tikki can only appear to her in water, but does watch over her and can occasionally speak and influence things while on land but her power is limited. Tikki can’t tell her to mend the relations between land and sea because then it wouldn’t be genuine. It had to be meant. She has had them for roughly three years prior to the story beginning and it had mostly been exactly what she wanted. Adventure and freedom from the sorrows at sea. The reason it mostly works out is that Adrien wasn’t ready to take the Cat miraculous (and no other options presented themselves) so the Ladybug could draw on more power. Once Adrien takes the miraculous, things change and it’s her reaction to this changing that helps propel her towards her purpose.

She must transform back every so often, depending on how much she exerted herself and how much of her power she used. While transformed she’s faster and stronger than an average human, like in the show, and experiences a level of good fortune. She’s also invulnerable (to a point. Its takes a lot out of her). Once she’s exhausted her transformation she must return to the sea and if she fails to do so she will become a regular human and her memories of her life in the sea would fade. Her lucky charm is just her luck. Her sword magically slides back to her feet, her gun always seems to be loaded, the wind rarely blows against them etc. But it stacks up and wears on her transformation so she rarely wills for it as she wants to extend her time on land as much as possible. The more frequently she has to disappear, the more suspicious it would be and the easier it would be to be caught.

I’ll talk about Adrien’s whole deal once I have art of his proper design. He undergoes the most costume changes so I’ve been having a time researching men’s period fashion.

[gurugirl]

coming soon to tumblr | handyman!harry

821 word teaser - 10k+ one shot already posted on Patreon.

One shot summary: When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for. Based on this request.

. . .

Everything flowed so nicely with Harry. He was easy to talk to and you trusted that he knew what he was doing. And it didn’t hurt that his voice was soothing and deep and slow. You could listen to him talk about solid hardwood versus engineered hardwood all day long if he let you.

“Well, I’ll be heading out now I guess. Be back first thing in the morning and start on this porch.”

You walked him to his big truck and shook his hand again, thanking him for taking the job and feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional at everything.

Overwhelmed because Harry was so genuinely kind and you knew immediately you could trust him completely. Which just added to his charm and sex appeal. You really tried to push down the fact that he was so stunningly attractive because that wasn’t going to do you any good. And even though Mr. George told you he was single, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Someone as yummy-looking and kind-hearted as Harry? There was no way he wasn’t at least seeing someone.

But you were also emotional because you were finally going to get to see your aunt Gayla’s house restored to its original glory. It was going to be a real labor of love but it felt so good to be doing it. You had never felt so sure you were on the right path in life until that day. Until Harry arrived with his big truck and assured you that you’d get everything you wanted and that it would end up being even better than before.

And for the first time since you moved into that old house, you sat down and began to write. You’d gotten nearly ten thousand words written and were awake well into the wee hours of the morning typing away with the sudden inspiration you’d gotten. You fell asleep with your laptop next to you when you couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer.

You were woken to the sound of pounding and clanking and creaking which had you startled as you sat up in your bed and looked around your bedroom. The sun filled the space with light and you picked up your cellphone to note the time and saw a missed call from Harry.

Wrapping your robe around yourself you ran down the stairs all frazzled and rushed and burst onto the front porch, tripping over a stack of fresh boards and landing on your knees and palms like an idiot.

“Hey… hey…” you heard Harry’s deep voice from behind you as he slid his hands under your arms to help you up, “You okay?”

“Oh my god…” you croaked out the first words of the day from your throat, “I just woke up and realized you were here and… Sorry!”

He turned you to face him and looked down over your knees and lifted your palms upward to inspect, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Took quite the spill there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have stacked those boards right there.”

You felt your heart calm as he led you into your kitchen. He was so gentle with you, which for some reason you hadn’t expected. You knew he was kind but this seemed very much outside of the scope of his job description, “No, it’s fine! It’s me. I’d probably trip over the boards no matter where you had them stacked. I’m a bit of a nervous nelly. And when I woke up I just… I was startled. Fell asleep late and didn’t set an alarm…”

Harry grinned at you as you ran your faucet and put your hands under it, “It’s fine. No need to rush or get all riled up. I got here a bit early and when you didn’t answer I just figured I’d start on the porch. Think I’ll replace your doorbell as well. It’s not working either.”

You dried your hands and smiled at Harry, “I’ll get you a key before you leave today. In case I’m not here or I’m sleeping again. Sorry… I just had this burst of inspiration last night and typed until I passed out. It’s…”

“You’re fine,” you watched his eyes drop down to your torso and then bounce back up quickly to your face.

When you looked down at yourself you realized your robe was twisted and while all your bits were covered, they were barely covered.

“Jesus fucking Christ… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m a mess…” you pulled the material into place and adjusted the robe.

Harry put his hands at the tops of your arms, “Hey… you’re fine. Take a breath. It’s a beautiful morning and the birds are singing, and just look at this view…” he motioned toward your window where you could see trees and lush green grass stretch along the front of the house, “Now… Do you have some alcohol to clean up the cuts on your knees?”

. . .

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[dawnoftime22]

clingy baby.

| T.S

Warnings: R being clingy/adorably stubborn with taylor, taylor carrying you around nearly all day, one short scene of a shower together with little detail, and a taste of pancake batter

Summary: A sweet morning spent with Taylor, making pancakes while clinging onto her each time you could.

Word Count: 2.7k

Category: Fluff

A/N: honestly this didnt quite turn out to be as 'clingy' as I wanted it to be, but its definitely still adorably in the story! enjoy<3

| Started on 02/06/2024, 9:01 AM |

| Finished on 29/09/2024, 5:01 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

“baby, be as sweet, as caring, and as clingy as you want to be...because i love you.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

This sweet morning was cozy and warm, spent all curled up with Taylor. There were no duty calls for today, so she chose to stay in bed with you, nestled against her chest.

She was already up, her hands gently combing through your hair as she gazes off, getting spaced out. A few strands of hair were also curling with the movement of her fingers.

You, on the other hand, have been in and out of sleep since the first time you woke up, having the desire to get all the rest you could, to which, Taylor did the same, but now both of you were fully awake, cuddling under the covers.

She couldn't go back to sleep even if she wanted to, and you knew your body would ache if you slept any longer, not to mention the headaches.

You move for a stretch, looking just like one of her cats that would elongate their bodies. You get all your joints ready for the day before relaxing back into your original position, feeling her comfort.

When a yawn starts to escape your lips, you use Taylor's chest to hide half your face, nuzzling into her. The blonde smiles, softly gazing down at you.

She leans down to place a kiss at the top of your head, then gives you a gentle squeeze in her embrace. "Baby...lets get up...its afternoon..." she whispered softly, your messy morning hair against her face.

"Mm, just a few more minutes," you murmur, burrowing further into her as your own arms tighten their hold around her. She could almost feel the pout on your lips through her clothes. It was everything adorable to her, but the time on the clock holding double digits showed that you both had stayed in bed much longer than you should have.

She takes a breath in, then lets it out softly. "Okay...well then, you stay here while I take a shower," she suggests, smiling teasingly before she starts moving to get up.

"Nooo...I wanna come with you," you softly whined, pulling her back as she sat up. Without hesitation, she pauses, glancing to you with a knowing playful look, determined to have you up.

"Get up then, love," she says, her nod urging as she keeps her eyes in contact with yours. The pout on your lips deepened, with the smallest hint of frustration of the choice you're left with; get out of the bed that was warm and cozy only to feel your aching bones, or stay in bed but feel the coldness of it being empty without her.

"Hmh." You huff, turning your face to the sheets slightly. Your shoulders even slump downwards, and it was hard for her to not let out a small chuckle.

"Come on." She urges, gently pulling your hand. You eventually relented, sitting up, and standing on your feet with enough loving from her, but staying close to her still, arms holding onto her.

Taylor smiles, not minding it since you were now at least out of bed. Her arm wraps around your waist, pressing you closer to her. But seeing as you might not possibly budge from your current spot, she decides to pick you up into her arms.

You blink at the sudden change of height, your arms holding onto her, but in a way, it felt more comforting. Besides, you were as close to her as you could be like this.

Your path took you to the bathroom, where Taylor gently puts you down to turn on the water, adjusting it to the right temperature for a perfect shower.

Once she was done, she helps you undress, even with the pout she had to kiss away, along with a few tickling kisses she left at your neck and cheek.

The shower was spent with love and care, her hands gliding over your skin without difficulty, careful to be mindful of each area, and planting even more soft kisses, this time on your shoulder.

After some relishing time passes by, you were both soon clean. She wraps you up in the fluffy towels you had, making sure it was secure.

In a small thought, you take a step forward when she covers her own body, reaching out to intertwine your hand with hers, the warmth of her fingers radiating against yours.

She turns her head, smiling at you before gently tugging you off to the bedroom, so you could both get your clothes on. Although, technically, borrowed clothes of each other.

A while after, you sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for her to finish buttoning up her white shirt. She turns around, seeing you swinging your legs carefreely. When she takes her steps towards you, a smile instantly pulls at your lips.

The gaze she reflects back had the same adorning look as yours, her arms going around your waist to gently pull you closer. She nuzzles against your nose, further going in for a soft kiss.

You return it with all the warm love thats been making your heart melt just like the sunshine does to ice creams.

In an instinctive moment, your arms wrap around her, softly breaking the kiss to pull her in for a hug. Her arms embrace you, with not a single ounce of affection missing.

She was about to lean back when your arms only tightened around her, and she chuckles, shaking her head.

When she gently picks you up just like earlier, you were grateful, holding onto her. Your heart beated against her chest, possibly syncing with hers as your face was against her shoulder.

"I love you," you whisper, the sound of your voice going a little melodically in contentment from being with her.

She grins, and leaves a kiss at the top of your head. "I love you too, sweetheart," she returns back the three words, adding in the loving nickname she always uses.

A hum came from her throat, soft and quiet. "What should we have for breakfast today?" she asks, swaying lightly to induce some serene and calmness for the two of you.

You hum yourself, turning your face out from her shoulder. Seconds go by in thought, feeling her comfort in the meanwhile. "I'm thinking...pancakes," you finally answer, smiling.

Her nose scrunches up in happiness, looking at you softly. "Pancakes it is." She nods, walking forward to get out the bedroom.

Feeling your weight in her arms almost kept her grounded in a way. Her morning mind was staying clear of any lesser thoughts, and only the thoughts of taking care of you and making breakfast were present.

Once she arrives to the kitchen, she sets you down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. You were still close to her, but resting instead of moving around a lot.

She kisses you softly, about to go grab the pan for the pancakes, but just before she walks away completely, she goes to pick up Olivia, putting her in your lap so you had something to distract yourself with.

You stay with the sweet cat for a few minutes, gently petting her head and stroking her fur. Sure she kept you company, but as you continued to watch Taylor, you couldn't help but feel restless.

Your teeth sinks into your lip at a decision, and it wasn't long before you set the cat down on the floor.

A meow came from the feline, and you smile at her, giving her a few more pets before standing up and making your way to Taylor.

She was mixing up the batter of the pancake when she felt a pair of arms going around her waist, making her slow her stirring. She turns to look over her shoulder, a smile raising up on her lips when she sees you, head resting against her back.

The batter calms down into a more flat looking state when she stops completely, pausing to reach one of her arms around your shoulder, pulling you to her side. Then, she continues mixing.

"You wanna help, baby?" she asks, tilting her head as her eyes flicker between the bowl and you. For a moment, at the notice of your bitten lip, her hand reaches up to brush against your lip so it was free before returning her hand to the comforting spot on your shoulder.

You peek at her progress, then nod eagerly at her question. She hums softly for a moment, thinking of what you could do and choosing the options in her head.

"Cut some strawberries and apples for me?" she suggests, looking to you for your reaction. But you were already on your way to the fridge, having let go of her. A small chuckle escapes her, her gaze staying on you for a moment before focusing back to the pancakes.

You grab some strawberries from its original container, washing them in water for a moment. You repeat the same action with the apples, then place it onto the wooden cutting board, both your hands and the fruit now clean.

Some gentle background music starts up when Taylor tapped play on her phone, brushing her hands on her apron, then continuing back to set the pan on the stove.

You eye the bowl that had the pancake batter, seeing that she was distracted with making sure the pan was heated fine. Deciding to take your chance, you take a step to the side and poke a finger ever so slightly into the batter, quickly taking a small taste.

Her head turns back to the bowl to pick it up, but when she sees you, her eyes widen much further, identifying the fact that you had stolen a little bit of it by the fact that you had your finger in your mouth for just a small second.

"Hey! Hands off." She gently swats your hand away, picking her bowl up and protectively pulling it to her chest. A giggle sounds out from you, and you move back to your own place.

"I needed to make sure they were good..." you murmur, grabbing the knife to cut the fruit, placing a single strawberry on the board carefully.

Meanwhile, Taylor had gasped, putting her hand on her heart to feign that you had offended her. "How dare you. You know my cooking is good," she says, staring at you for a moment before turning back to the stove.

But she pauses without even a second later, her hands still lifted up with the bowl. She bit her lip, looking at you once more. "But how was it?" she asks, looking expectantly as her cheeks came up with a faint blush.

You just barely saw it when you took a glance, and you had to stifle a giggle, only your lips curled up. "Delicious, as always," you assure her. She nods, thankful for your reply.

"Good," she whispers, returning back to her pancake making; putting the bowl back down, and then swiping some oil on the pan first.

You keep your focus on cutting your side nutritional snacks, having already finished up with the strawberries and setting them aside, to then working on the apples.

Taylor hummed along to the music, dancing here and there. When you went to throw away the centre of the apples you had cut off, you caught her doing a silly dance move that made you giggle with a shake of your head.

Her own laughter came into sound until she grabs a ladle and starts scooping up the pancake batter, making sure it wasn't dripping before she slowly pours it down onto the heated pan.

You put the cut fruit onto a plate, arranging them down before you peek at her cooking once again, and right in the perfect timing. She goes to flip it over, revealing the beautifully cooked side.

"Ooh, that's perfectly golden," you say, your face brightening at the sight. Taylor smiles widely, letting out a small giggle too. "I know, right?" She adds, leaning towards you to give you a nudge with her shoulder.

You then prepare the plates, helping her put the pancakes on them once the waiting for each side was finished. She did some smaller pancakes with the extra batter, saving them as a movie snack for later.

As you waited for her to put all the pancakes on your plate, you were putting some cut up strawberries atop her pancake, serving it as topping, just how she liked it.

She glances to you to see her meal beautifully decorated, and it made her smile as she picks up your plate. "Thank you." She leans in, giving a soft peck to your cheek.

A flush of pink crosses your face, and you smiled, helping her bring her own plate to the table too, following behind her as she puts yours in front of your usual spot.

You placed her pancake with the strawberry topping next to yours, making it so you were sitting side by side.

You took your seat, but scooted your chair a little closer to her, sliding your pancake closer to yourself, then going to pick up the fork and knife.

She settles herself down too, looking at you with a gentle gaze. The two of you enjoy your sweet breakfast, maple syrup being poured and dripping down the stack of fluffy pancakes.

You took a few apple slices too, putting them on your plate so you could easily pierce your fork through them without having to reach your arm out every time. Taylor sneakily stole one with her own fork, taking a bite of it. When you saw it, your eyes instantly go to her.

"Hey, thats mine." You call her out, your shoulders falling into a small slump. You had claimed specifically those slices for yourself, until she rudely, although gently, snatched it away.

"You stole a taste of my pancake batter..." she mumbles, her expression mindless as you watch her with an unamused gaze. Her hand was moving to cut a few more pieces of her pancake, and she was holding back a smile.

"But they're right there," you say, gesturing to the plate still full of the fruit you had beautifully put out, and a small giggle escapes the blonde.

"I had to make sure they were good...and safe for you to eat," she teasingly said. The words escaped with her soft breath, and it connected to the ones you had said earlier.

You shook your head, smiling widely at her playful behaviour, but continued with your breakfast anyway.

The time passes, and it wasn't long until you were soon left with empty plates, but full stomachs, standing up from your chairs.

You help Taylor clean up, picking the plates up from the table to wash them, and clearing up the counters of any leftover ingredients or cooking items.

As soon as you were done, the gentle clink of the final plate had sounded out from the dish rack; a sign of Taylor's own work being finished. You were leaning against the kitchen counter, your hands at the edge of it.

"Tay," You whisper, your lips forming a pout. She was wiping off the water splashes on the counter and dries her hands, using the small towel that was hanging on the oven handle.

"Mm?" She hums softly, slowly stopping to turn and look at you. When she sees you putting your arms out, her heart couldn't melt anymore with love, knowing exactly what you were asking for.

"Come here," she urges softly, her hands gesturing until you walk close enough to her. Once you were inches away, she waits until you put your arms around her before she gently hooks her hands underneath the back of your knees, picking you up.

"You're so clingy today, sweetheart," she whispers, rubbing your back with one of her hands as she goes to kiss the top of your head.

"I'm sorry...I just miss you," you murmur, burying your face into her neck. The warmth she radiated was everything to you, and the air that you breathed had a familiar scent.

"No need to be sorry. I'm just teasing you, love." she whispers, leaning back to kiss you, then moving to nuzzle her nose against yours sweetly.

"Besides..." she starts, walking off to where your shared bedroom is, the sun still gently coming through the windows to keep the space alit.

You listen on, but you were also caught up in just being close to her, until she gently sets you down at the edge of the bed, which made you lean back curiously.

She smiles, slowly letting one of her hands trail off you. "Your girlfriend's got muscles for days, sweetheart," she said, a gentle wink going with her eye, playfully showing her biceps. You easily giggled softly, shaking your head at her antics.

Her grin widens with her own laugh, just before it slowly fades, and her lips hide her teeth. "I missed you too, you know?" she whispers, her hands returning to holding you.

"And I quite like this side of you. It gets me the excuse to carry you around and get kisses all the time." Her eyes were filled with only love and adoration, even as she leans down to rest her head against your shoulder.

The curl of your lips linger at her reassurance, and you keep the eye contact. "You don't need an excuse for that." The words were a hushed sound within your breath, escaping with affection.

"I know I don't," she reasons, tilting her head to look up at you. Then, moves to brush her lips against yours, up until they're captured in a sweet kiss.

She sighs softly, and you could feel her breath, fanning against your skin. "You feel so right in my arms..." she murmurs, nuzzling into you once more.

"I love you," you say, and to her ears, all she heard was the cutest voice in the whole world, from her most favorite person, someone she'd keep preciously all to herself.

Her smile was knowing. Knowing, so much, that this will be forever for once in her life. That she'll always love you, even fall for you entirely all over again and again, and you will always love her just as much.

And without hesitation, she whispers back,

"I love you, too."

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

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[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (5)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 10.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, talks of panic attacks, talks of sex, k*ssing, I love them so much, jimin still the best boyfriend, small argument, insecurities, strong language, one bed trope, healthy relationship conversations, boundary setting, friends being friends, character has cancer, talks of character death (brief), dry humping, moaning, things are picking up A/N: I know I'm late again, but I have a lot of personal stuff going on in my life at the moment that had made writing challenging. First a breakup, then finding a new apartment, moving, and then waiting for my internet to get turned on. It's been hectic for me! But we are back. This was very lightly edited so I apologize in advance for any issues there might be. I will go through and edit this eventually, I just wanted to get it out for you guys!

prev || masterlist || next || playlist

The drive to Jimin’s house was quick, the traffic not fully registering in my mind as I lost myself in thought. I had only ever been in love once before, and that had been a very different time in my life. I was no longer that same person, and the anxiety these new feelings were bringing up made me nauseous. I was not ready to say anything was certain, but I knew for a fact that I was falling hard and fast. 

The small suburb was nice with large homes. A few new modern builds stuck out like a sore thumb, but the area had still kept much of its original blue-American-suburban charm. Coming from Colorado, I was not used to seeing large front lawns or children’s toys left out after dark. Jimin was just ahead of me and I slowed down when his tail lights came on. 

The house was definitely brand new. I had never liked modern buildings, the architecture lacking the charm and personality I sought out when buying my own place in the Springs, but it suited the swimmer. It was difficult to make out much color, but I could tell it was mostly white with black accents on the front. Large windows took up a majority of the walls and a small balcony was above the front door. It was smaller than the other homes, but the yard was bigger than the rest, and a tall fence enclosed the back of the property. 

Taking a second to prepare myself for the rest of the night, I watched Jimin get out of Fiona and open up the two door garage at the front. He seemed to be in a rush, casting a few quick glances at my car as he paced back to the truck to pull it inside. I do not think he could see me looking back.

Picking up my phone, I called Hoseok.

“Everything okay?” He picked up, out of breath.

I smiled, “I’m okay. Promise.”

He had been extra worried about tonight. Out of everyone, Hoseok knew how huge this was for me. At one of our many late night parties I had told him that I could never love again, and that I never wanted to know that feeling again. If it wasn’t Namjoon then it could not be anybody. At the time he had reassured me, but as the years went on he had truly believed that I had completely closed off that part of my heart. To be so excited about someone had him cautious- even if he did poke fun at me most of the time.

“Why are you calling me then?” He asked.

“Just needed a bit of a pep talk,” I admitted, eyes still locked on Jimin’s truck. “I’m at his house. Feeling a little nervous.”

He hummed, “He seems like a good guy. Don’t think there’s anything you need to worry about. Just enjoy yourself.”

I sighed, watching the garage door close, knowing I would have to get out of the car soon. “I think I’m going insane.”

“Talk to me about it.”

Jimin stood by the garage door, looking at my car. I rolled the window down and waved, gestured to the phone, and managed a pathetic smile. He nodded, still watching me with a strange look on his face.

“I think I love him,” I mumbled, unable to look away from him.

Hoseok laughed, “You just figured that out? Baby, anyone with eyes and ears can see how you feel about the kid.”

“It’s been two seconds, Hobi. We barely know each other.”

“You don’t have to tell him anything,” My friend reasoned, voice nothing but friendly. “You’re all over the place right now, and you need to really think about how you feel. No one wants to hear someone ‘thinks’ they love them. Breathe. Relax. Enjoy yourself.”

As I steadied my breathing, I noticed Jimin’s face becoming concerned. He always knew when something was wrong, and it did not surprise me when he started walking across the front yard towards my car. 

“I have to go,” I choked out, panic bubbling in my chest with each step he took. “I don’t want him hearing us.”

“Otter-”

I hung up the phone and smoothed down my hair. My heart was running at a million miles an hour and my hands were shaking. I hated how worked up I got over nothing. Disgusted and discouraged, I forced a smile on my face and opened the car door. My phone vibrated, the sensation tickling my hand, but I chose to ignore it. Fake it till you make it, I told myself. The curve of Jimin’s mouth told me I was not fooling anyone.

“Everything okay?” He asked, coming to stand in front of me.

“Yeah,” I breathed, nodding frantically. In my panic, I did not see the curb and tripped. Jimin reached out to help steady me before I could fall. I shuttered. “Everything is fine. Hoseok just called to check in with me. Didn’t realize we were out together.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue and Jimin’s eyebrows came together in confusion. He knew I was lying and it made the sinking in my gut all the more unbearable. Knowing I needed to get a grip, I stepped out of his arms and gestured to the house.

“Nice place,” I sounded like I had just run a marathon. “It’s very you.”

Jimin was quiet. Still trying to avoid talking about my odd behavior, I began rambling on and on about how much I liked the landscaping. The large bushes that surrounded the small front porch were a nice pop of color for the otherwise neutral paint job.

“Is that a gnome wearing a swimming ring?” I asked, squinting trying to make out the little figure in the darkness. “That’s so cute. Did your mom buy you that? I-”

“Y/N.”

My mouth clamped shut.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, reaching out to caress my shoulder. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

I sighed, finally done hiding my very apparent discomfort. “Just really nervous about how I’m feeling.”

“Tell me about it?”

I looked at him and nodded, “Can we go inside? It’s really cold.”

“Of course, angel.”

The pet name made me short circuit long enough to get inside without saying another word. Were we on that level now? Would it be okay for me to start calling him sweet little names like that? Would he want me to? What would I even call the guy? Nothing seemed good enough. No words could ever be good enough to express everything that he was becoming to me. 

“I can take your coat,” Jimin murmured in my ears, hands already helping me shrug out of the dark wool coat. “Shoes go on that little shelf over there.”

“Thank you,” I absentmindedly replied, still dazed. 

What about babe? No, too conventional. Sweetheart? No, that was Joon’s thing. Honey? We are definitely not beating the old woman allegations with that one. That also rules out darling and sweetie. He’d never let me live that down.

“Feeling a bit better now?” He asked, hand on the small of my back as he led me further into the house. “You’re not shaking anymore.”

I had not realized how off course my thoughts had gotten. I got so swept up in him that everything else just faded away. Pleased, I smiled and nodded.

He chuckled, “Where did your mind go this time, angel girl?”

I giggled, giddy that we were keeping up the terms of endearment. 

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” I leaned into his touch, melting in his arms as we walked. He finally wrapped me up completely, pressing me into his side with his hand on my hip. “I like it when you call me that.”

Jimin hummed, “What? Angel?”

I nodded, putting my head on his shoulder. It was a bit awkward but I dealt with the discomfort. I enjoyed being this close to him. Knowing that he seemed just as eager to be here with me was a bonus. 

“What do you think of the place?” He asked.

Blinking, I tried to disguise the fact that I had not been paying attention to a single thing since we walked inside. Letting my eyes wonder, I almost laughed at how accurate Jimin’s description of his house was. 

Standing in his living room, I marveled at how dark everything was. Black leather sofas, a dark gray fluffy rug, a flat screen, and a black iron fireplace were the stand out pieces. There were a few family photos on the mantle and a fake potted plant beside it, but other than that it was completely barren. It was just as sad and depressing as he said it would be, but instead of feeling disappointed it only made me smile. Everything in here was his and now I was included in that. 

“I love it.”

He laughed, squeezing me impossibly closer, “You don’t have to lie. I know it’s the quintessential bachelor pad.”

“I’m not lying,” I argued. “It’s perfect. Very you.”

“Even the dusty, ugly, fake Der Rose Jungkook got me as a housewarming gift?”

“Especially that,” I joked.

“Okay clown,” He laughed, pulling away from my side. “Go sit on the couch and I’ll make us some hot chocolate. Need to warm you up.”

Giving me the remote for the very large television hanging above the fireplace, Jimin promised to be back soon and left me in charge of finding something good to watch. After flicking through a few channels, I ended up settling on 21 Jump Street and ogled at Johnny Depp and Holly Robinson Peete. My dad and I used to watch the show together when I was young, and it brought me back to the few happy times that we had. I really needed to call him.

“Damn that’s a handsome man.”

I jumped, “Jesus you scared me.”

Jimin laughed, setting down two mugs on his coffee table. They were steaming hot and I decided to leave mine to cool off for a few seconds. Taking his seat next to me, Jimin was quick to throw his arm around my shoulders and pull his legs up onto the sofa. 

“Get comfortable,” He said, crossing his legs. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah,” I snorted, curling my legs up next to me and placing my head on his shoulder. “That’s the problem.”

“You’re being extra flirty tonight,” He teased. “I like it.”

I chose to stay quiet and watch the show. This was one of my favorite episodes. Hanson, Hoff, and Loki go undercover to try and solve a string of drive-by shootings between a couple of gangs, and Booker is trying to investigate a dirty cop on the force. I always loved the scenes between Johnny Depp and Holly the most. They were so cute together and the chemistry was crazy even though their characters never ended up together.

Jimin started playing with my hair, his fingers gently caressing my neck before scratching my scalp. It felt amazing and I relaxed even further into his side. After that episode was over, he leaned down and put his head on top of mine. Another episode came on, this was the second part to the previous, and I let my eyes close. This was really nice. And to think I almost let it all go to shit because I could not keep myself from spiraling.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I mumbled.

“Don’t be,” He whispered back, placing a small kiss on the top of my head. “Never apologize for being upset.”

Taking a deep breath, I thought about what Hoseok had said. There was no reason to tell him anything right now, or at least, the “L” word did not need to come into conversation. Still, it felt wrong to keep him in the dark. Jimin was always willing to listen and I felt awful for lying to him earlier.

“I really like you and sometimes it scares me,” I admitted quietly. “I called Hoseok to see if he had any advice. Sorry I lied about that.”

He shook his head, “I’m not upset with you, angel. Sometimes they scare me, too.”

“Really?” I had never really thought about that before.

“Of course,” He chuckled, moving away to look down at me. I lifted my head in a rare act of bravery. “I don’t think you understand just how amazing you are.”

I smiled lazily, unable to look away from him. He looked so beautiful in this lighting. The tv on one side of his face, the darkness in the rest of the house casting a dark shadow on the rest of it. I noticed his head inching closer, eyes heavily lidded as he watched me, waiting for a reaction. Heart pounding, I did the only thing I could think of. I closed my eyes and tilted my head higher.

“You smell so good,” He murmured, lips brushing mine. “God, you’re so pretty.”

I opened my mouth to respond but was unable to get anything out before his lips were pressed against it. I breathed out through my nose and allowed myself to just enjoy it. His lips were so soft and plump, his upper lip just barely scratching my skin with peach fuzz, and chin ever so gently bumping against mine as we came together. 

My skin was on fire as he invaded every cell in my body until all I could think about was him. His hand gripped the back of my neck and pressed us together roughly, his tongue licking against my bottom lip asking to be let inside. There was nothing he couldn’t ask for now. I mewled embarrassingly when our tongues twisted together. Jimin groaned in response. 

“Is this okay?” He rasped when we pulled apart for air.

I replied by taking his face in my hands and pulling him back in for more. Jimin responded eagerly, gripping my neck tighter and holding me close. I hummed in satisfaction, leaning into his chest. His skin was on fire beneath me and I briefly wondered if his chest got as pink as his cheeks did.

Jimin broke away, dragging my body closer until I was practically laying on his lap, before guiding my mouth back to his. My lips were numb, swollen, and still begging for more. The show was long forgotten, the noise also like static in the background as I suckled on his bottom lip. Jimin whined, fingers twisting into my hair as he held me in place.

“Feeling okay?” He mumbled into my mouth, taking a second to catch his breath.

“Great,” I slurred, before shutting him up again.

I lost track of time as we sat there entangled in one another. Lips hardly able to feel anything anymore, I broke away and tried to calm my racing heart. Jimin took the opportunity to go for my neck, his plush lips delicate against my skin. I shuttered. 

I could feel my panties sticking to my folds, slick gently wetting my thighs as he continued his gentle assault on my neck. He never sucked hard enough to leave marks behind, but after a few moments I could safely say Jimin was a fan of teeth. They scratched my skin softly, tickling me in the process, before his tongue smoothed over any redness that might have popped up. Moaning, I tilted my head back and granted him more access.

“You’re so fucking hot,” He rasped, licking a long stripe up my neck before biting my ear. “So needy.”

I chuckled, the sound breathless. “Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

I giggled, kissing his cheek, “Such a boy.”

I nodded, kissing the underside of my chin before pecking my lips.

“I’m your boy,” He smiled lazily, kissing me again.

“Yes,” I agreed, unable to stop smiling as I cradled his face between my hands. “My good-looking boy.”

With one final peck on my chin, Jimin leaned back into the sofa and dragged my body down with his. Laying on top of his body, my eyes fixated on the tv. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was playing now, and I grinned. It was one of my favorite shows to watch when I had a bad day. It was nice to have it with me at this moment. A happy memory with my comfort show in the background only sweetened the already tender moment. 

“She should have been with Spike,” Jimin’s chest rumbled underneath me.

Getting more comfortable, I nodded.

“I kind of like that she decided to stay friends with them both. Tara and Willow were the power couple anyway.”

“Not a fan of Oz?” He started playing with my hair.

“I liked them, too, but for different reasons. The only other couple that comes close to Tara and Willow were Giles and Jenny.”

We were quiet as we watched, small kisses shared during commercial breaks, and I never felt the need to try and open my mouth. Nothing needed to be said when our feelings were so apparent. Hoseok, as usual, was right. I just needed time to breathe and think about things before running head first into a love confession. And if he said anyone with eyes and ears could see how I felt, then there was no real reason for me to say anything. Jimin already knows. He always did.

“God, I’ve always loved that DeSoto Fireflite,” I gushed, eyeing Spike's car hungrily. “The ‘59 model is sexy.”

“Why do you know so much about cars?” He asked.

“My dad’s a mechanic,” I explained. “He owns his own restoration shop back in Pennsylvania and I used to go over there all of the time. I almost ditched swimming to take over the body shop when he lost an employee.”

“You never stop amazing me,” He murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Has he found anything cool recently?”

I grew quiet. Truthfully, I had no clue. It had been almost two years since we last spoke, and I doubted he was looking forward to hearing from me. He had a new family. A new life. One that did not have the space for me in it. My silence must have worried Jimin because he asked if I was okay.

“We don’t talk anymore,” I replied. “He got remarried a few years ago and his wife doesn’t like me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “It’s juvenile, really. He seems happy though, so I don’t push it.”

“They don’t deserve you. You’re too good to be treated like that.”

I laughed, eyes prickling with unshed tears. I did not talk about this often and it felt nice to get it off of my chest. For a long time Victor had been the person I looked to as a father figure, and we still keep in touch. He always calls for holidays and birthdays, checks in randomly, and asks me how I’m doing. He stayed with me through the worst of the damage, and only left Colorado when his daughter decided to move abroad for school. Denver was too expensive to justify the expenses and his new trainee was in Florida. I missed him a lot more than I ever realized.

“I made my own family, though. Couldn’t have picked better.”

Colorado would always be home because that was where pieces of my heart lived. Jin, Andy, and Hoseok were never planning on moving. Minho would be there as long as Tilly was, and she was around for Hoseok. I had a feeling Max would change that, and the two of them may end up starting a new adventure with Minho in tow. A trouple for the ages. That made me grin.

Michigan was starting to feel like my own adventure. New bonds and ties are formed with each passing day. Going back to Colorado helped to put that in perspective. It did not matter if I was there or not, because my family was, and I would always have a place there. Ann Arbor was different.

The person I envisioned myself spending the rest of my life with lived here, his family and friends becoming like my own, and I could never ask him to leave them. When Na-Yeon died someone would need to be around for James and the kids. When Jungkook and Darcy inevitably went their separate ways, he would need a shoulder to cry on. Taehyung and his panic attacks. Milo and his work stresses. All of it meant that someone needed to be around to bring them back to themselves, and I wanted to be a part of that in any way they would allow me.

“I’m really happy that I met you,” I told Jimin, eyes not truly focusing on the show anymore. “Being here with you- I couldn’t ask for more.”

A kiss on my head, “I feel the same way, angel.”

I fell asleep like that. Jimin had to wake me up a little after one in the morning to see if I wanted to sleep at his place. I politely declined since I promised the Andersons that I would be back for breakfast tomorrow and left shortly thereafter. I barely even focused on the ride home, tired and drunk off of the high of the evening. 

Calvin was awake when I walked through the front door. A plate of cookies in front of him, he held up a finger to his lips and pointed upstairs. Violet had been strict about his diet as of late. The last time he had gone to the doctor his cholesterol levels were slightly elevated, and we had been eating very bland, not all that great food ever since. I smiled sleepily, stealing a cookie for myself as payment. We would never speak of this night again.

Finishing up my cookie, I quickly peeled out of my clothes before heading into the bathroom to do my skincare routine. Exhausted, I was barely aware of the text I sent to Jimin before I climbed into bed. I was asleep before my head ever hit the pillow.

“You’re still not hitting your best time,” I spoke into my headset, looking at the stop watch in my hand. “We’re only at 90%. I want 92%.”

Jimin groaned, frustrated and tired. We had been at this all morning and he was not making as much progress as I hoped he would. I had prepared an 200s anaerobic training set so we could work on his endurance. For the last few weeks we were focused on speed and mastering his butterflies and turns. Now that we were feeling more comfortable training together I was moving onto those issues I had at the beginning. So far it was not going over well.

“This is bullshit,” He huffed, pulling his goggles up. “I’ve been at this for hours and haven’t done anything.”

I shook my head and fought to keep myself neutral. Training had become a bit challenging to work around given our new relationship status, but we both agreed to keep that out of our sessions. We had another date next Friday. He was refusing to tell me where we were going, the only hint being we would be going to Jungkook’s game, but the rest was a mystery. 

“You’re getting better,” I replied, holding the microphone closer to my mouth. I had woken up with a sore throat and could not speak loud enough on my own, so we were finally using my old earpiece to communicate. “You went from 88% to 90%. I think with some more drills we can get up a bit more.”

He went to put his goggles back on, but I told him to stop.

“We’re done for the day,” I said, rubbing my raw throat. “You’re getting angry and I’m losing my voice.”

He stared at me, glowering childishly, and crossed his arms across his chest. Lifting my head a little higher, I looked at him with an eyebrow raised. It was a challenge, one we both knew meant I was losing my patience. Normally he would back down at this point, tucking his tail between his legs, and going to the back to get changed. Today, it would seem, was not a normal day.

“No we’re not,” He said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed. “I’m not where I want to be.”

“Yes. We. Are,” I made a show of emphasizing every word, tossing my clipboard onto the duffle at my feet. “Something is bothering you. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine, but you’ve been acting like a brat all morning.” I ripped my whistle off my neck, bent down, and shoved both it and the stopwatch into the pocket of the duffle bag. Jimin was still pouting in the center of the pool. “I’m not arguing with you. I’m sick and you’re angry. Just go get dressed.”

My throat burned. I talked too much and had not given the sore skin time to rest. Rubbing my forehead, I breathed through my nose in an attempt to cool off. His attitude was really starting to piss me off.

Angry, Jimin made his way out of the pool far louder than necessary. I sighed when the locker room door slammed behind him. I got us off on the wrong foot this morning by being snippy and curt with my answers. His foul mood only made it worse. As training went on I had gotten back into the groove, my annoyance over being ill forgotten, but my bad behavior had obviously bothered him enough to keep him frustrated with me for the rest of the morning. It did not help that I never apologized. 

I took more time packing up my things today hoping that I could “bump into” Jimin before leaving. I tried to think of the right way to word my own frustrations without undermining what happened between us. I hurt his feelings, and I needed to take ownership of that. 

“Sorry for acting like an ass.”

I shouted, shocked, and nearly slipped on the wet floor. Rebalancing on the balls of my feet, I looked over to see Jimin standing at the locker room door. He was still wearing his cap but threw on a pair of shorts. 

“I thought you were taking a shower,” I rasped, all of the fire from earlier gone. 

“Me too,” He ran a hand over his face and leaned against the closed door. “Just felt wrong letting you leave like that.”

I nodded, swallowing thickly. My saliva irritated my throat more and I winced in pain. I really needed something to help with the pain. 

“It’s not just you,” I finally said, my voice cracking. “I acted like an asshole this morning and you had every right to be upset. I’m sorry I didn’t apologize, either.”

“Doesn’t mean I should have gotten all pissy,” He sighed, looking more relaxed now than he had all day. “I’ve always had a bad temper, but that’s not an excuse to talk to you like that. It wasn’t even that big of a deal.”

He was doing that thing again, the thing where he downplayed his own hurt feelings and redirected blame onto himself. Not wanting his mind to go down that rabbit hole, I walked over to him. I rarely went to this side of the room. I usually used the employee shower in the back since I felt less exposed, but Jimin never felt ashamed of his nakedness. The only reason he started putting shorts on is because he noticed how awkward I became.

“It’s okay to be mad at me,” I soothed, reaching out to take hold of his hand. “We both acted a little childishly. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Nodding, he leaned forward to rest his head on my shoulder. 

“I just feel bad,” He whispered into my skin. “You’re not feeling well and here I am making it worse. I’m such a dick sometimes.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close. Despite our second date being postponed due to training and the charity event this weekend, the physical affection we showed one another only ramped up. Kissing was Jimin’s new favorite thing, and I hoped we could take it a step further this weekend. Even if he was cool with taking things slow I had come to find out that I was not. Maybe after a nice conversation we could fool around a little more.

“So am I,” My voice was almost gone. “Now, can we stop arguing and get breakfast? A hot chocolate is the only thing that’s going to make me feel better.”

He chuckled, lifting his head to look at me. He was no longer angry, eyes dancing, and I felt a surge of energy run through me. Sick or not, I would do just about anything to keep him smiling. Even if it meant doing the hardest thing imaginable: apologizing. Stepping out of my embrace, Jimin took hold of my hand and walked us back to my duffle bag. He always insisted on carrying it.

“I think a hot tea would be much better for a sore throat,” He mused, “But if it’s cocoa you want, well, who am I to stop you?”

Rolling my eyes, I leaned into his side, “Who’s paying?”

“Me,” He scoffed. “Obviously. Denny’s is way cheaper than putting gas in my truck.”

That made me laugh loudly, the pain in my throat forgotten. We had a rule between the two of us. If you didn’t buy breakfast then you were buying gas for the day. Jimin had taken extra time coming to scoop me up this morning since I woke up sick and refused to stay in bed. After a lengthy conversation about money, we both agreed that he could pay for all of our dates if I could split up other costs with him. While not happy about it, he conceded.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” I teased, rolling my eyes.

The gym was filled, always packed just before and after lunch time. The lull of the afternoon would carry over until around 6 and we had a decent sized group until closing. When Giselle opened up at 5:30 the following morning, the same group of guys were always the first ones in the door. I had spoken to them a handful of times and helped spot one of them once or twice, but that was the most of my interactions with anyone that exercised here. None of us really wanted to be bothered, and kept mostly to ourselves.

Giselle and Sam were chatting at the host stand when we walked by. Jimin was always nice enough to greet his staff, but never stuck around for too long. They were all friendly, and he was very good friends with Yoongi and Megan, but he was too focused on keeping up with his daily schedule to hang out. Despite being late to everything, Jimin was an extremely organized person and hated it when his plans were disrupted. 

“Where are you two headed?” The young woman asked, a genuine smile on her face as she glanced down at our hands. 

“Breakfast,” I answered. Giselle was easily my favorite person here, her only competition being Megan or Yoongi, and I always tried to make time for her when she was available. “Do you need something?”

She shook her head, “Not right now, but would you be okay with bringing in a case of the blue Monsters tomorrow? We just ran out and Yoongi is feeling it hard.”

I laughed and agreed. Yoongi was the resident caffeine addict on staff and would go through pot after pot of coffee during his shift. After Drew, the general manager, told him he was using too many of the Keurig cups, he had moved onto energy drinks. The Lo-Carb Monsters were his favorite, and I was not surprised to hear he was out. He bought a four pack every other day.

“I’ll DoorDash a few packs to the building right now. I owe him anyway.”

“Are you ordering from Busch’s?” Sam asked. 

I nodded, “Probably. I know they’ll have them. What’s up?”

“Can you throw in a couple of sushi rolls?” He asked, and my phone vibrated in the side pocket of my leggings. “I sent you $20. I totally forgot to pack my lunch and I’m swamped with sessions today.”

“Sure man. Spicy crab rolls?”

“You’re an angel,” Sam sighed. “Make sure you get plenty of rest. You sound like shit.”

“Thanks,” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “See you tomorrow. I think Park will be riding solo tonight.”

Jimin chuckled, “I’m planning on skipping the gym tonight, too.”

We walked out of the building, hands swinging between us. The feeling was so familiar and yet so foreign. I had not dated since Joon’s passing and was severely out of practice, but Jimin made it feel easy. 

“You? Skipping leg day? Scandalous.”

Jimin laughed, sounding like sunshine. “And let my girl sit at home sick by herself?”

That shut me up. After learning I was a sucker for pet names, Jimin had gotten into the habit of using them to get his way. Feeling my face heating up, I forced a laugh as I let go of his hand and rounded the truck. My girl. It made me feel both terrified and comforted at the same time.

My girl…Angel…Angel Girl… I couldn’t pick a favorite.

“Do you mind if I come over?” Jimin sounded less confident now. 

I had barely noticed him starting the truck. Must have zoned out again. 

“I don’t have much to do,” I admitted. “My place is pretty boring.”

“You’re there,” He shrugged. “And you have a tv. I’m sure we can think of something.”

“Okay,” I hid my smile behind my hand and started to look out of the window.

Saline was very beautiful. At this time of year, many of the trees were barren but I knew they would look gorgeous in the summer. I frowned. I was set to be back in Colorado by then if I could not make up my mind about the move.

“Don’t get quiet on me, gran-gran,” I snorted. “You don’t blink when you zone out and it’s creepy.”

“I so do,” I laughed, turning to look at the pretty boy. “You are such a liar.”

That did nothing but make him laugh. “Might want to order those drinks, by the way.”

I thanked him for the reminder and quickly made a small shopping cart. I threw in a few extras. Coconut creamer for Skye, a new box of Hot Pockets for Drew and Dominic, and a large box of cookies and chips for the rest of the staff. Before I could check out, a page popped up of previous things I had ordered before and I quickly added one of those expensive bags of cookies. Those were Megan’s favorite and she had bought me two coffees this week. 

“Do you want anything?” I asked Jimin.

“Maybe some seaweed chips?” We were turning into the Denny’s parking lot. “Thanks, angel.”

I added in a few other items. Band-aids because I knew we were running low, more tea bags, the coffee pods Yoongi liked, and a few different packets of the candy for Giselle. She had such a sweet tooth it was a miracle she only had one cavity. It took me a bit longer to find Jimin’s favorite brand of seaweed chips, and I decided to toss in a few different flavors of the spicy ramen he loves to eat as well. Finally happy with my order, I checked out and messaged Sam that I secured his lunch. He sent me the sunglasses emoji as a reply.

“Earth to Y/N.”

I jumped, blinking rapidly, and saw a thoroughly amused Jimin staring at me. We were parked, the truck was off, and his hand was already on the handle. We both laughed but did not say anything else. If Jimin could be late all of the time then I could space out whenever I wanted.

“I’m so ready for these blueberry pancakes,” Jimin threw his arm around my shoulders as we walked. “What are you getting?”

I shrugged, “Hot cocoa and an omelet, probably.”

“An omlet does sound really good,” He mumbled to himself, holding open the door for me.

“That’s why I’m getting one,” I mumbled, pausing at the door to kiss him. “I’m thinking  ham and cheese.”

Jimin smiled, caught off guard by the gesture, “Shit, if omelets get me one of those then I’ll eat eggs for the rest of my life.”

I laughed, the sound echoing in the small entrance area. This Denny’s was always busy but I could see a few empty booths in the back. Perfect.

“You think I’m playing,” He continued, wrapping an arm around my waist as he grabbed a hold of the second door. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I had to.”

I rolled my eyes, “You don’t need to live off eggs to get kisses, you big baby.”

“No,” He chuckled, swooping down and stealing a kiss of his own. “But it sounded really cool.”

The hostess smiled at our little exchange and I fixed her with a deadpan stare.

“Typical.”

She laughed, “Right this way.”

Hobi: Are you excited about the charity event?

Me: Park’s going to kill it

Hobi: Nervous about getting seen?

Me: Not at all. I doubt anyone there will recognize me anyway.

Closing the trunk of my car, I sighed. We were on our way to the charity meet, and Jimin was running a few minutes behind. Fiona needed to go to a shop soon and Jimin was driving her like she was going to explode any second. It was frustrating as I hated being late, but it was impossible to be angry with him. We had planned on leaving the day before the meet and getting a hotel room so we could both be as well rested as possible. 

To say I was nervous about sharing a room for the night was an understatement. Jimin had gotten a suite with two beds so I would feel more comfortable (his words, not mine), but the added security of separation did little to calm my racing thoughts. I was not planning on having sex this weekend, Jimin needed to keep his energy for the meet, but I would be lying if I said the thought had not crossed my mind more than once.

“Are you okay?”

Snapping out of my trance, I turned to find the man of the hour stood next to me. There was a large duffle bag around his shoulders, and his oversized hoodie only made him look even smaller. Smiling, he kissed my cheek in greeting. 

“Fine,” I breathed, smiling back. “Almost ready?”

Jimin nodded, “Just need to put this bag in the back. You didn’t forget any of your meds, right?”

He had been spending most of his time at my house recently and was well acquainted with my large pill collection. At first he had been concerned as to why I turned down taking medication for my illness back on Monday, but stopped questioning it so much when I told him about the other four pills I take daily. I always avoided taking extra stuff if I could.

“They’re in my suitcase.”

We were going to be in Allendale until Sunday. The meet was on Saturday, and while it was only a little over 2 hours away, I was positive Jimin was going to be exhausted after we were finished. This was an event super close to his heart and he had told me how nervous he felt about attending. Spending two nights seemed like a simple solution to deal with both of our anxieties, and even more so when I brought up my fears of being recognized and harassed. Jimin turned red with anger when I told him about my previous experiences with the news and promised he would never let that happen to me again. 

“I guess we should stop by my mom’s house on the way out,” He mused. “I know she wanted to come but she’s been really sick.”

Na-Yeon’s avoidance of treatment was finally beginning to take its toll on her physical health. I had hardly seen her at all since I came back from Colorado, and from what Jimin tells me she’s done nothing but throw up and sleep. James had told me that she was trying to stay alive long enough to see Jimin win an Olympic medal, but he wasn’t sure if that was going to be possible. I was hoping to speak with her myself and see if there was any way I could convince her to start her chemo back up again. It was killing Jimin to see his mother this way.

“I was thinking,” I handed my keys over to Jimin. “Maybe your mom and I could have a little girl’s day when we get back.”

“Why?” He chuckled, 

I shrugged. Trying to come off as nonchalant was better than honesty. I was not sure how Jimin would take my intrusion, but I still wanted to try it anyway. I loved Na-Yeon, and hoped that I could talk her out of her decision. There had been a time when I would have let myself die, too, but I was fortunate enough to have Andy fighting for me. I probably would have never walked again had it not been for her and Hoseok.

“Just want to be closer to her,” It was not a lie. I was dating her son and I wanted us to be like mother and daughter the same way I had been with Namjoon’s family. “She’s been looking a little down lately. Maybe getting out of the house a little might cheer her up.”

Jimin grinned at me, his expression soft. Leaning forward, he kissed my forehead. My chest warmed. He was always touching me as though I was made of glass.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” He asked.

“Once or twice,” I replied, a giggling bubbling up my throat. “We should get going. Traffic is going to start piling up soon.”

Piling into the car, I relaxed into the passenger seat and took a hold of Jimin’s hand. He chuckled, pulled away to put the car into drive, and placed his hand on my thigh. I could feel a light layer of sweat on his palms. I put my hand on top of his.

“Are you sure you’re okay driving?” I asked him, tightening my grip.

“Yeah, angel,” He replied, smiling over at me. “I’m good. I like driving.”

“Still,” I argued, “You’re going to be swimming all day tomorrow. I feel bad making you drive, too.”

“Don’t,” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. His eyes never left the road. “I’m happy you’re here with me. All that other shit is just details.”

That shut me up. We drove in silence for the few minutes that it took to get to his parent’s house. I decided to stay in the car while he went to say goodbye. Jimin deserved some alone time with his folks, and I had sent a text to his mother this morning promising to send her a video of him swimming. All she cared about was making sure she could have a phone call with him when everything was over with. Na-Yeon missed watching him swim more than anything and it broke her heart that she was too ill to come with us today.

James waved at me from the front door and I returned the gesture with a huge smile. He had been so excited to see me after finding out about Jimin and I. James was extremely supportive and had already started to call me his daughter. I had yet to return the favor, but secretly loved it. Jimin would get so embarrassed, he’d turn red and scold his dad in Korean. Na-Yeon would watch them silently, but send me a smile and a wink when she thought no one was looking. Wedding bells were already sounding off in their heads.

I thought it would bother me more than it did. Instead, I felt calmed by their excitement. I had been really worried about the age gap between the two of us, but having our family and friends be so accepting had taken that weight off of my shoulders. 

Ne-Yeon’s little head poked out from behind her husband’s shoulder. She looked worn and had bags under her eyes, but her smile was just as big and beautiful as it always had been. Touched that she had thought to come and greet me, I got out of the car.

“What are you doing out of bed?” I teased, wrapping my arms around the frail woman.

She returned my hug with full force. It was concerning that her squeezes felt feather light. I hoped she was eating enough.

“Bodybuilding,” She joked, her voice lacking the usual spunk it carried. When I went to let go, she held me tighter. “Take care of him.”

I nodded, “I will.”

Jimin and I left a few minutes later. Na-Yeon was hanging off of him for as long as she could, her little arm wrapped around his waist as the four of us stood in their doorway. James and I never made physical contact, but Jimin always swore his dad preferred me to him. The older man was always smiling at me, his eyes sparkling brightly, and his mouth moving so quickly at times it was difficult to understand what he was saying. Today was one of those days and I struggled to pay attention to anything else.

“Dad,” Jimin interrupted Jame’s latest fishing story. “We have to go.”

James deflated.

“When you come back?” He asked me. 

“Sunday,” I replied. “We should be back for dinner.”

He smiled again, “I make daegusal-jorim for you. It’s spicy.”

I grinned. If I remember right, that was some sort of cod dish. James was always making some type of seafood since he was fishing constantly. Na-Yeon often complained about never eating any other meat. Jimin and I were always happy to indulge ourselves in his father’s cooking.

“I’m cooking,” Ne-Yeon said.

I looked at her, “Really?”

The last time I had eaten her food was Jimin’s birthday back in October. She made a huge pot of kimchi stew since it was her son’s favorite, and I remembered it being delicious. Sometimes Jimin would talk about all of his favorite foods he grew up eating, and 9 times out of 10 it would be something his mother had made him. Apparently, according to Jimin, his father could only cook fish. Na-Yeon, however, could make magic out of nothing. 

“Yes,” She insisted. “Need to celebrate my baby.”

Jimin flushed, his mother’s fingers pinching at his fat cheeks. “Mom.”

“I’ll try to get us back early enough to help you out,” I offered, checking my watch. “We really do need to go, though. Trying to beat the traffic.”

With a few hugs and a couple of kisses on the cheek, Jimin and I left. I had finally grown used to Jimin playing the radio while he drove, and I enjoyed watching him as he sang along. Catching my eye, Jimin grinned widely and serenaded me. He had a pretty voice, soft and sweet, and I felt my heart jump into my throat.

It was shocking just how comfortable I was in this car with him. Instead of staring out the window, watching the roads like a hawk, I was laughing and enjoying his presence. With the radio blasting, I opened my mouth and sang back. Jimin’s eyes widening, his voice growing more confident as he took my hand in his.

“With a taste of your lips I’m on a ride,” He giggled, squeezing my fingers.

“You're toxic,” I wiggled my eyebrows. “I’m slippin’ under.”

“With a taste of a poison paradise,” I leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “I’m addicted to you. Don’t you know that you’re toxic?”

Satisfied with myself, I leaned back in my seat and watched him sing. My actions only emboldened his own, and soon Jimin was singing his heart out in the driver's seat. His hand on my thigh moved closer and closer to my core only to slide back down when he realized what he was doing. Each time I laughed it off, but inside I was yearning for him to do more. Not in the car, I might have a real panic attack then, but possibly when we were in the safety of our hotel room.

The drive was quicker than normal. We had beaten the traffic by an hour and our impromptu karaoke session in the car made the time fly. The sun was just beginning to set as we pulled up at the hotel and Jimin was practically skipping inside. Making him happy was something I took great pride in, and my little performance in the car had made him radiant.

My chest puffed out when I caught the front desk receptionist eyed him hungrily. Her pretty eyes were unable to stop staring at the beautiful boy beside me. Hand in hand, we took our key card and made our way to the elevator.

When the doors shut, Jimin pulled me into his arms. I sighed in relief. He smelled so good, his chest warm and hard, and I could smell the faint hint of his after shave. It didn’t matter if we won or lost this event. Nothing was going to destroy the high I was on.

“I’m nervous,” Jimin mumbled, letting me go when the elevator dinged. “I know a few of the guys I’ll be swimming with tomorrow. They’re all really good.”

I nodded, “You’re better.”

“How do you know that?” I had never heard him sound so unsure of himself before. “I haven’t been competing like I normally do this season.”

“Because you’re Jimin Park,” I replied easily, the confidence in my tone unmistakable. “And I’m Y/N Y/L/N. We’ve both put in a lot of work and time into this, and you’re going to be great.”

“But-”

I shushed him. Taking the keycard from his hand, I swiped the card through the reader and opened the door. Behind me, Jimin breathed through his nose. It was a loud, defeated sound. Stepping into the room, I gestured for Jimin to walk inside and closed the door behind us.

It was a standard hotel room. A large queen sized bed was in the middle, a small love seat beside it, and a mini fridge beside the large flat screen hanging on the wall. The air was stale, like no one had been in here in a while, and I could faintly see fading stains on some kind in the dark carpet. I bit my lip. Maybe I should have gotten the nicer place Taehyung had suggested.

“5 Stars?” Jimin dead-panned, the little smirk on his face telling me he was joking.

I sauntered closer to him, hands resting on his chest, “Of course. Only the best for an Olympian.”

He sighed, wrapping his arms around my waist, “Thank you angel.”

Still feeling high off of his presence, I kissed his cheek.

“I was talking about me.”

“Yeah?” He mumbled, lips brushing my own. “You think you’re funny?”

I nodded, dazed, “Hilarious.”

“Ass,” He breathed, before finally kissing me properly. “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Another kiss. Then another. Then another. “It’s distracting.”

“What should we do about that?” I choked out, chasing after his retreating face. “Where are you going?”

He giggled cheekily, eyes glittering mischievously. 

“We need to eat, don’t we?”

I rolled my eyes and huffed, grabbing the back of his neck with my hand. “Fuck the food.”

He pulled away again, his face far more serious now. All of the playful lust flowing through my vein was stopped dead in its tracks leaving a chill in its wake. Fearful I had been too forward, I immediately took a step back and shied away from him like I had been burned. Jimin noticed this and shook his head, reaching out to grab my hand. I let him.

“I want to,” He told me. “I’m just not ready for that yet, and I think you deserve better than some nasty motel in Allendale.”

I nodded, my understanding of his fears doing little to dull the sting of his rejection. I knew it was not a real rejection, he had just asked for more time, but my heart ached with the memory of him moving away from me. It made me feel disgusted. Still, I forced a smile onto my face and nodded. I hoped he could tell I was okay with his request. It was only the hurt feelings that made me want to run away and hide.

“I get it,” Even I could hear the sickeningly-sweet edge my voice had taken on and hated it. I was so bad at this shit. “We can take our time. Whatever you want.”

Jimin frowned but chose not to say anything. Pulling back from him, I wandered to the tv and picked up the remote. A home renovation show was on and I knew I would not be paying enough attention to the tv to care how awful the acting was. 

“What’s for lunch?” I asked absentmindedly, trying to come across more relaxed than I felt. “I saw a pizza place on the way in if you’re feeling it.”

Silence.

“Maybe something less greasy,” I mused, already feeling myself growing panicked. “Milo said there’s a really good Italian place not too far from here-”

“Baby.”

I stopped talking and looked at the pretty boy standing across the room. He looked so sad and it broke my heart. I hated it when he didn't smile. I hated it even more when it was my fault.

“Talk to me,” He urged, coming to stand beside me. He made no moves to touch me for which I was grateful. “I know you’re upset about something.”

I shrugged, “I take rejection about as well as anybody else, and I don’t want you to feel bad about it so I’m moving on. I know we’re both hungry so I’m trying to figure out food. I’m sorry if I’m being weird again.”

He nodded, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

I reached out to hug him. Jimin was happy to take me into his arms. I loved how safe and secure I felt in his presence. I was slightly taller than he was, my body made for swimming, but he never seemed to mind. Leaning down, I tucked my head underneath his chin and closed my eyes. Breathe, I told myself.

“You didn’t mean to,” I replied. “I’m sorry if I made you feel pressured or rushed into anything.”

He chuckled, “I want to have sex with you. Just not right now. Not tonight.”

I closed my eyes, “Later?”

That made him laugh. I grinned in response. My foul mood left with a kiss to the top of my head. We were fine. There was no reason to get insecure. We were fine. Jimin liked me. I liked him. That’s all that matters.

I adjusted myself and leaned my head on his. Jimin buried his face into my neck and left a few gentle kisses on the sensitive skin. I whined in response, curling into him. Jimin groaned, the sound strained. I felt it in my core.

“Definitely,” He rasped, giving my neck another kiss. “We need to stop before I change my mind.”

I giggled, pulling away from him. If he wanted space and time then I would give that to him, even if it meant making the both of us a little uncomfortable for the next two days. With the awkward moment behind us, we started planning out dinner and I was confident in our chances at winning tomorrow. Even though it was a charity event, we were both excited about the donation money going to the hospital where his mother received treatment. Jimin especially.

After our late lunch (we decided on pizza), we came back to the hotel. I was adamant that Jimin take the day off from swimming to preserve his energy for tomorrow. His old coach (asshole) had always forced him to swim at every possible moment, and would become angry and condescending when Jimin asked for time off. I swore the next time I saw Hamilton I’d give him a piece of my mind, but knew that I would ultimately leave him be. The guy was a slimeball and didn’t deserve my time and energy.

Crawling into bed that night, we talked for a few hours while a crime tv show played. Jimin enjoyed pillowtalk and I just enjoyed his company too much to tell him to stop talking. Once it was around ten, his eyes closed in the middle of a sentence and light snores followed soon after. That was another thing he was good at- falling asleep wherever and whenever.

I got out of bed a few minutes later, my mind too busy to go to sleep. As quietly as I could, I walked out of the hotel room. Jimin did not move an inch. 

Hoseok picked up after the third ring.

“Do you know what time it is?” He answered, fake anger in his voice.

“Yeah, 10,” I rolled my eyes. “Way before your bedtime. Are you free?”

Hoseok hummed, “Yeah. What’s up?”

I groaned, embarrassment creeping up my spine. I would have preferred to talk to Andy about this, but I knew she was working tonight and would not be free. Tilly was an absolute no go, and I did not feel comfortable enough with anybody in Saline to call them this late to talk about my dry sex life. They were all Jimin’s friends first anyway.

“Jimin says he’s not ready for sex and I’m trying not to overthink it. I need your advice, oh wise one.”

Hoseok laughed, “Dude, I can’t help you. My girl is the same way.”

Shocked, I tried to remember if I had ever heard about this mystery girl before. Then, it hit me. Andy had mentioned something about a blonde girl. She must be serious for Hoseok to casually bring her up in conversation. I wonder how long he’d been hiding her from the rest of us.

“Your girl, huh? And who might that be?”

Hoseok sighed, “I know it sounds crazy, but she’s a swimmer.”

Racking my brain, I tried to think of every blonde swimmer I knew of. MacKenzie Boyd was way too young, Rhonda Yara lived in Florida most of the year, and Brittney Powell was just not Hoseok’s type. That left Opal Simmons and Tove Alfson. They both lived in Colorado, both were fantastic swimmers, and both seemed like nice girls. Opal was the older of the two, so I was more inclined to believe that was who he was talking about, but this was all under the assumption that the girl was a professional swimmer.

“Do you remember Opal Simmons?”

I snorted. So I was right. Feeling good about myself, I nodded and told him that I did. She was pretty, but I remembered thinking she was unremarkable. She had been doing extremely well this season and swimming more than she ever had before. I had a good feeling about her run at this year’s Olympics. She had always swam in teams and this was her first time doing a solo season.

“How’d you meet her?” I asked, leaning against the metal railing across from the door.

“I went to go see Ozzie and she stopped by to talk to him for a few minutes. She took one look at me, smiled, and gave me her number. And you know I’m a sucker for a confident woman.”

“So you took her to the most expensive bar in Colorado Springs?” I joked.

Hoseok spluttered, “How’d you know about that?”

“Well international super spy,” I teased, “You blew your cover. Jin saw you and told Andy. Andy told me. I didn’t tell anybody.”

The swimmer groaned and I could not help but laugh at his expense. We were always like this. Teasing and joking around with one another. A few tender moments sprinkled in between. I remembered when people thought we were a couple simply because we were friends of the opposite sex, but I had never felt anything but sisterly love for the guy. We were always there for each other through thick and thin, and right now I was grateful for his crude sense of humor. Hoseok rarely took things seriously and I needed a bit of fun. It made my anxiety feel less scary.

“We had fun,” He defended. “She’s fucking awesome, man. You’re really going to like her. Next time you’re in town, bring your boy so we can go on a double date.”

“Will do.”

We had a momentary pause. That meant Hoseok was thinking. He tried to choose his words carefully when he was being serious, so I knew that meant we were going to actually start talking about the reason I called. He was far more easy going than I was, so I was sure Opal’s timidness did not bother him at all. I was the spaz of the group only being outdone by Andrea.

“Did he say why?” Hoseok finally asked.

I told him about what had happened this afternoon and the small moments before. The way he always stopped things before they could get any further. How kissing him sometimes felt like he was saying goodbye. How genuinely upset he was by my reaction to his constant pausing. Hoseok listened to everything before saying another word.

“Maybe he’s had something happen to him in the past,” Hoseok brought up. That was something I had not really considered before. “He just sounds a little scared and nervous. Not unwilling, just hesitant. You should talk to him about it. I mean really talk to him. That’s what I did with Opal and it made going at her pace seem less daunting.”

“So you don’t think I’m doing anything wrong?” I finally asked, voicing my fears from earlier. I could not tell Jimin that’s what I was afraid of, it felt too childish, but Hoseok was used to my ever present anxieties. “I really didn’t mean to invalidate him.”

Hoseok chuckled, “I think you’re doing just fine, babe. You just need to learn how to relax and let shit happen. He likes you. He told you he wants to have sex with you directly. Don’t let yourself ruin this, okay?”

I nodded, feeling a frog forming in my throat. It felt wrong to cry right now, but it was the most therapeutic way to handle how frustrated I was with myself. I was too old to act like this. Too strong and independent. This really should not hurt me the way that it does, and yet I could feel myself closing off again.

The door behind me opened and I startled, almost dropping my phone. Whipping around I saw Jimin standing there, no shirt and a pair of sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips. Dark hair a wild mess, he rubbed his eyes and tried his best to look more awake than he felt. My heart melted, some of the stress I felt moments before lessening. He was here. We were fine. I was just being overdramatic. I just needed to breathe.

“I have to get some sleep,” I told Hoseok, eyes never leaving Jimin’s body. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Talk to you then,” I hung up.

Jimin’s eyes searched my face and I could feel a few escaped tears on my cheeks. I felt small under his watchful gaze, but the gentleness in his eyes never wavered. I stood there stupidly, unable to move.

“Come back to bed,” His voice was soft. “I miss you.”

And because he made me behave like a good little lap dog, I crawled into that bed without protest. Pulling me into his arms, Jimin held me close and tight. I relaxed and let his body heat warm me up. I had not realized how cold I had gotten and shivered. Jimin kissed my nose and got comfortable.

“Don’t leave me,” He rasped, already falling back asleep. “Please?”

I almost cried again. He sounded so lost and defeated. Maybe Hoseok was right. Maybe something happened to him that made sex feel terrifying. What it could be I had no idea, but I hoped that with time he could help me understand. As desperately I wanted him to know me- I wanted to know him.

“I promise I won’t,” I whispered, kissing his chest.

His arms squeezed me gently before there was nothing but snores and the sound of the A/C in the room.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[caeunot]

hii first of all i love your writing and im so glad i came across your fics 🖤 i was wondering if you could maybe write a johnnie x fem reader, enemies to lovers fic? or something along the lines of johnnie and fem reader always bullying each other a bit only to realise they've been crushing on each other the whole time?

johnnie guilbert x reader

enemies to lovers 18+

➷ you hated his guts, everything about him irritated you and made your skin crawl. you are friends with jake and you absolutely love him to bits so you spending time with him normally equals to you having to be around johnnie. these feelings aren't without reason though, your not the type of girl to hate on others very easily.

it happened a few years back, when your own youtube career recently jumpstarted and you started spending time with other similar youtubers near you. this is how you originally met johnnie, even before jake. you were first invited to a party hosted by some popular la youtuber at the time and you obviously took the invite since you knew this would not only help you make more friends in the industry but to also promote yourself!

you were greeting everyone and taking many pictures as the night went on, fully using this opportunity to the best of your ability. as it hit 12 you decided to look around and scope out the last person you want to introduce yourself to before you head home. you saw a short-ish guy with deep red emo hair swooped to the side with harsh makeup around his eyes and you were immediately intriged. you preferred a more grunge look yourself so seeing someone with such familiar fashion made you feel at ease.

"hey im y/n!" you say, introducing yourself. "do I know you?" he says coldly as he turns to see who was speaking to him. "no but everyone will soon the way my channel is going" you say with some sass so you can counter his rudeness. "you have way too much confidence" he says with a smirk. "so I've been told".

"what's your name?" you ask, "my names johnnie, johnnie guilbert". "well nice to meet you johnnie" you say with a smile. "what do you do for a living? if I can ask", " I make youtube videos and I also make some music on the side!" he says. you two talk for a little longer before you check the time seeing its quite past what you had planned. "hey it was great meeting you! I don't want to stay too long so I think I should get going!"

as you say goodbye and walk away you feel him grab you by your wrist, you turn around. "wait don't go yet, your the most interesting person I've spoken to today and I don't want to go home just yet" you bite your lip, "fine, how about I just walk you to your car then". he rolls his eyes, "is that all? anyways I don't even have a car, I came with uber"

"wait why did you take an uber?", you say confused, "do I really have to say". "yes", " okay, I can't drive.. happy?" you scrunch up your face, you don't feel comfortable letting him go home with an uber this time of night. "I don't mind giving you a lift! then you can talk to me during the ride all you want"

you walked him to your car and he got in on the passenger seat, let me just say that convincing him to let you take him home was harder than you imagined, but you could see in his face he appreciated it.

"why are you doing this again?" he asks as you start driving. "because I'm a nice person and I don't trust ubers". he nods, "I like your piercings" he says, observing your face in the dim lighting. "thanks!" you say as you stick out your tongue, showing your snake eyes. "oh shit I've never seen that in person before, it looks great". you blush slightly, "it was pretty painful and it's hard to upkeep but I don't regret it at all".

he brushes his hands through his hair, probably anxious from the small talk. "this might sound weird but, do you have a girlfriend" you ask. "I don't, why?", "it's because I figured that if u did she would be the one driving u home from a party, so I was just curious". "haven't had one in years", he says leaning back. "really? your really hot so I'd imagine girls would be all over you".

he laughs, "maybe in the past but not anymore, my sense of fashion and my lack of confidence kinda makes getting a girlfriend hard" he says, opening up to you effortlessly. "I think emo guys are hot" you turn and look at him.

"what are you implying?" he says, giving a lewd grin. "that if I had the choice to either have sex with you or not have sex with you that I would". you notice him squirm slightly in his seat. "if you mean that, pull over" he says

you do as he says and you climb into the back seat. you crawl into his lap and find yourself grabbing and pulling on anything you can find as you feel his tounge slip deep into your mouth, tasting the alcohol he had ingested that night. you wish you could recall the rest but you were much drunker than you thought you were and ended up slightly blacking out.

the moral of the story is that you gave him your number, and he never came back after that. not a call, not even a single text. you never ever hooked up with guys, this was your first time. and you hate how knowing a guy for just one hour could make you feel such strong feelings towards him, for johnnies case those feelings were a mix of lust and disgust.

back to current times, you ended up meeting jake a year later and that's when you saw johnnie again for the first time since that night. but instead of apologizing or at least being honest he instead found himself ignoring you. this frustrated you the most, you despise a man who cannot own up to his actions, let alone not even acknowledging them. every time you found yourself around him you felt your blood boil and you just wanted to give him a peice of your mind, but you can't.

you can't since it's been 5 months since and neither of you have said anything at all, 5 months of pure pretend. jake noticed your dislike towards his roommate but he didn't want to get involved in any issues that didn't require him, which you appreciated greatly.

after a lot of convincing, jake did eventually get the both of you to film a video together with him. it was one of those food rating videos and the goal was to order one type of food for everyone, jake said that I will do the drinks, johnnie the main and jake the desert. you were dreading this.

and you have been dreading this day for the past month since jake started bringing it up. you couldn't even handle being in the same room as him for a few minutes let alone a whole video.

"let's plan what we will order now so that we don't have to think to hard tomorrow!' jake says as you sat down on the couch next to him and opposite from johnnie. "I already know what I'm making you guys eat", "let it be actual food and not just chicken nuggets please" jake says jokingly. "knowing johnnie he will probably poison mine" you say with a scoff. a few minutes later jake started getting a call from someone and had to leave, aka leaving you alone with johnnie.

"why would you say that?" johnnie said to you the moment jake left the room. "say what?", "say that I'd poison your food, it's rude". you laugh from the pure nerve this guy has. "don't fuck with me, don't act like your the victim here". "says the one starting unnecessary shit". " I'm not starting anything, you started and I'm just continuing". the tension in the room was cut as jake walks back in, "sorry guys that was my studio, anyways where were we!" he looks between the two of you and johnnie gets up and leaves, saying he's not feeling well.

that evening you sat down in the passengers seat of jakes car, you breathe in and out meditatively to calm your nerves. "okay everything is orderd we just gotta wait for the food!" jake says climbing into his seat of the car and started prepping for the recording. you fiddle with your rings and move around your hair for a solid 12 minutes before johnnie got in the car with the food in hand.

the video started off fine, you didn't laugh at his jokes and he didn't laugh at yours. you two didn't even make eye contact, that was untill it was jakes turn. "okay guys for johnnie I got him a really massive chocolate chip cookie because hes a basic bitch and I got y/n a gummy lunchable because she's never had one" you laugh since the idea for having gummy pizza seems so obscure. "jake that's so wrong you know I love lunchables". jake turns to you as if implying you should give him a piece.

"I rather not" you say softly, but not soft enough to where johnnie couldn't hear you, "it's literally just a lunchable what's your problem". " I never said I had a problem, it's not my fault you don't have manners and can't ask for something yourself". "I literally just said that I love lunchables, stop starting shit were recording".

jake turns around to face the both of you, "what the fuck guys, what's your problem", you look at johnnie, "ask him". " you guys are acting like fucking toddlers either tell me what happened or just sort your issues alone, like now" he says as he gets out of his car, "there's no point in keeping on filming so let's just go inside okay".

you go inside and sit down and you feel as if your in the third grade getting detention from your angry teacher Mr Webber. "so.. what happend, you two have been like this since the moment you met and I don't understand, y/n, johnnie,I love you both so much but I can't handle this bad energy", you stay quiet and so does johnnie. "okay if you guys are going to be like that I'm going to my room, just please sort something out because I promised our fans we were doing a collab". he says walking off into his room.

you bite the inside of your mouth and look around, not able to handle the awkward silence. "johnnie I just have to ask you one question, why?" he makes an upset face, "what do you mean 'why'", " you know what I mean" you say in almost a defeated tone. you stand up and walk towards where he is sitting, "I mean why didn't you text me back, why did you ghost me" he looks away. "don't be a coward please, im tired of our crap". upon hearing this he stands up.

"fine okay, I'm a fucking coward. I was too scared to message you back because I was drunk and you were drunk and I knew for a fact that nothing would happen between us because I mean look at you, your gorgeous and I know if we somehow started something in the future I would feel so guilty that we hooked up the night we met, I've only ever had sex with two people y/n!! that's you and my ex and I feel guilty for it every day because sleeping with random people is not me!!"

your feel as if your in shock, almost frozen in place. you brush your hand through your hair about to say something but nothing comes out. "I never met to hurt you at all I just, I'm stupid I'm fucking st-" you cut him off by putting your lips on his, he doesn't push you away and instead takes his arms and grabs onto you tight while pushing you against the nearest wall. "I sware I'm not usually like this" he says, breaking the kiss,"you just.. do something to me"

'fuck' you mutter as you grab onto his hair as the kiss becomes more and more passionate. he takes his hands off the wall and starts to remove your baby tee, exposing your lacy black bra. as he did this you hear something behind you and look to see jake, his mouth dropped right to the floor. johnnie immediately stood in front of you to cover your exposed skin and when he heard jake walk away he helped you put your shirt back on. "I'm so sorry" he says with the most guilty look on his face.

"shh don't be it's okay!" you say holding his face and giving him a soft kiss, "I definitely overreacted to everything because of how much I liked you, it hurt me so much that someone I felt so strongly about could shove me aside like you did". " I haven't gone a day without regretting what I did" he says. you felt so relieved that this issue between you two was finally sorted out.

"what now?" you ask, indentifying the elephant in the room. "its my turn to say sorry I shouldnt have kissed you like that it was impulsive and careless of me".

"y/n". " yes?", you ask completely confused. "I've never met someone I've wanted more then you in this moment, I want you and all of you" he says walking towards you and holding your waist, "let's not torture each other as we have, please" you smile "I'm all yours".

❣

[moonlight-prose]

✧ SAFE HAVEN ✧

a/n: as of right now i am behind on kinktober, but that's okay. i'll catch up. this fic was originally based on another wip i have of shower sex with joel, but that one is a more in depth angsty one. so i decided to just write a new one. there can never be too many shower sex with joel fics right?

day eleven - shower sex | kinktober 2023

summary: "being with Joel felt like breathing. as if you’d stepped outside for the first time in eons, soaking in the fresh air that emanated from the trees. it was clear. a constant fixated piece of nature that you knew would never fade."

word count: 1.8k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, shower sex, soft joel, what it means to love someone you want to grow old with, gratuitous prose about romance, p in v sex, fingering, dirty talk, tenderness.

Jackson had been good to you. More than most places in this world; some attempting to carve a piece of you to leave behind. Little bits of your soul now scattered amongst the decay of what used to be. What you could no longer recognize in the broken streets and fallen buildings.

But Jackson was different.

You wanted to say it was because of Tommy and Maria’s warm welcome. The people’s willingness to live in peace once more after so much horror, so much grief. And while those facts still rang true, you knew the reason why you chose to settle. Why you moved into a house that was a little rickety, old in all its beauty, and remained with the one person who understood you. Who you could count on to keep you safe, keep the life you’d built steady.

The warm water of the shower had become a luxury you took advantage of as often as humanly possible. When traveling for months at a time without even a moment to get clean, this was truly something special. The small amount of shampoo you had washed down the drain, your forehead leaning against the cold tile as the hot spray of water hit your back. It loosened up the overly tight muscles—your body having been through the wear and tear of surviving.

You didn’t hear the door open, or even notice the soft thud of his boots as he left them by the door, his hands reaching for his clothes. It wasn’t until he was pulling back the shower curtain did your eyes fly open. The instinct to cover up overtaking you, until your eyes met the warmth of his brown ones. The exhaustion, clear on his face.

“Wonderin’ where you were,” he said, stepping in next to you, reaching for the homemade soap you’d picked up in town.

“Long day?”

He sighed and that was all you needed to understand how the day went. So you turned fully, took the soap from his hands, and got to work lathering it along his skin. The days may be filled with peace, but everyone still remained on edge. Still wary that their safe haven would one day be destroyed.

Joel more than anyone understood what this place meant to people. How hard they fought to keep it going, to keep themselves protected. Which meant he was out longer than necessary, working with Tommy to make sure that Jackson ran as smoothly as possible. Some nights he’d crawl into your bed, half awake and fighting sleep. Other nights you found yourself alone, only to wake up with the remaining warmth on the sheets where he’d been.

“Lean down,” you instructed, smoothing the shampoo between your fingers and dragging it through his untamed curls. The gray was more prominent than before, nearly covering most of his hair, but you found it sexier than before.

It was a sign that he was willing to keep his word when you first fell for one another. He was determined to grow old with you. To wither away in this house and make it a home. You wondered if that’s why he was so adamant on protecting this town. Risking his life any chance he could to make sure nothing happened. He wanted the certainty, the knowledge that there was somewhere to grow old.

“You take care of me,” he murmured, letting the suds run down into the drain, his hands draped over your hips.

You grinned. “Someone has to.”

There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. An invisible rope that tied you to him to sight you swore it would never snap. Which is why he simply smiled. The skin around his eyes crinkled slightly as he caught your lips in a tender kiss. Tugging you closer until your bare chest pressed to his. And for a moment you swore you could feel the rope tighten—writing the narrative of your future together. Permanently carving it out in time.

“Turn around,” he said against your cheek, hands guiding you until your back was pressed to his chest—hands now placed against the shower wall. “Gonna take care of you now darlin’.”

“You don’t have—”

The smack that echoed in the room had the slight sting of pain blooming on your ass. It silenced you immediately, your lips parting and eyes fluttering shut. Slick pooled in the soft curls around your pussy, that glutinous warmth you longed to sink into now gathering at the base of your stomach.

“I know I don’t have to.” His hands spread apart your ass, staring at the tight ring of muscles that peeked out at him like a fucking prize. Pressing his thumb against it, he grinned at the way your body jerked, head falling forward—a guttural moan bouncing off the walls. “This ain’t about have to. I want to.”

Being with Joel felt like breathing. As if you’d stepped outside for the first time in eons, soaking in the fresh air that emanated from the trees. It was clear. A constant fixated piece of nature that you knew would never fade. He was the earth beneath your feet, the cloud in your blue sky, the sole reason you were here now giving into his touch. 

A soft kiss was pressed to your shoulder, a tender show of love in contrast to the filthy way he spread you with his fingers. Finding your clit with ease. You sagged against the wall, a moan crackling through the air, and that urged him to keep going. To press two fingers into your soaking cunt, curling them until you bowed forward, a distorted version of his name leaving your mouth.

“Right there darlin’?”

You both knew he didn’t have to ask. He knew that he was pressing right where you needed him—your walls tightening around his fingers. Joel was simply enjoying this allotted time. He was going to take you apart bit by bit until you had no sense left in your bones, and you were going to take it.

Nodding frantically, you felt him drag his fingers out, plunging them back in with a speed that nearly gave you whiplash. You were sensitive after weeks of nothing. But Joel could see the need on your face. He noticed how your body was pulled tight, stiff with the day's heaviness weighing on your shoulders. You took on too much; believed that you could handle whatever the world threw at you. Which you did.

Yet you never allowed a moment to be taken care of—never gave into something you didn’t deserve. Joel supposed that’s where you shared similarities. You reflected one another, each stubborn in your own impossible way. Both too afraid to admit that sometimes…you needed someone to lean on.

“Cum on my fingers and I’ll fuck you,” he grunted against your ear, speeding up until a high pitched whine tore from your throat. “Wanna taste it honey. Miss your sweet fuckin’ taste.”

“A-Ah f-fuc—” His thumb collided with your clit, circling it quickly until you had no choice but to follow his words. Your body went rigid, mouth falling open in a stuttered cry as you broke, spilling on his fingers—your heart cracking wide just a bit more.

True to his word he dragged his fingers out and placed them at his lips, sucking your release clean off his skin until nothing remained. You were an aphrodisiac to his senses. The nectar of the gods come down to gift him with your delicious sweetness. Yet no matter how much Joel indulged…it was never enough. A hunger had started in his body, turning his once hollow heart into something ravenous. Craving one thing day after day. You.

“Joel,” you whimpered, pressing back against his throbbing cock. “Please.”

He sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of the beg falling from your lips. An echo that he wanted to sear into his mind.

“I got you darlin’.” Pumping his cock, he notched the head against your entrance, feeling your walls flutter around nothing—begging him to move just a bit further. To fill any emptiness that still lingered in your chest.

And who was he to deny you? Who was he to resist your siren-like call?

Gritting his teeth, he sunk into you with one smooth thrust, choking on his spit when you clamped down around him. Nearly shoving him off the edge before he could start. His hands found purchase on your hips, fingers digging painfully into your already tender skin, before he set a pace so brutal it nearly made your legs collapse. A low rumbling sound tore from his chest, reverberating against your back when he began to fuck you with enough strength to shove cries out of you with every thrust.

“Not gonna last honey,” he grunted, dragging you back onto his cock with every shove of his hips into your body. “Perfect fuckin’ pussy. Made for me.”

Your eyes rolled back when his cock nudged against your cervix, the sensation obliterating in all its bliss. Fingers slid against the wet walls of the shower, legs trembling as he held you up with one arm, dragging your body even closer. Until his hand was pressed against your throat, lips by your ear.

With every thrust you could hear the harsh breaths he let out. The deep growls and moans that were like another flame licking its way up your body. Digging your nails into his hips you felt yourself reach another peak, higher than the last. You wouldn’t last another five seconds and he knew it. Could tell by the way you slowly tightened around him with every stunted thrust.

“Touch yourself for me.” His fingers pressed against your throat, your hand dropping to rub quick circles over your clit. “Feel how wet you are honey.”

“Oh g-god,” you choked, back arching into his hold.

“Gonna have to clean you up after I’m done.” A garbled sound reached his ears, making him smile. “You want that? Want me to lick myself out of ya?”

Your eyes rolled back, body going taut as you exploded, a shout bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears. Joel grunted, grinding his hips into your ass and wrapping himself around you. He spilled into your wet heat, filling you with a warmth that wracked your body with a shudder. A soft moan breaking through the daze you were in. The steam of the shower clung to your bodies, pressing the heat against your chests until it was almost too hard to breathe.

But he refused to move.

He cradled you close, head dropping to your shoulder as his cock softened in you—cum trickling down your inner thigh slowly. He kept you close because Joel had never felt more safe than he did now. You were the person he longed to see at the end of every day. The one who kissed all his wounds, healed his heart with your soft touches and joy filled laughs. You were his forever. 

His very own safe haven.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hey Hi! I wasn't the one who asked you for this but it really is amazing!!!

It would really be great if you made a second part, and in case you don't, I still just want you to know that I loved it!!!

https://www.tumblr.com/yaut-jaknowit/743233269339914240/gonna-have-to-fly-in-here-on-the-speed-of-light?source=share

Lost Your Mind Part 2

Pairings: Pel (Male Yautja) x AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 2601

Summary: Time to figure your new life out in a different, robotic life. You learn how your new body work while being able to stay up with Pel, working side by side during hunts.

Author Note: Thank you! I really appreciate all the love. I hope this was a great second part.

Part 1

Masterlist

Ao3

Throughout a week, it has taken you time to relearn how to walk. Your mind was programmed how to with organic limbs yet this robotic body was different. The weight threw you off. The legs were longer, feet slightly bigger. Everything was off from what you originally knew. So, here you are, using a hand on the wall for support.

Pel was nervous to let you roam the halls by your lonesome. It took some time to convince the Yautja that you’ll be okay. It’s just walking. If you fall, its not like it would hurt you. Pain was nonexistent now. You’ve learn a notification will pop up on the side of your vision, telling you you had been damaged in some sort of way. But, there was no pain.

That could be seen as a pro or con in anyone cases. In your second chance of life, you took it as a pro. No more annoying aches or headaches or even when you broke a bone while hunting.

Hunting. Now, Pel says, you could easily keep up with him on his hunts. No more choking for air after running for miles or worrying about your scent alerting to prey. You even moved nearly silently. Then, without a heart or lungs, there was no worry about prey hearing you as well. In this new body, you’ve become the optimal predator. All you need was a guiding hand to relearn everything.

Your mate had help turn off the ability where your processor answered every little question. That had become incredibly annoying. It drove you nearly over the edge into a bout of rage and destroying the ship. All you wanted was your thoughts to be your own. Not some of computer in your mind.

With one foot after another, you relearn how to walk. You took the chance to meander to the cockpit and stopped at the entrance. Pel was in the pilots chair and sat crisscross. His head turned over his shoulder to find you now in the room. The Yautja sat up taller, mandibles clicking happily. Your own face lighting.

“Hello, love,” you wobbled over to him without the support of the wall. Once in reach of his chair, you gripped onto the arm rest. “What’s the plans for today?” A week had only passed but fragments of your memories had resurfaced. Not all of them. But the emotions are what you held onto. The love and adoration you and him felt for each other. And, in a life like this now, you needed every last drop.

The Yautja in question chirped and purred then rubbed his forehead against your shoulder. “Whatever you want, little one,” he replied in a smooth tone and found your gaze. His eyes shone brightly in the dim lights of the ship. You used your free hand to gingerly cup his cheek and hold his head.

A thinking expression pondered over your features. There was still much to unlock between the two of you with your new robotic body. To see its limitations.

You leaned down nuzzled your nose against where his own would lay if he were human. “Why not teach me some basics with weapons? I’d much rather learn from you than the internet. From there, I can choose which one fits my hand the best,” you offered and pulled back to stare into his yellow eyes.

He purred and nodded his large head. Dark tresses swaying with the moment. “That is a wonderful idea, mate!” Pel slipped off of his chair and rounded the furniture to stand at your side. His hands came out to steady you but stopped short. The corners of your lips tweaked into a small smile.

Pel was finally learning that you need to do this on your own. That’s the only way you can be able to grow into the new person you’re designed to be. You can read on his face it’s taken a lot for him relent and allow you space. He’s a lot more open with his feelings, desperate to make you feel safe and comfortable in your home.

“I’ve got this, love. Just give me time, I still haven’t fully figured it out just yet.” You pushed off of the chair and stood up.

Standing is easy. That didn’t require movement. The walking portion was fine. When you tried to figure out how move without falling face first onto the ground… that’s where you struggled. Half of you wanted to turn back on the dictionary portion of your brain. But, you stayed strong. Life’s hard. Clearly since you’re in this position and nearly met their god of death in unfair circumstances.

The dark brown and beige Yautja stayed hovering at your side, hands at the ready. His yellow eyes watched carefully as the two of you made your way towards the weapons room.

Many of his trophies sat out on display here. A show of prowess. Some of them, you knew the two of you hunted together. Slowly the memories returned. The only plausible reason was the trauma of the event hiding them away. But if they were coming back, that’s all that matters.

An array of weapons decorated the only wall lacking trophies. Pel mainly wields a Combistick and bow and arrow for the hunts. That doesn’t mean a hunter shouldn’t be prepared. He has everything else on hand for whatever a hunt may call for.

You stopped to stand in front of the wall. Your eyes raked down each meticulously placed weapon, but nothing called out to you. In your memories, they were still hazy. You couldn’t tell which one you used before. Maybe this was chance to choose anew? To choose something that required more strength. The robotics that formed your body offered more strength than ever before.

Heat washed down your back side as two hand rested on your shoulder. The powerful jaw of your mate settled down on top of your head. “What favors the eye of my mate?” he asks. A soft purrs tumbles out of his throat and spills into the air. You reached for one of his hands on your shoulder and carded your fingers through his own. The two of you holding hands now.

“That, I don’t know. Nothing speaks to me.” An idea comes to mind. “I would love to see you wield each one, show me what they can do,” you suggested and brought his knuckles to your mouth for a kiss. Killing two birds with one stone. Figuring out which one was the best for you and to see your mate in action, flaunting his gorgeous body. Oh, you couldn’t wait for the show.

He let loose a rumble that acknowledge of his pondering. Then, he placed his own mock kiss to your head and stepped around you. “Alright, I shall display their uses.” The way he struts up to the walls was handsome. “I’ll show you the Combistick first. Every Yautja has one in their collection as it’s the first weapon that train with.”

Not only does he have one but three. Since it’s part of his main collection, he must have multiple may one break or if he stupidly loses it. At that point, he should let Cetanu take if he does that. Such a unblooded mistake that would cost him his life in the heat of a hunt.

A collapsed Combistick and pulled down from its hold. A single press of a button unleashes the weapon to the world. For such a weapon to be able to squeeze into a small form then grow like it does was amazing. Your eyes flashed with wonder. Then, the brown Yautja began to twirl it as if it was an extension of his own body. The moves fluent and perfect. The alien may be considered young for his species, but this was his life. The way of his people, his culture.

For the remaining hours of the day, Pel showed what each and every single weapon in his collection could do. It was hard to choose. All of them seemed great. Some better than others. You pondered the entire time, raking over each weapon carefully until two finally came to you.

Tiger claws and claymore. A strange combination to work together with. You would use the claymore as your primary then have the tiger claws as your secondary. Of course, the Combistick would also be part of your weaponry. Not that Pel would allow for you to miss that important part of the training.

Despite your slightly larger stature, Pel takes you to a weaponsmith. One he’s known for a long time.

The town around you is bustling with life. Your hand is entwined with Pel’s as the brown Yautja leads you through the alleyways to stay away from the roaming crowds. With another week and a half of walking under your belt, you’re able to calmly walk about without needing support. Not like you could run and sprint just yet. It’s a start though. A good start.

Though, you won’t be able to train with a weapon yet, Pel wants to get the jump on forging said weapons. It’ll take time for them to be crafted. Hopefully, his goal was by the time Vo completed the job, you would be ready. If not… he would just hide them and gift them to you when you were.

Pel swiftly took you through the back ways and knew the perfect places to slip past the crowds. It wasn’t long before the two of stopped in front of a old, clearly worn building. He takes you inside before the two of you could be swept out into sea.

Warmth washes over your artificial skin, warming the circuits underneath. A bell alerts the occupants to your appearance. Pel’s hand on the small of your back urges you forward towards the counter. He leans against the carefully crafted wood and trills a Yautja call.

“Pel?” a voice calls out from the back of the building. It wasn’t a moment later before an unknown species of alien stepped out. A rag in her hands that wiped off the grim that coated the skin. “Look who it is. Long time, no see. I thought you had perished on me.” She stopped short of the counter and crossed her arms. Four eyes met your optics that swiftly analyzed every inch of her.

“And who is this?” she questioned and scans her steely gaze up and down your robotic form. “He almost looks… human but his skin, it’s metal. Has those pesky humans finally created something worthwhile?” Your eyes narrowed on her bulky form. Despite no only being human physically any more, you took offense to her words.

A hand rested on your shoulder and drew your attention away from her. “Vo, this is my mate.” He says your name, easily rolling off of his tongue. “There was an accident that involved some bad bloods. I couldn’t lose him just yet.”

Her gaze softened. “Oh, I heard about that incident,” she trails off, head bowed down for only a moment before she meets his gaze again. “No one deserves what those scums did to all of those humans. Even if I despise the squishies.” Your tense shoulders relaxed at her words but that only got you thinking more about what happened. Pel wouldn’t say.

The brown Yautja dipped his head, understanding her words. “Yes. With my mate, I couldn’t lose them so quickly after we become permanent mates. So… I had their brain and heart transferred into this new body. It’s been a process.”

She hummed and finally met your optics. “My condolences, human. I am glad you didn’t perish yet. But, you better keep ol’ Pel happy. He deserves it.” You didn’t know whether to be offended or just brush off her comment. If only she knew what memories you’ve unlocked held of your of him. All the things you did together. The love you shared with each other.

“He is. More than anything in the universe,” Pel answers for you and tugs you closer to him. You turn to nuzzled against him. “But, I request your service. For my mate.” His hand rubs up and down the length of your bicep.

The unnamed alien snorts and rests most of her weight on one foot. “Of course you do. You never come back just to talk.” A sigh left her. She picked up a pencil and a sheet of paper. “What is it you’re looking for?”

Pel glanced down at you. “It’s for my mate actually. He wants tiger claws and a claymore. I have one of each myself, but they aren’t designed for his size,” Pel explains and returned his attention to her. You carded your fingers through his own on your arm and laid a kiss on the back of his hand.

A brow was raised at you. “He’s kind of small for a claymore. Think that’s gonna work with him.” From the slight kind she offered you in the beginning, your face dropped into a glared. Pel tightened his hold on your hand to ground you.

“My mate can handle himself well enough. Now, will you do it or not?” His voice hardened in the classic roughness of a Yautja. Gone was the easy, laid back Pel you knew.

Both of her hands raised, pencil and paper in the air now. “Now, reel back on the anger. I ain’t demeaning him or anything. I just stating a fact.” She huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her way. “Alright. A claymore and tiger claws for the human.” She writes this down on the paper.

The two of them got into a deep discussion on the specifics. Most of it went over your head as you glanced around the small lobby of the weaponsmiths. It was homey and quite nice if the owner was being such a dick to you. You couldn’t believe she would say such a think straight to your face in front of your mate. Yet, she has the balls to do so.

When all was said and done, the two of you left the little shop and returned back to the safety of your ship. Once the ramp clicked its lock into place and stopped then crossed your arms. “Well, she was quite rude!” you steamed with a huff.

Your mate stopped and his shoulders sagged, your name falling from his mandibles. “She’s… I knew her father when we were both young. I was there the day she was born, by accident. She’s been around Yautjas her whole life.” He about faced and strolled up to you. His hands cupped your jaw. “Many of my species are rougher than I am. Meaner. Ruder. They take what they want, demanding it. I am considered soft, gullible.”

His words soothed you. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. “For now, focus on getting stronger, faster. Then, you’ll be ready for your weapons. To go out hunting at my side once more. We’ll be an unstoppable force. No one would dare with us,” he proclaimed and pressed his mandibles to your cheek in a mock kiss.

“I will, love.” Your eyes slid open. His orbs filled with the love the two of you held for one another. “I’ll be beat you in a sparring match when I do,” you snarked off with a grin plastering to your features.

Pel barks a laugh. Not to demean you but at your attitude he loves. “Oh, I can’t wait for the way, my mate.”

[indigovigilance]

Why Crowley Rescues Aziraphale

Okay, yes: it's flirtatious, it's cute, it's Anthony J. "Acts of Service" Crowley showing love in the only way he knows how because God forbid he use his words.

But what if there's more to it than that? What if there is a much darker explanation that portends major events in S3?

Allow me to convince you below the cut:

Evidence of Repetition Compulsion

But before we talk about the rescue motif, let's examine a more transparent aspect of Crowley's behavior that will provide a scaffold for the discussion of his Princess Peach obsession.

The Plants

Sure, Crowley is a hobby horticulturalist, but he doesn't do it because he loves plants. He does it because the plants are a representation of himself, and how he treats the plants tells us how he feels about himself. Importantly, how he treats the plants changes over time.

Season 1

He puts the fear of Crowley into them, destroying any specimen with a blemish and making an example out of it to threaten those that remain.

You know, just like God did to him.

This scene is jam-packed with symbolism, and we can simmer on whether his punishment of the plants is simply externalized self-flagellation, or reflects internalized standards of perfectionism, or if he feels so powerless that he creates a new relationship in which he is the one that has the power... We could simmer, but that's not the point of this meta, so let's keep going.

Season 2

In 2023, Crowley is no longer a domineering monarch, ruling over his houseplants with an iron fist; of all the memorabilia he has in his flat (the statue from the church, the original Mona Lisa), the only things he brings with him are his plants.

And for someone living in his car, he's taking pretty good care of them:

Someone else even noted that one of the plants appears to have spots, and clearly he hasn't thrown it in the garbage disposal for its transgressions. I wasn't able to see it myself, but I headcanon it because it fits with the observation that:

Crowley's attitude towards himself is changing.

He is evolving from internalized guilt and sense of inferiority to believing that he deserves care, even if he is a little blemished. It is this shift that brings it within the realm of possibility that he can admit his feelings to Aziraphale.

In both seasons, the unifying theme is that Crowley is reliving his trauma over and over, and then reliving his healing over and over. This cyclical behavior is, to my knowledge, incredibly characteristic of PTSD and CPTSD. In a phenomenon clinically referred to as Repetition Compulsion, the subject recreates and relives events of a traumatic past over and over in their present life, seeking resolution for something that has already happened, where the opportunity for true, satisfying closure is forever lost to the past. A huge part of therapeutic treatment is breaking these maladaptive cycles [citations]. But to our knowledge, Crowley doesn't have a therapist.

If this is how Crowley's CPTSD manifests in his relationship with inanimate objects semi-sentient dependents, how might it manifest in his relationship with his angel?

The Rescue Motif

The cycle of Aziraphale's self-endangerment and Crowley's nick-of-time rescues might look like just a cute part of their flirtationship, a necessary cover for their continued association, but I argue that it something much darker.

Crowley rescues Aziraphale over and over throughout history to try to absolve himself for the one time he couldn't.

But clearly, Aziraphale doesn't know that.

It only took one rescue for Aziraphale to realize that this kind of behavior brings them closer together - and he desperately wants to get close to Crowley. Please forgive the crudeness of the metaphor, but: when you need to drive a screw into a board and all you have is a hammer, you're gonna smack that thing on the head over and over with the only tool you've got. The problem is, this is really bad for the screw.

Aziraphale, by leveraging the damsel-in-distress motif, over and over again, is inadvertently triggering a trauma response from Crowley because he likes what he gets out of it, which is spending time with the demon he loves and growing intimacy. If he knew that this is what he was doing, it would be sick and twisted and go against everything he believes about himself as an angel, let alone being mortified that he was hurting Crowley.

So the only possible conclusion (given we take the above conjectures as fact (see @queerfables, I listen to you <3)) is that:

Aziraphale Doesn't Know About His Own Jimmification

What is it that Crowley could have failed to rescue Aziraphale from that Aziraphale himself is unaware of? Well, at the least, it would have to involve a mind-wipe.

We know, canonically, that the Metatron can and will mind-wipe angels without actually casting them out of Heaven. Just because Aziraphale is an angel does not mean we can assume that this ability was never leveraged against him.

If Crowley knew that they were going to do this to his friend, he would have tried to stop it. The repeating damsel-rescue motif (in context of the existing, plant-based evidence of Repetition Compulsion) is a strong indicator that his mission to protect Aziraphale from the memory-wipe failed, and he is living in an endless loop of rescue behavior to try to resolve his guilt about that.

So why wouldn't Crowley tell Aziraphale that his mind was erased?

To properly address that I will need time to write a part 2. But others are welcome to use this as a jumping-off point, please just cite the inspo; it's a little thing that brings me joy ^_^

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the meantime, if you enjoyed this, you may also like:

Why Crowley is Blind to his Yellow Eyes

A Nightingale Sang in 1941

Baraqiel and Azazel

The Erasure of Human!Metatron

[emeritusemeritus]

Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt 10.

[Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley]

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)

Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, p in v sex, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting. Tiny bit of angst, possessiveness, talk of kids. Mentions of dominant behaviour. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Love potions? But none are actually used. Not beta-read nor spell checked, we die like Sirius ❤️

Okay this one is admittedly a necessary filler so the reader can work out her feelings, but I promise we’re moving into the good stuff next chapter 🤍

You tuck your letter away under your placemat as you eat, not wanting to open it up in the middle of lunch, even though the others had done so.

Truthfully, you were dreading whatever news your dad had for you and you would rather read it in private, knowing he rarely wrote to you so it must be some form of news, most likely bad.

George kept flicking his gaze to you at he ate, clearly checking on your well-being but you simply pretended that you were fine even though you could feel the pit on anxiety building up inside.

After lunch, you'd all decided not to go back to the lake but to shower and chill in the house as the sun was at its peak and quite frankly, you couldn't sit in it much longer. Hermione had packed already and had everything ready for her leaving later that afternoon, so you took some time to just spend her last few hours all together.

You were all sat around in the lounge, the coolest room in the house, some of you reading, some playing exploding snap and others just chatting. It was nice just to all spend time together even if you weren't all interacting as you escaped the heat in the coolest room.

"Wanna play a game? Like truth or would you rather or something?" Ginny asks after winning another round of exploding snap. "I'm not doing dares with these two here," she says, nodding towards the twins.

"What's that?" Ron says, confused.

"It was on a muggle movie we watched, they take turns and ask each other questions," she shrugs, not really able to elaborate further. "Sometimes it's like would you rather chose A or B."

"We're in," the twins say in unison, moving to sit closer around the coffee table.

You, Hermione and Harry were sat on the sofa, Ron in the armchair and Ginny and the twins were sat around the table on the floor, padded out with cushions.

"Yeah sounds good to me," you say, placing your bookmark into your book and placing it down next to you on the floor.

Everyone mutually agreed and you all began huddling round, deciding on the rules.

"Okay youngest to oldest," Ginny says, hearing immediate protest from the twins. "You chose first yesterday and today, time for a switch up." You laugh at her bossiness, having to sometimes remind yourself that she was the youngest but the twins, Fred especially, had a soft spot for her and actually didn't protest further.

"Right, Harry, truth or would you rather?"

"Umm, would you rather," he says, touching his glasses nervously.

"Would you rather spend the entire day with Draco or Dudley?" She asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He huffs out a little nervous laugh as he thinks before answering Dudley.

"Ron, truth or would you rather?"

"Would you rather," he says confidently.

"Would you rather, er, throw up slugs again or dance with Snape at the yule ball," Harry says with a devious grin. You had to admit the last one was good but it was much tamer than you originally had thought it would be.

"Vomit slugs, easy," Ron says, brushing his hair out of his face. "Hermione?"

"Um, truth?" She says, unsure of herself.

"Oh erm, ughr," Ron mumbles, not knowing what to ask. Immediately the twins begin to mock him and you even inwardly groan, finding the game boring already. "How many books have you read this summer?"

You roll your eyes and openly groan along with the twins, all three of you finding the questions too boring.

"I'll answer that for her, too many," Fred says, jumping in. "Right I'm switching things up." He immediately stands and walks off, coming back a few minutes later bringing an empty bottle with him, necking the last of the drink before he puts it on the coffee table.

"Whoever it lands on has to answer the question, then they get to ask the next question," He says, spinning the bottle until it lands on Ron.

"Ronald, still a virgin?"

You have to hold back a little chuckle at the sudden shift in tone at Fred's brash words and even without looking you know that Ron is beet red.

Ron manages to huff and puff, squirming in his seat as he does indeed turn bright red.

You found yourself dissociating away from the game as others answered, trying to squirm away from the harsher questions the twins were coming out with. You excused yourself and walked to the kitchen, feigning getting a drink as you sat at the table, pulling out your letter, unable to wait any longer.

"Dear y/n,

Your friend has written you a letter but did not know the address of the friend you were staying with; so please find their letter inside. Hope school is going well and you are staying out of trouble. Best wishes, dad.

You almost rolled your eyes at the bluntness of the note, feeling overwhelmingly relieved that it wasn't a true letter from your father. Casting the note to the side, you pulled out the second letter, written on both sides of regular notebook paper that had been folded somewhat neatly, the girly but messy writing already making you smile.

"My dear y/n,

We miss you so much, when are you coming back to see us? You've not really missed much, apart from Johnny has a girlfriend now! Weird right? It's actually kind of disgustingly cute. School is shit, just like normal but only one term left before college. Everyone misses you, the band just isn't the same without our rock chick.Dad's taking me to London after work on Friday, remember that coffee shop we found last time? I've made him promise to take me and he said that he'd eat the banana bread that you loved so it would feel like you were there with me! Hope to hear from you again soon. Love you! Val, Still your best friend x

You reread the letter multiple times, perfectly envisioning her voice as you read it. You missed her terribly, along with all of your friends, but Val had always been you're closest friend back home.

You sensed a presence behind you and turned to see George watching you with concern. You smiled at him and he looked instantly a little relieved, moving forward to stand behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Is everything okay with your dad?" He asks cautiously, knowing that the relationship was rocky and sometimes a sore spot for you. You snorted a laugh and nodded in reply.

"He was just forwarding a letter from my friend," you explained.

The beginnings of an idea were forming in your head as you looked at George, a rising hopefulness gathering in your belly.

"What time are your parents taking Hermione to the train station?" You asked, looking up at him questioningly, before craning your neck to look at the clock near the staircase.

"Um about two I reckon, why?" George asks, moving to sit beside you at the table in Arthur's usual spot.

"Do you think they'd let me go with them?" You asked and George immediately looked bewildered, "not to catch a train, I wanted to nip into London."

"I don't see why not, why do you want to go to London though?" He asked, thoroughly confused.

"My friends going to be there, I was hoping to surprise her and to be honest I could do with some new stationary before we get back to school," you explained, "maybe a new textbook or two."

"I don't like the idea of you going alone angel, can Fred and I join you?" He asks, warming your heart a little more at his concern. You burst into a smile and nod enthusiastically, it would be nice for you to go with the twins.

"I'd like to meet my friend alone though, no offence," you said, treading carefully. He smiled in understanding.

"Of course angel, you can meet me and Fred after, it would make me feel a lot more comfortable that way," he says nervously and you immediately reach over to kiss his cheek at his sweetness.

"Oi! Fred!" George bellows suddenly as you pull away. Fred walks out not a minute later after hearing his twin calling for him.

"Wanna go to London this afternoon? Y/n wants to go," George says, nodding towards you.

"I'm in," he shrugs, sitting down next to you at the table.

And that is exactly how you found yourself in the centre of a bustling and muggy Diagon Alley on a Friday afternoon with most of the Weasleys. Molly had jumped at the chance to go shopping and Arthur had gone along with it for the sake of his family. You knew where Val would be later that afternoon and hoped to be able to catch her but until then you strolled around Diagon Alley with the twins, having dropped Hermione off at the station and then broken away from the others as you weaved in and out of the stores.

Your first stop was Gringotts to exchange a muggle cheque your father had sent at the start of term for your school supplies before heading to Flourish and Botts for some new supplies.

"Wonder if they still sell Lockhart's shit?" You laugh as George opens the door for you.

"Doubt it, though fiction books always sell better," he laughs, following you towards the textbook area with Fred lingering behind.

Seeing a potion book you didn't own, you briefly flicked through it before putting it back on the shelf, realising it was utter trash. You briefly wondered if Professor Snape would let you borrow any of his own books this year, knowing that though they were much more advanced, they were immeasurably more informative.

You picked up a new textbook that you needed for your defence against the dark arts class and began wandering towards the back section when an overly excited Fred ran up to you and George, wielding a book.

"Twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches!" He says excitedly, laughing whilst flicking through the pages to show you a few diagrams and read out a couple of passages.

"And you need that why?" You asked defensively with a frown, not finding the underlying meaning very funny. He immediately senses your displeasure and his eyes bug out as he stumbles over his words as he tries to explain.

"Not for me princess, obviously, merlin, I meant for us to give it to Ron!" George immediately laughs at the plan and you absently nod, feeling a little off from the whole thing. You begin wandering away from them, making your way back to the potions area as they excitedly flick through the book.

"Professor?" You say smiling, spotting a familiar face within the potions section, his characteristic black hair and flowing capes always recognisable.

"Miss y/l/n," he says, turning in surprise at your voice, an almost smile tugging at his lips in recognition as he looks down into your basket. "I would have thought you already owned a copy of the necessary textbook for my class," he says with a hard but familiar tone, as if there's humour buried deep within it.

"I do sir, I was hoping to find something more advanced but they're all utter drivel," you said honestly, gesturing to the green book you'd looked at earlier. He huffs out a little puff of laughter though he tries to hide it before turning away to look up at the shelf. "Yes," he says, drawing out the syllable of the word before reaching up to the top shelf and pulling down a small, leather bound book that was hidden between two much larger books. He checks the spine and briefly flips it over before handing it to you with an almost smile, "this should be of use to you, it is well beyond the ability of a typical sixth or seventh year but you've exceeded all of my previous expectations, what's one more."

"Thank you Professor," you say as you reach for the book, trying desperately not to blush at his praise.

"Angel- oh, Um, Professor Snape," George says as he bounds around the corner, coming to an immediate holt as he spots the Potion master. Fred, clearly not anticipating his brother's sudden stop, barrels into George from behind as they both look up to see you and Snape conversing.

"Anyway," Snape says, his tone and features immediately hardening as he looks at the troublesome twins before looking back at you, "good day."

You follow him with your eyes, looking down at the book he'd given you before looking up again, just in time to see him cast one last glance at you before exiting the store.

"What did old Snapey want?" Fred said, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

"He recommended a book for me, said it would help me with my NEWTS," you shrugged, not directly trying to knock Fred's arm off of you but also not actively trying to keep it around you, still feeling a little uneasy about the misunderstanding with the book from earlier.

You walked and paid for the two books before shoving them into your little crochet shopping bag and walked over to Quality Quidditch supplies with the twins so that they could fawn over the new brooms and array of merchandise.

Checking the time, you briefly wondered when you should set off for the little muggle coffee shop just outside of Diagon alley that you knew Val would be visiting and decided to have another thirty minutes with the twins before going.

You ran into Molly and Arthur who were sat outside one of the tea shops sharing a pot of tea. They waved excitedly at you all and carried on with their little date that mainly consisted of people-watching and laughing.

You nipped to fetch a new quill and some parchment before eyeing up a new school skirt in Madam Malkin's but couldn't justify spending the money when you're old one would do, at least for the rest of this year. Fred, true to form, had quietly muttered some sexual innuendos about never having enough skirts and how much he liked you in them but you ignored him and instead left without the skirt.

"Okay, I'm going to meet my friend, not sure how long I'll be, where will I find you?" You turned, addressing the twins.

"Take all the time you want. We'll probably be in Gambol and Japes, if not we'll meet outside Ollivanders or come to you?" George said, pointing towards the joke shop on the corner. You nodded and reached out to subtly grab his other hand as you said goodbye. You turned to Fred and he subtly leaned in, looking like he was whispering in your ear and kissed the side of your head gently.

George then reached up and grabbed your shopping bag off your shoulder with a smile, "don't want her seeing any of this do you?" He slung it over his own shoulder and you had to bite your lip at seeing the 6 foot 3 Weasley boy lugging around a rose patterned crochet bag, but it didn't even faze him after wearing a lifetime of Molly's knitted creations.

Walking towards the coffee shop, your nerves were all over the place, firstly hoping that you could catch her and secondly that she would respond well to the surprise if you had your timings right.

Walking in, the little bell above the door chimed and you took a moment to look around at the customers, not seeing her signature blond hair anywhere.

"What can I get you love?" The barista asks and you ordered a caramel macchiato, something that you would never be able to find in the wizarding world. You reached for your little coin purse of muggle money and paid with the change, waiting to collect your drink at the end of the bar. When your drink was ready, you walked over to a table near the window and were immediately thankful that you'd bought along your book so that you'd have something to distract you and that the coffee shop had working air conditioning. Each time the bell chimed, you looked up in hope but then went straight back to reading your book, waiting for the next time.

"You have to get the banana bread!" You heard as the bell chimed and it immediately alerted you to the voice. You grinned as you spotted a shirt female with familiar blonde hair stood beside her absurdly tall dad who had dark brown nearly jet black hair.

They ordered their drinks and cakes, paid and then moved to wait by the end of the bar just as you had. Seeking an opportunity, you stood and walked over to them discreetly before putting on a voice, "excuse me?"

They both turned around with polite but confused smiles on their faces and you couldn't help but laugh at the reaction as waves of recognition passed over them.

"Oh my god!" Val squealed as she threw her arms around you, not a single care in the world about her absurd volume. You beamed and laughed as she rocked you in her arms, thankful you were able to see her again. "What are you doing here?! I thought you were in school? Did you get my letter?" She began to say frantically as she pulled away to look at you. You simply laughed and nodded, not even knowing where to start. She pulled you in for another hug and you held her just as tightly; only realising now how much you'd missed her.

You looked over her shoulder to Adam, her dad, seeing him smile widely at you both. When you pulled apart, he held out the plate of banana bread towards you, gesturing for you to take it as he pulled you into a side hug, having been close since you were five years old.

"No I can't, you have it," you said, trying to protest. He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair, "I don't even like it, I was just doing it to shut her up. It's really good to see you, kid."

He walked off with his drink to sit down near the table where your stuff was, happy to give you both space and to flick through his mobile phone for a while, something you hadn't seen in a long time.

You were desperate for a catch-up with your best girl friend and truthfully, you needed some one to talk through your problems with, someone with an unbiased, outsiders perspective; someone who didn't know the twins at all. The whole Amortentia incident was still fresh in your mind, only worsened by smelling the whizzbang smoke the other night and you were more conflicted than ever about your feelings for both of them. Val was the only one who wouldn't judge you for what you were doing, who you knew you could trust to talk openly to, at least without mentioning the magic.

Val grabbed her drink from the counter and moved over to your original table so that you could chat. She went first, immediately telling you about how she was seeing a guy at school and that her dad didn't know so you had to be cool about it. She told you more about what college she had picked and how the rest of your friends were doing and some chatter about new muggle movies and music you needed to experience

"So, what about you?" She asks, picking the last little bits of her cake off the plate. You huffed out a sigh and placed your drink back down on the table. "Oh no, what happened with Fred?"

You'd told her all about your crush on Fred a few years ago but had never mentioned much about his twin, though you'd spoken about him in a friend way. You figured there was no time like the present to offload all of your complicated feelings.

"It's, complicated," you say, picking at the lid of your coffee, "did I tell you that Fred told me he had feelings for me?"

Judging by her almighty gasp, you assumed not. "Problem is, so did his twin brother." Another almost comical gasp.

"Then I realised that I might also have feelings for you George and things are now a little complicated, to say the least." You were quiet now, just a little above a whisper to avoid someone overbearing.

"So what did you do?" She asks attentively, giving you her full attention. You sighed and looked up at her as you replied.

"I'm kind of dating both? For now, please don't judge me."

"I would never!" She says reaching her hand towards yours, "so you have to decide eventually?"

You nod. "That's the problem. Every time I feel like I'm starting to decide, something tips the scale and I'm right back to the beginning."

You rub your hands over your face trying to relieve some of the tension but of course it doesn't work.

"Who do you see a future with?" She asks, keeping her tone even as she takes a sip of her coffee.

"Well that's the thing, I've been staying with them this week and both of them have said the cutest things about the future and it's got me even more confused. We had separate dates earlier this week and I had a night with George first, well kind of the day and night because Fred was sick and we talked about what we were doing after school and how we both wanted one or two kids etc, and it was such a nice thought. Then the other morning I came downstairs and he was in the kitchen reading the newspaper, shirtless and looking hot as fuck and it made me think that it could be my future you know, husband in the kitchen making breakfast blah blah blah." You took a breath and carried on explaining as she listened to you, "but then with Fred, the other night, he was saying about how we'd live together and he's hold me every night and bring me cups of tea in a morning and god the constant marriage references," you took another breath, trying to remember not to overload her and forcing yourself not to mention the Amortentia outright.

"The thing is, I love them both but in different ways. George brings me comfort, he's gentler and more sensitive, real proper husband material. I can see our future completely and I'd be happy but then there's Fred. We'd have a happy, fun filled life, it would never be boring and I'd be happy with him. But now I know what it's like to be loved by both of them and I can't even bare to think of choosing one and losing the other."

Silence lingers around you both as you finish offloading your thoughts. The weight of your words hangs in the air and you have to shoot a look at Val to check that she's still with you, and then around to check no one was listening.

"What about quick fire questions? We write out the answers or tally them and you can see who you favour?" She asks and to be honest, it sounds like a good plan.

"At this point I'd do anything."

She immediately scoots over to sit beside you rather than across from you and leans down to pull a notebook and pen from her bag. She flicks it open to a blank page and draws a little tally chart with their names at the top.

"So I'll ask you a bunch of different questions and scenarios and you have to say the first one that comes to your mind," she explains as you enthusiastically nod along with her. She suddenly leans in to whisper in your ear. "Quick one, have you slept with them both?"

You nod slowly, feeling as if she would judge you but she simply nods with a neutral expression, as if it was just a regular thing to ask someone.

"Okay, who's messier?"

"Fred."

"Who's grumpier?"

"Fred."

"Who's the most romantic?"

"George."

"Who's funnier?"

"Fred."

"Who's more sensitive?"

"George."

"Who hugs you more?"

"George."

"Who kisses you more?

"Fred."

"Who's hornier?"

"Fred."

"Who gives better head?"

"George."

"Who has a bigger dick?"

"Fred," you say, quickly adding, "only by a fraction though." She nods, then begins changing tactics.

"Does Fred want kids?"

"Yeah, but he wants more than George."

"Who's more attractive?"

"They're identical twins," you say blankly but she reaches out and flicks you on the arm.

"And you can tell them apart so there must be differences," she reasons and you can't fault her logic.

"Um Fred? George's nose is a little bigger and his features are a little sharper I guess."

"Okay next set of questions," she says, looking up from her notes, "If you did chose one, who would take the rejection worse?"

"George," you reply, your heart doing a little twang of sadness at the very thought.

"Okay, fast forward five years, it's a Saturday morning, no work, no plans, explain what it would look like with George," she says, preparing to make notes again.

The memory of him in the kitchen the other morning, shirtless and reading the newspaper flashes into your mind.

"I wake up and he's not in bed but there's a hot cup of tea on the bedside table. He's in the kitchen, sat shirtless at the little table, reading the newspaper and sipping his tea. He pulls me into his lap, rests his head on my shoulder and reads the sport scores out to me and any news bits he knows I'd like. I make breakfast for us and we sit and eat at the little table laughing and chatting until we inevitably end up back in bed," you say, listing out each part of your little dream.

Val let's out a little 'aww' as she makes her notes before looking back up to you with a smile, "same scenario but with Fred."

"I wake up and he's sleeping next to me, still holding me from the night before. He wakes up and we don't leave the bed for another hour at least. He makes me tea and we make breakfast together and then we sit watching terrible tv, mocking the actors and awful storylines. He pulls me closer to him to cuddle on the couch and we spend the day just like that."

"Okay different tactic again, I want you to give me the pros for dating Fred or listing his best qualities," she says, flipping over the page and starting a new one entirely.

"He's funny and mischievous, kind to me, very protective. Hot obviously, like little stupid things like running his fingers through his hair or rolling up his sleeves. We're best friends so there's no weirdness and most people think we're dating anyway."

"Okay now George."

"Funny, sensitive and sweet, more considerate than Fred and more likely to notice somethings wrong. More likely to think ahead, and to apologise. He's comfort for me."

"And now worst qualities of Fred."

"Doesn't always think things through, can be impulsive and not think of the consequences. He can be a little mean, to his brothers and stuff, just a little more brutal than George is. He can be a little grumpy sometimes, usually about other guys or whatever like he's a little possessive. Not always the most responsible and can be a little unreliable."

"And George?"

"Follows Fred diligently, a little insecure, not as confident in himself, same as Fred that he doesn't always think of consequences."

"Okay last one, what are the pros and cons of being in a relationship with them in general?"

"Pros; wonderful family, great parents in law, I get along really well with their other siblings, share the same friends. I'd be happy."

"Cons?"

"Um well I guess there family isn't rich or anything, not that it bothers me, but for some maybe that's a thing? The only con is hurting the other brother."

"Right, your conclusion," she says, adding up the tally before looking back at you.

“You’re screwed.”

[nobodywritingao3]

unnamed monster & caretaker au

Tasked with feeding and caring for the king's resident monster, Tommy is constantly overworked and fully expects to die before he's twenty. He has an odd relationship with the beast and makes it a point to keep details about himself private, but it's difficult when the creature is the closest thing in the world he has to a friend.

wordcount: 2.3k 🕸 read it on AO3

CW: - hard vore mention - soft vore mention - mentioned abuse and dehumanization

‼️‼️‼️ Unfinished, unedited one shot. Proceed with caution

@gracideaviolet sent me a writing prompt and this is what i originally wrote for it. i like the concept but i wrote this at a not-good time and when i reread it, i didnt like the quality enough to fix it. if you like this story, let me know cuz that might give me motivation to properly finish this thing. feel free to take the idea but please credit and send it to me cuz i like this story and wanna see what someone else does with it

Tommy finished loading the cart and took a second to breathe.

He heard the beast shifting around in the dark. "Are you doing okay out there, Sunshine?"

Despite his tiredness, the sweet nickname made him smile.

"You know you eat a lot? It's a pain in the ass to load myself."

He meant it as a joke but silence hung in the air a second longer than it should have.

He cleared his throat. "I don't mind it. I'm compensated."

The beast snorted. "Not enough."

Tommy laughed awkwardly and didn't say anything.

He walked over to the control panel and started up the track.

The cart was big enough to fit a barn, and filled to the brim with various livestock, prisoners of war, and whoever else might have found themselves on the king's hit-list. Nothing sent to the monster was alive. It was a point the monster whined about a lot, but Tommy much preferred it that way. It was already disgusting having to spend hours upon hours piling the cart with bloody meat (sometimes human!) by himself, and the day he was handed a living person would be the day he faked his death and fled the kingdom.

He pressed a few buttons, tried not to cut himself on several rusty levers, and the rail obediently started itself up with a few revs and puffs.

The beast hummed contentedly at the noise.

The cart began to run along the track, disappearing from his view and descending into the inky black cave. He heard the gate creak open and he heard it creak close. And then he heard the beast begin to eat.

They weren't nice sounds by any stretch of the imagination - ugly rips and wet squelches of flesh - but Tommy had been at the job for a while and was long used to it. He settled in and waited for the creature to finish its meal.

"So how was your day, Keeper?"

Tommy hummed. "About the same as it always is. My master told me that the king will be coming in soon for a performance review, but I've no idea when that might be."

The beast paused its munching before hesitantly starting again a moment later. "I - why?"

He shrugged, assuming the monster could see him from the dark. "Something about me holding down this job the longest out of anyone before."

"Hm."

"I don't understand why that would intrigue the king. And no offense to you personally - "

"Uh huh," the monster sarcastically interjected -

" - but this isn't exactly the career path I'd have chosen. If I knew how to transfer I probably would have. Honestly - I have no idea how the others could have quit this job. I was under the impression that this is the sort of thing you do until you die."

It laughed at that.

Tommy sighed.

He was quiet for a few moments, a question sitting heavy on his tongue.

He shouldn't ask. It's impolite.

The monster shifted around. "Spit it out."

He gave the darkness an accusatory look. "I don't know what you're talking about."

There was a huff of laughter. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're doing that thing where you want to say something but are worried about what I'll think. It would be adorable if I wasn't desperate for decent conversation."

"Fuck you." He said it with a smile.

"Well? Are you going to say or not?"

He scrubbed at his face. Fuck it. "What were your other keepers like?"

The beast went silent for several long moments.

Shit. "You don't have to answer if you - "

"I didn't much care for them."

Tommy didn't say a word.

"The feeling was mutual." It sighed heavily. "You're a much better replacement, Sunshine."

"I'm sorry for asking."

The beast purred. "Don't be, dear. I pressed you. And I don't mind answering." It jostled the cart. "And I'm done eating."

Tommy nodded and powered up the control panel again. The cart began to recede. 

It appeared from the darkness, picked completely clean and shiny as if it never been covered in blood at all.

It scared him a little, how quickly the monster could eat such a large amount, but he dismissed those thoughts as easily as they came. When would that ever affect him?

He checked the clock. He still had a few hours before he had to report back. "Do you mind if I stay with you longer?"

The monster laughed conspiratorially. "Oh, but that's against the rules," it said in a high mockery of his voice.

He flushed.

He had been terrified of the monster when they first met. He gave any excuse to leave the beast as soon as he could, including that the rules specified that spending unnecessary time with it was prohibited. That was true, but no one would have known if he chose to linger. In hindsight, it had been terribly obvious how afraid he was and he's only embarrassed that the monster pretended to believe him.

"You're the worst."

"And you still want to spend time with me?"

Tommy blew a raspberry at the darkness, earning a few laughs.

It was comfortably quiet for a few seconds before the monster spoke again. "Why are you curious about my old keepers?"

He tugged at his fingers. "Do you know how I ended up here?"

"You never talk about it."

He frowned. "And I never will," he responded coldly. It never gave up asking. "But do you know, generally, how someone ends up working this kind of job?"

The monster was quiet. "Yes."

Tommy didn't say anything for a minute. "The king is very angry with me. I don't want to see him again. However the other keepers escaped..." He shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm saying. If the king requests an audience with me, it isn't for any good reason."

~

When the king acquired his monster, he hired out help to feed the thing and keep it under control. He made sure the beast ate lavishly, but now matter what they fed it, it never seemed like to satiate the creature. But it hadn't died of starvation and that was good enough. When its caretakers started to disappear, it wasn't difficult to guess what happened.

But acknowledging the problem would mean addressing it too, and the king simply didn't care. In the end, he realized he had the perfect way to quietly do away with those he needed gone. He sourced this job, with its one hundred percent rate of 'job abandonment' to political adversaries or people growing affluent enough to take his throne.

Which takes him to the present day, and a rather interesting problem.

When some servant boy had spilled a bottle of red wine down his front during a gala several years prior, the king had been so angry that he threw the child in a dungeon and left him there. When the monster's then-keeper inevitably disappeared, the king came to the boy and grimly informed him of his punishment.

He hadn't expected the child to last more than a couple of days. He'd even picked out his replacements.

But lo and behold, the boy remained present at his job post for a week. And then that week became several, and those several became months, and those months became a year and a half.

The king couldn't understand why it hadn't eaten him yet. He was fifteen at this point, certainly the youngest to feed the monster. Was it waiting for him to grow up? Did it want to watch him sprout up before it made its attack? It was perfectly sentient, and the king knew this even though he denied it upfront. Shouldn't the monster trust that the sooner it finished its current keeper, the sooner he would be replaced by another?

Had there been someone who had managed to bring this creature to subservience? If so, then the king took special interest.

And if not, then it was long overdue that the servant boy be put to death.

~

Being a human's lapdog wasn't a dignified experience, but it was a fed one. Driders were megafauna, making it hard to get enough food. It certainly didn't help that the human kingdom believed everything was its rightful property and saw driders as a threat to them owning more than they could eat.

Wilbur certainly didn't enjoy his life, and he was almost always hungry anyway, but at least he was alive.

He lived in a dungeon below the castle, but he wasn't sure what a castle was and he barely understood the concept of a dungeon. He hadn't seen the sunshine in years, and his keeper was his only company.

He liked his keeper. The boy was kind. He didn't threaten to pee in Wilbur's food or throw rocks at him. He asked him how his day was, and even made it a point to handle the meat carefully as he transported it into the cart. He seemed lonely, and made up excuses to stay. He was a cute little thing, and Wilbur wanted to stick him into his brooding pouch and keep him there.

~

The cart rolled into Wilbur's enclosure, and he greedily snatched it up and began to eat.

His keeper sat at a table in the light.

Wilbur finished his food in a few seconds and toyed with the cart. He always made it seem as if it took him longer to eat than it did.

"Do you have a family?"

The boy froze at the question. "Why do you ask?"

Wilbur pouted even though he knew he couldn't be seen. "We've known each for so long. I don't even know what your name is. Can't I know just a little?"

His keeper awkwardly laughed, fidgeting with his fingers. "Oh... I guess you're right."

Wilbur's heart leapt.

"I don't have a family."

"Oh." Shit.

"Yeah."

What was he supposed to say?

"I don't have a family either."

His keeper peered into the darkness. "What are you?"

Wilbur smiled. He skittered to the bars of his cage and leaned against them, towering over the boy, though he had no idea. "Would you like to play twenty questions?"

"You're so lame, seriously, what are you? I don't even know what you look like."

I could show you, he wanted to say.

Coming out of his cage was easy. The king assumed it could hold him but no one actually checked. And aside from his keeper, no one had been in his dungeon for years. In reality, the bars had long been bent open and Wilbur could get out whenever he pleased.

It wouldn't be difficult to come through the bars and present himself to his keeper. Pick the little figure up in his hands and take him into his cage with him.

When he'd eaten his previous keepers, they'd always been replaced. If he captured his current keeper and stored him away in his brooding pouch, then he'd never be lonely again.

It was tempting.

"That's probably for the best," he said. He stepped away from the bars of his cage and curled up on the floor.

He liked his keeper. He wanted him to be happy. Just because Wilbur was stuck in a cage didn't mean he had to be as well.

"Do you think I'd be scared of you?"

Wilbur looked down at himself, at his large stature and eight legs. His fangs came down to his mid chin. "I think you'd be terrified, dear."

His keeper smiled. "I don't think so. I have a suspicion that you're just harmless."

His heart melted. Oh stars, he wanted to eat this kid.

He massaged his aching brood pouch. "You're sweet, Sunshine."

~

The cart was left in his cage while he was sleeping. He woke up confused, spying it in the corner of his enclosure and wondered why he'd been fed overnight. Where was his keeper? His mind jumped to the worst conclusions.

He found him inside the cart. Bound and gagged and looking terrified beyond all reason.

"Oh, Sunshine," he murmured.

His words had the opposite intended effect, his keeper starting to panic and writhe at the sound of his voice.

"Hey, hey... Calm down, okay? I'll get you out of there." He reached into the cart and picked him up in his hand.

Despite the circumstance, his heart soared. This was the closest they'd ever been.

The figure was tiny in his palm, and still struggling.

Wilbur quickly undid his bounds, being mindful of his sharp claws against the human's body. As soon as his hands were free, he was clawing at the gag around his mouth.

"Don't eat me! Please, do not eat me..."

Wilbur's stomach dropped.

"What? Sunshine, why would I eat you?"

The boy continued to sob.

Wilbur cupped him to his chest and headed towards the bars of his enclosure. He expertly clambered through and came out the other side, his skin exposed to the light for the first time in more than a year.

"Dear? Can you talk to me?" He stroked his head with his thumb and brought him eye level. "Why were you in my feeding cart?"

His keeper stared at him in shock, and it was then that he remembered his keeper had never truly seen him before.

A hot wave of embarassment and self consciousness overtook him.

He awkwardly set his little human on his table and receded back into his enclosure.

"Sunshine?" He prompted once back in his cage. "Are you..."

"Could - could you get out the whole time?"

Wilbur's mouth went dry. "I - well, yes, I could but - "

His keeper stumbled off the table and hit the ground with a nasty sounding crack.

Wilbur sprang to his claws and scrambled forward. He popped his head out between the bars and stared down at his little keeper. "Are you okay?"

The human stared up at him with terror on his face and scrambled backwards, running for the door.

"Shit, shit, wait, I'm sorry! Please stay, please, Sunshine - "

The door slammed behind him with a resounding crack and Wilbur flinched backwards.

~ ~ ~ 🕸

i used to love drider aus back in 2020 🕷️🕷️🕷️

just a freaky little guy whose half dude and half Fear. potential off the charts.

my tag list got lost when my computer was annihilated (</3) but let me know in replies if you want to get @'d and i'll make a new one

oh yeah link to the writing prompt and story i did fill out

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Match 5

Summery: Seeing their dad went as much as Y/N excepted. At least there's breakfast with Jason to look forward to.

Warning: swearing, fluff (if I’m missing other warnings, let me know)

A/N: Mm, this took me longer then I wanted to and I'm not sure how I feel about this one. Originally, I wasn't going to write this but I felt I needed to. And here it is. Enjoy! And as always, feedback is always welcome.

Words: 4651

ao3

Series master list

@xoxoyourdoll

-------

October 10

You groaned as the early morning sun peeked through your windows and past the curtains and landed on your face. Covering your head with the blanket, you turned over onto your stomach, hoping to get some more sleep. But sleep was gone and you had too many thoughts running through your mind to actually sleep. So, you laid there under the blanket and let your mind wander to what the day had planned for you.

But once you started thinking about Jason, your thoughts stalled and you wondered what he was up to. And as if you had conjured him from your thoughts, your phone dinged with the ringtone you had set for him. Smiling, you stuck out your arm from the blanket and reached for the phone.

Rolling onto your side, you curled into yourself and squinted at the sudden light assaulting your eyes, you blinked at the time.

Jason (6:31 am) Good morning Is Metropolis always this bright? I don’t think I can live here if it is It hurts my eyes

Y/N You know Its your day off SLEEP

Jason Nah don’t think I can I get to see you in a couple of hours

Y/N Shut up I don’t think you’re capable of sleeping longer the eight It’s not in your blood

Jason Somehow, your right

Y/N Always am

Jason Why are you awake? You strike me as someone who loves sleep

Y/N I do love sleep But only in my bed Anywhere else, no thank you Its not the right kind of bed

Jason I hear you So, what’s the plan for today?

Y/N Well, I’m going to stay in bed until someone kicks me out Then have some coffee

Jason That’s not breakfast

Y/n Have someone tell me that isn’t breakfast

Jason Smartass

Y/N Then I’m going to pack everything I brought Go to the hospital when visiting hours start See my dad for a bit Then have actually breakfast with a stranger Then go home with said stranger

Jason I hope you know this stranger And that he treats you well You deserve the world

Y/N Man, I hope he knows that Otherwise I’m just going to have to kick his ass

Jason I bet you’d win

Y/N I’m tougher than I look So maybe

Jason Let me know when you’re done at the hospital We’ll meet up somewhere

Y/N Can do

You stood in front of the building, squinting at it as you debated whether you wanted to go in or not. Well, you knew you didn’t want to, it was a matter if you should or not.

Sighing in defeat, you dropped your head and made your way in. Knowing full well you were going to head if you didn’t visit your dad. You walked through the halls of the hospital and too soon you found your way to his room.

You peaked in, noticing a nurse was checking up on him, while he was paying attention to the tv in the corner. Your eyes roamed towards the tv and snorted when you noticed it was one of those fixit or sell it shows. No matter where he was, he always managed to find shows like these.

The noise drew the attention of the nurse. She gave you a smile before turning to your dad. “I’ll be out of your hair in a moment, dear. Just need to check on your father.” How she knew that was your dad, you didn’t know and didn’t want to find out.

“That’s okay,” you said as you set your backpack down by the door before walking in. “Take your time.” You stood by the side of the bed, watching the tv as you waited for the nurse to leave. Once she was done, she sent you a smile and told your dad that if he needs her, to press the call button.

He waved her worry away and turned to look at you once the nurse was out of the room. “Surprised to see you here,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “Didn’t think I’d see you until Thanksgiving.”

“Didn’t find out you had surgery until yesterday morning,” you answered with a shrug. “When was it booked anyways?”

“A month ago.”

Ah, another thing they forgot to tell you about. You understand why your dad wouldn’t mention it, you barely talk as it is. But your mom? Or siblings? You talk to them more than your dad, at least they could have mentioned it. Trying not to let it sour your mood even more, you pushed the hurt away and turned to look at him.

He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept much last night. You suppose with the surgery that took half the day, and the pain he might be in, it would make sense if he didn’t sleep. And he always looked tired whenever you came home for the weekend, so it wasn’t much different. But other than that, he had more colour in his face then the last time you saw him. That was a start at least.

“How are you feeling anyways?” you asked, as he turned back to the tv.

“Fine.”

“In pain?” you asked again, he just shrugged. Kay, awesome, you thought as you looked around the room, trying to think of something to say. “Working on anything new at home?”

“Torn down the porch, thought I might redo it,” he answered and you raised your eyebrows in wonder.

“Have enough energy for that?”

“I rest when I can and I’m getting your brother to help.”

“Right.” And the conversation stalled from there. Sighing, you took out your phone and held in a wince as you looked at the time. Fifteen minutes, you were only here for ten minutes and you had planned to be here longer. But there was nothing to talk about and he seemed more invested in the show than talking to you.

Well, can’t say that you tried. With that thought, you made the decision to cut the visit short. You only hoped your mom would understand why you left before she came to the hospital.

“Where’s your mom?” he asked before you could make your move to leave. The question caught you off guard and you stood there without answering for a minute. He turned to look at you with a pointed look, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, home. She said she had a few things she needed to do before coming here,” you answered, scratching your neck as you thought. “She wanted to pack you some clothes and essentials for your stay here, buy some books and whatnot. She’ll be here around lunch, I think. Sonner if she gets everything done.”

He nodded and silence settled into the room once more.

“See you around Dad,” you finally said when the silence became too much.

“What? Leaving me already?” he asked, finally turning to you and watching as you backed towards the door.

You shrugged, bending down to pick up your backpack as you got to the door. “You’re busy-” not really but you weren’t going to point that out. “-and I have a train to catch.” Not the truth, your train wasn’t until a little later, but he didn’t need to know that. “I’ve got class after lunch and everything I need is still back in my apartment.”

“Alright, see you at Thanksgiving,” he dismissed with a wave, as if you were an annoying fly. Which sometimes you wondered if you were.

“Yeah, see you then,” you mumbled as you turned and all but ran out of the room. The whole exchange has you exhausted and you want to skip breakfast with Jason to take a nap. But you won’t.

You don’t know why you bother hoping things will change between the two of you. It never will, no matter how nice or well behaved you are, he’ll treat you with indifference. Like you don’t matter. 

But sometimes there will be moments that make you feel special. He’ll treat you like everyone else. Like you mean something to him, that you matter. It makes you feel seen and not so alone. Those you keep close to your heart, because they usually get ruined minutes later when his mood turns.

Sighing, you make your way out of the hospital and towards the park across the street. Looking around, you find a secluded bench and quickly walk towards it.

Dropping your backpack down, you sit and pull up your knees hiding your face in them and breathe. You take a moment just to breathe, trying to calm down and push away the hurt.

A few moments later, once you feel a little better, you pull out your phone. Going to the only person you want to talk to at the moment.

Y/N (8:30 am) I hate hospitals 

Jason Yeah they are not fun

Y/N Had your fair share of experience?

Jason You know it

Y/N I’m not even going to ask

Jason Not fun memories How’s your dad?

Y/N Fine

Jason Ready for breakfast?

Y/N Not really I just want to take a nap But food does sound good

Jason Good I was gonna make you eat if you said no

Y/N I have no doubt you would

Jason Where are you anyways? I’ll meet you there 

Y/n Uh, at the park across the street I think it’s on 5th?

Jason You don’t know where you are?

Y/n I know where I am I just don’t memorize the street names

Jason Wow Not to worry, Conner knows the place

Y/N Conner?

Jason My friend whom I went to see yesterday Maybe you know him

Y/n Just because I’m from Metropolis, doesn’t mean I know everyone

Jason Conner Kent, went to Metropolis High?

Y/n OH Yeah I know him We didn’t talk much though so I can’t say I know him He was a wannabe journalist from what I can remember

Jason What do you mean he was a wannabe journalist?

Y/n His articles were okay But it felt like he was trying too hard? Like he was trying to prove a point or something I don’t know, he was better behind the camera But what do I know? I’m an engineer major not a literature major

Jason You read the school newspaper?

Y/n Yeah, my friend was the editor for it Had me read some of the articles before she published them 

Jason WANNABE JOURNALIST EXCUSE ME I POURED MY HEART AND SOUL INTO THEM I EVEN HAD HELP FROM MY COUSIN AND HE WORKS AT THE DAILY PLANET

Y/N Oh OH NO JASON WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME

Jason I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU My articles were FANTASTIC Not my fault you can’t enjoy good writing Like you can do better? Please

Y/N I have Who do you think wrote the advice column 

Jason THAT WAS YOU?! Shit, never mind I stand corrected 

Y/n Got suckered into it But yeah, that was me

Jason You two are terrible I hope you know Besides I thought it was implied that he was with me?

Y/N Nooooooooo I’m so tired I didn’t even comprehend words

Jason That’s a pretty big word for someone’s who’s sleep deprived 

Y/n Shut up Why did you tell him?

Jason I did no such thing He’s nosey and read over my shoulder Took my phone before I could even stop him

Y/n Welp, I’m going to end it now Goodbye cruel world Twas nice knowing you 

Jason Don’t even Conner wants your number Apparently he’s not done yelling at you for what you said 

Y/n No

Jason Aw come on! Please? We can talk about anything! But you know AFTER I yell at you

Y/n Oh in that case Hard pass

Jason I’ll get your number eventually 

Y/N Stop letting Conner steal your phone

Jason I would But it’s hard when he’s fucking faster then you

Y/n Really You look like you run everyday

Jason I do But Conner’s a different fucking breed

Y/N Alright sure I’m just gonna put my phone away and wait for you in silence If that’s okay with you

Jason Not a problem Gives me time to beat Conner

Y/N …right

---

“Do you think I can meet ‘em?” Conner asked, leaning towards him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his phone. Jason shoved him away before sending out a final message. “They seem great if you came all the way here to spend time with them.”

“Not today,” he finally answered as he stuffed his phone in his pocket, “they’ve had a tough morning. I think meeting new people is the last thing they want right now.”

That worried Conner and he turned to study Jason as he asked, “everything okay?” Jason shrugged.

“Not my story to tell, but they don’t have the greatest relationship with their dad.”

“But they’re okay now? Right? They don’t need any help to get away or anything?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. Probably just really tired,” Jason mused, and he hoped you would get some rest on the train ride back. Though he doubted it, you had said that you don’t sleep on public transportation.

“That’s good,” Conner said, looking straight. “Hate to have to beat up someone’s dad.”

Jason snorted at the thought but kept his thoughts to himself. “Sure.”

“I would you know,” he said, stretching his arms out behind his head. “So, if they don’t want to meet new people, how come you guys are meeting for the first time today?”

“This isn’t the first time we’re meeting,” Jason said, and could feel the curious glance Conner shot him. “We met two nights ago. Y/N was getting mugged and after they called me and asked if I wanted to meet up.”

“Weird that you’re the first person they called after something like that,” Conner mused, mind drifting back to high school. “Usually when they need someone, they call their mom or sister.”

“Yeah, but their family lives here. They moved to Gotham once they graduated high school,” Jason explained, and Conner made a noise at the news.

“But why Gotham?”

“I don’t really know.” They lapsed into silence as the two continued walking, two blocks away from the park, Jason spoke up. “What do you mean by that? They didn’t get in trouble at school, did they?”

“Nah, they kept to themselves most of the time. Other times, they hung out with their friends,” Conner explained. “They had a routine and you could always find them in the library hiding away. They weren’t really talkative but once you got to know them, they weren’t bad.”

“I thought you guys weren’t friends.”

“We weren’t, but they hung out in the newsroom after school and sometimes we’d talk,” Conner said, smiling. “They were cool in their own way. Would like their number so we can build that friendship that could have been.”

“No,” Jason said and before Conner could argue his phone rang. Digging it out of his pocket, he answered it before saying it was Clark. Jason tuned out the conversation and let his mind drift to breakfast, hoping it would bring you into a better mood. After this weekend, you deserved it.

“Clark needs me,” Conner said, bringing Jason out his thoughts. “Tell Y/N to feel better and that I still want their number.”

“Not going to happen,” Jason grumbled. Conner laughed, hitting Jason’s back a little too hard judging by the grunt.

“You sound like a jealous boyfriend,” he said and didn’t let Jason dwell on that thought for too long. “Anyways, just keep walking straight and you’ll see the park. See you around Jason,” he said, turning and left.

“Uh, bye,” Jason said, watching his friend walk away.

The walk was too short for Jason to think over what Conner said. He walked into the park and scanned the area until he found a familiar mop of hair.

Smiling, he took out his phone and snapped a picture of you to send. He watched as you lifted your head from the back of the bench and fished out your phone from your pocket. 

He laughed at the confusion written on your face as you opened his message. He stood still as you whipped your head up and looked around the park until you found what you were looking for. When your eyes connected with his, Jason’s heart lurched as your eyes lit up.

Happy. You were happy, and Jason’s stomach squirmed at the genuine happiness he brought you.

When was the last time someone looked happy to see him? The thought raced through his mind. Who actually wanted to see him that wasn't his family? And why did it make him happy that just seeing him made your mood better?

He shoved the questions from his mind, and made his way over to you. He can think it over later, right now he has breakfast plans and he has every intention of making that happen.

As he walked towards you, you stood from the bench, bouncing on your feet a little. As if you couldn’t believe he actually came here.

When he was close enough, you let gravity take over and fell into his chest. Jason grunted at the impact and tried not to wince as it stung the bruise on his chest. Why he agreed to spar with Conner last night, he had no idea.

The weight on her chest brought comfort for Jason, and wondered if it did the same thing for you. “Morning,” he said, brings his arms up and around your shoulders.

“Morning,” you mumbled into his shirt, and the tension in your shoulders relaxed. Jason could only smile. “Conner isn’t here is he?”

“No, he cousin needed him for something,” Jason answered, chuckling a little when your shoulders dropped some more. “Ready for breakfast?” 

You nodded into his shirt, and Jason spun around so he was standing next to you, one arm still around your shoulder. You didn’t mind, and leaned into the touch.

His smile only grew and he bent down to pick up your backpack before walking. “C’mon, I saw a breakfast diner on the way here.”

The walk was silent and Jason found he didn’t mind silence with you. It’s comfortable, safe, safe enough that it quiets his mind.

“So, how was your morning?” you said after finding a seat in the diner and after the waitress left. Jason shrugged and started fidgeting with his menu.

“Good,” he answered and you raised your eyebrow in question. “What?”

“Not much of a talker huh?” you questioned, trying not to smile at the put off look he was giving you.

“I’m not much for small talk,” he answered with a snort. “Which is wild considering that we’ve been talking.”

“Yeah, but there’s a huge difference between texting and talking face to face.”

“Yes, but we’ve met once and facetimed yesterday,” Jason reminded, “so it shouldn’t be awkward.”

“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward,” you said, tilting your head a little. “Unless you’re just an awkward person in general.”

Jason narrowed his eyes and leaned over to poke you on the forehead. “Please. You're the awkward one between the two of us.”

“And if I am?”

“Then you are,” Jason said with a shrug. He squinted his eyes, debating whether or not to tease you. By the way you were eyeing him, he couldn’t help but smile. “So, still want to kiss my stupid face?” he asked, and had the joy of watching your face turn red. You sank in your chair and pulled the scarf you were wearing over your chin.

“I take back what I said,” you muttered, “you're just stupid. And that’s at least a third date.”

“Then I can’t wait until I take you out next time,” he said with a smile as you dropped your scarf from your face.

“Meeting up the other day doesn’t count as a date,” you state, leaning onto the table.

“It counts to me.”

“Then you’re wrong. We met up because I didn’t want to be alone and you were the first person I thought of.”

“I feel special.”

“And-” you continue as if you didn’t hear him say anything, “-I was crying half that time. That doesn’t sound like a date to me. Which was a bit embarrassing once I thought about it yesterday, by the way. Who cries on someone they’ve never met before?”

“Doesn’t matter if you were crying, it’s not going to turn me away. I’m here, aren’t I?” he questioned, you nodded and he continued, “and besides, I’ve seen you sick before. And that wasn’t a good look on you.”

“…what?” you asked and Jason realized his mistake and winced. “What does that mean?”

“I, uh,” Jason stuttered, trying to come up with a lie of some sort. But the way you were looking at him, had him coming up blank. You leaned over the table to cover part of his head, squinting at him with one eye open. After you stared at him for what felt like forever, you dropped your hand and leaned back.

“You were the delivery driver, weren’t you?” you asked, and all Jason could do was nod. “Son of a bitch. I knew there was something familiar about you. But I was too sick to figure out why. So, did you make the soup? Is that why you wouldn’t tell me what restaurant it came from.”

“Yeah, hope you don’t mind,” he said and relaxed when you waved his worry way.

“Nah, it’s okay. I trusted you enough not to do anything funny, and you didn’t,” you said. “Besides, it was really good soup.”

Jason smiled and just as he was about to say something, their waitress dropped off their drinks. The two of you ordered, and waited until she left before continuing the conversation.

“You know she’s flirting with you,” you pointed out.

“Maybe, but I only have eyes for you,” he said, and smiled as you blushed again. “You know, red really is a good colour on you.”

“You need to stop.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Kissing me became a fifth date thing now,” you said, “you have to wait until the fifth date and I have to say it counts as the fifth date.”

Jason crossed his arms on the table and leaned in with a smirk. “Are you sure? You’ll be missing out.”

“Maybe so, but you will be too.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you're a good kisser?” You flushed, and hid in your scarf again, shaking your head.

“I could be a horrible kisser,” you muttered.

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Date five,” you sang.

“Do hang outs count?” Jason asked, and you scrunch your nose in confusion. “As dates or just towards getting to kiss you?”

“Oh. I don’t know, guess we’ll have to wait and see,” you answered after a moment of thought. You leaned back into the booth as you saw your waitress coming towards you.

Jason followed your lead, and soon your food was set in front of you. You watched as she gave Jason a smile, trying to flirt with him but all he did was give his thanks and turned to his food.

She left with a huff, and a giddy feeling that he didn’t seem that all interesting. Before you could put too much thought on that, you noticed Jason’s hands as he unfolded his napkin.

You tilted your head slightly and wondered how he got his scars. Not wanting to bother him about it now, you turned to your food, missing the knowing look Jason shot you.

Breakfast was comfortable, you talked about whatever came to mind and avoided the topics neither of you wanted to talk about. And all too soon, breakfast was over and paid for and you found yourself walking towards the train station.

“So, how many classes do you have today?” Jason asked.

“Uh, one I think,” you answered, but you weren’t quite sure. “I’ll have to check when I get back home. Why?”

“Just wondering is all.”

“You don’t have anything planned, do you? No surprise visits with soup in hand?” You teased, nudging his side with your elbow. Jason laughed and shook his head.

“No surprise visits,” he promised, “today at least. Can’t promise about visits in the near future though.”

“As long as I’m not sick, then go for it. But bring food please. Chances are I’ll be hungry,” you said with a smile. Jason chuckled but agreed all the same.

Once you neared the station, a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. You walked through the station, lost in thought and Jason made sure the two of you made it to your seat’s safety. “Penny for your thoughts?” Jason asked, shaking you out of your thoughts.

Blinking, you turned towards him in confusion. “What?”

“You’re thinking about something pretty hard there,” Jason said, poking your forehead to emphasize his statement. “What’s got you distracted?”

“Can I see your hands?” you asked instead of answering. Jason raised an eyebrow in surprise but he held up a hand for you to take. You weren’t sure how to put it into words, so you did so in action instead. Gently taking his hand in yours, you traced the scars that littered over his palms and fingers and wondered how far they went.

Jason watched you as you studied them, and held in a shiver as you lightly traced them with your finger. He wasn’t sure what you thought of them and a part of him didn’t want to know. But a bigger part of him was curious, wondered if you thought they were ugly and wanted nothing to do with him when you knew the true story behind the scars.

“Life didn’t treat you well, huh?” you whispered, eyes still on his hand. He hummed in agreement, and wanted to pull away when you traced one that led up his arm, that was underneath his jacket sleeve. But you stopped when you reached the hem of the sleeve, and moved your hand until it was holding his. “Well, I hope life will treat you better than it did before,” you wished with so much confidence, Jason believed what you said would come true. He hoped it would.

Still holding his hand, you reached down to your backpack to retrieve a book and sat back to read, like nothing had happened. But something did for Jason and maybe for you too, Jason wasn’t sure. But whatever happened between the two of you at that moment, he hoped it was something good. And maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. But as long as you were there with him, it didn’t matter to him.

He studied you for a moment before shaking his head and sat back. You continued to surprise him.

Originally, you wanted to spend the train ride back home doing homework, or reading or anything else. But the warmth and the feeling of being safe that came from Jason beside you, and the fact that you hadn’t slept in the last couple of days, had your eyes closing on their own. Your head dropped onto his shoulder gently, your book falling out of your hands as you let sleep claim you.

Jason snatched your book before it could fall to the floor, and looked over when he felt weight on his shoulder. He smiled softly as you slept, and moved to sit more comfortably on the seat, wanting you to sleep peacefully. “I’ll protect you,” he promised.

And he meant every word.

[angelkissiies]

Hellooo if you don’t do requests totally ignore this rn, but if you doooo I have a request for hockey player!Abby Anderson and cheerleader reader 👀

So basically Abby is watching her practise and some other girl in the squad runs into her on the ice and reader gets injured, Abby then is the concerned gf ofc and takes care of r??

You could do it so the girl who ran into R did it on purpose for some reason to add spice but that’s not necessary, have a good day/night!! :)

playing dirty

abby anderson x reader

cw : descriptive injuries, angst, cheerleaders being horrible, abby is stressed tf OUTTT, blood, again skating injuries read at your own discretion. hockey!au. modern!au. abby lowkey is rich bc her dads a surgeon.

a/n : this got less fluffy more serious and im so sorry !! I got super carried away so I’m sorry if this isn’t how you wanted it! also its not proofread in the slightest.

wc : 2.2k

Abby had a habit of tagging along with you on long practice days, spending her time watching the team go over their routine or doing homework silently so as to not disturb anyone. It was a guilty pleasure, to be completely honest, as she loved to watch you do your thing on the ice- wondering how someone so usually reserved could shine so brightly under pressure. If she’d had the gall, she would've compared you to a diamond. That seemed to be less than fitting, seeing as there was no time in your life she could ever consider you rough or dull. To her, no matter what you were doing, it was showstopping.

It was no different today, she sat on the far side of the rink in silence as her airpod blared music into her ear. She’d gotten into the habit of using one instead of two in case she was needed, which was rare, but it did happen. At some point, the words of 'let it die' by the foo-fighters faded from her attention as she brought herself to peer through the plexiglass to scan the groups of girls for you. She usually had a knack for finding you almost instantly, but today you seemed to be tucked somewhere she couldn’t see as the music for the first routine began to blare over the speakers.

She couldn’t recognize the song as she watched the groups skim over the ice gracefully, performing stunts she was sure she’d never be able to do even with the amount of training she’d been through on the ice. It always put your dedication into perspective, long nights in the rink mixed with early morning workout sessions to keep you at your best- it took a lot to do what you did but you never complained. Not once had she ever seen you unhappy about what you do, with that, she made a mental note to herself to tell you more often how much she admired you.

You, on the other hand, were not feeling so graceful. With a face full of stray hairs from your impossibly loose bun and a uniform coated in tiny ice shards from the girl in front of you digging her skates into the ice- you’d almost had enough. It wasn’t often you had bad days at practice, but when it rained it poured. Seeing as a monsoon seemed to be occurring, you’d been pushing as hard as you could to just make it through this practice and take it back home in one piece. Though, it seemed to be increasingly difficult when the girl before you (yeah, ice shard girl) kept doing her spins a little too loosely and letting her blades come a little too close to your legs.

“Okay, listen, you guys are too far apart. I think we need to come in a little closer.” The coach called out, halting the music before it even got to the halfway mark. That was a clear sign that she hated what was happening, seeing as she at least gave it to the halfway mark to really come together. More stopping meant longer practice which meant Abby would have to carry you home in a bucket of your own tears by the time you were allowed to leave the ice.

You huffed slightly, pushing back the flyaways in a manner that did relatively nothing, before getting back to your original mark. By now, the girl in front of you was so close you could hear her snippy chatter with who you could assume was her friend on her left side.

“She’s totally blocking you from spinning.”

“No, because I was literally thinking the same thing, like, she needs to get it together.”

“For real, like first she shows up to practice looking like that, and now she’s being a total clutz on the ice.”

“Wouldn’t it be funny if you-”

The music beginning drew you from their not-so-private conversation, pushing your mind back to the task at hand before allowing yourself a small glance towards the benches. From your spot, you could see your girlfriend shuffling music on her phone before bringing her attention back to the ice- watching carefully.

Abby was a little bored, her usual girlfriend watching activities halted by the change in density- making it ten times harder for her to find you, so she bobbed back and forth between half-assing her chemistry homework and watching the routine play out. Not that she minded, either way, she’d be able to take you home tonight and admire you then- as she always did. Some might call her cheesy or overly affectionate but she knew you didn’t mind, even liking the way she’d always look for you in a crowd.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You hissed quietly, barely audible over the music as you just barely missed the girl in front of you’s skate. She’d released too early and you weren’t in place to be out of the way just yet, causing the blade to almost skim the sensitive skin of your ankle before you moved away and into your next mark. If you didn’t know any better, you’d be thinking that she was doing it on purpose- but that just wasn’t possible. Everyone on the team knew how dangerous blade cuts were, especially since you had to sit through an entire hour-long seminar on rink safety to even audition for the team.

Even the idea made you wince, urging you to fuck up choreo just to avoid her completely. It was definitely an option. Though, you didn’t get to think about it too long before you felt yourself hit the ice.

Abby watched the entire thing, mouth wide open as she saw the girl's leg fall too early during her move to slash a gash across your thigh. She couldn’t find the will to breathe as she jerked her lone airpod out and let her things fall to the ground before practically throwing herself onto the ice. She’d barely made it onto the ice before she heard a terrified scream fall from your mouth, probably from the sight of the blood that had begun to spill from your thigh and onto the ice. “Oh shit.”

You didn’t feel it until you saw it, eyes glazing over at the sight of the cut. It didn’t look deep enough to need stitches but it sure as hell was deep enough to cause a scene- drawing a scream from your lips unconsciously as the blood created a massive red spot on the previously pristine ice, the sight was enough to make you faint- but as you glanced around for help you saw the other girls staring horrified.

“Girls, get out of the way!” Your coach shouted, pushing past them with a first aid kit that seemed to manifest out of nowhere. You didn’t even see her leave the ice, she was so fast. She knelt down beside you, ignoring the blood as it seeped into her sweatpants.

You almost fainted, vision slightly blurry as you let your head fall back on the ice, only coming into focus when you saw a familiar silhouette pushing past your teammates who stood, continuing to stare, at the scene. “Abby, hey.” You murmured, watching as she audibly reacted to the depth of the cut.

“Did someone call a fucking ambulance?” She shouted, startling a couple of the girls who were close enough to be useful. Her face was two shades paler, making her look sickly as she tried to remain calm. As a hockey player, she’d seen far too many skate incidents, learning that the blades were more than enough to break the skin and even arteries if aimed correctly. That seemed to be her biggest fear now, as she watched the coach clean and dress the wound temporarily. Though, as the gauze met your wound it soaked with crimson, making her stomach churn slightly.

You bit back a morbid laugh, swallowing thickly as you spared a quick glance at your uniform that now sported random splotches of blood that you guessed splattered when the initial impact happened. It was comical considering how many times you’d chided Abby in the past couple of weeks about wearing her padding properly, worried about this exact result. For some reason, you never even considered that it would happen to you. Funny how things pan out.

The coach shed her jacket, dropping it onto the ice to soak up some of the blood before pressing down onto the cut to provide some pressure- much to your dismay. “Did she stutter? Go call an ambulance for Christ's sake.” She sighed, glancing up to see how you seemed to be doing- letting out a relieved breath to see that you were still conscious.

“Hey.” Abby hummed quietly, hearing the music cut off finally and the rink fall into silence only disturbed by quiet murmuring. She moved her hands to push the hair from your sweaty forehead, feeling in the same brush the chill that had entered your skin. “When I said ‘cut it up’ I didn't mean it so literally.” She attempted a joke, her laugh coming out uneasy as she referenced your conversation from earlier.

You laughed quietly, giving a small shrug as you began to regain some color to your face. “What can I say? I follow instructions to a T.” The patch-up job your coach did seemed to be working as you felt your body will with warmth again, attempting to fight off the icy chill of the ice below you (not to mention your sudden lack of blood).

She shook her head, biting the inside of her lip roughly before glancing around at the girls. The girl responsible looked like she was going to be ill, her bloody skate discarded on the floor by the exit as she regained her composure. “Hey, how did this happen?” She spoke again, leaning down slightly to cover some of her words. Though, yes, she did see the girl drop her leg too early- something seemed off to her. The entire situation having been weird from the start.

“Too close, that girl kept getting mad that I was fucking up her spins or something.” You whispered, glancing over to where they sat now- facing away from the ice. “They were talking shit about me before we restarted the routine.” You told her, leaving out all of the mostly unimportant details.

Abby clicked her tongue against her teeth, nodding slightly as she looked back down at you, giving you a soft smile. “No need to worry about that, pretty.” She hummed, hearing the sound of sirens getting closer to the rink. Someone she didn’t notice must've finally called, thank god. “You took that like a champ though, I've seen grown men pass out from cuts smaller than that.” She praised, watching as the blush color rose back into your cheeks- making her let out a small sigh of relief.

“Will you call my parents and let them know what happened? They were supposed to come see me perform at the game this weekend but I don't think that's gonna happen.” You asked, attempting to sit up but failing as it sent a sharp pain through your leg. You made a mental note to sue that girl, especially if this caused your exit from cheering. “I don’t want them to worry though.”

She nodded, tearing her eyes from yours as she watched the paramedics enter and hustle down the walkway to the rink. “Of course, pretty girl. You focus on them, okay? I’ll follow behind them in the car so I can take you home afterward.” She explained, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before getting to her feet to move out of their way.

Abby let you fade from her sight as she focused her attention on the girls who sat unmoving in the team lot. She didn't know them personally but she sure as hell was about to as she shuffled over to the exit door- taking them by surprise momentarily.

“The fuck do you want?” One of them, the less bright one she assumed, spoke- causing the other girl to shush her almost instantly.

She sat nervously on the bench, one skate still laced and firmly on her foot whilst the other one leaked blood onto the ice right outside the door. If Abby didn’t know any better, she would've thought it was an accident. Based on the reaction from the girl now and the sight of it all, though her friends reaction solidified her original assumptions. “Allison, just shut up.” She stated firmly, voice trembling as she wrung her hands. “We’re so sorry, It was just supposed to be-”

“Shut up and listen,” Abby growled, leaning down to their level as she prepared to spell out what was going to happen to them. “You are going to go to coach and tell her exactly what happened, I’ll know if you lie because I fucking watched it. Then, you’re going to go home and wait for my fucking lawyers to call. Think you could do that?”

Was it maybe overkill, yes. Did she care, absolutely not.

The girls nodded, faces warped into a mortified look as they scampered back onto the ice- the main girl almost tripping on her discarded skate.

Abby drew her phone from her pocket, shooting her dad a quick SOS text before dialing up your parents, listening to the dull tone ring before your mother finally picked up.

“Hey! Not to worry you but..”

[jacksdinonuggets]

Caregiver Lucifer

Wow another fic where charlie is overworking herself? sooo original...

thats basically the plot. Please request something so i stop doing the same plot so many times.

Things at the hotel were stressful as usual. Charlie was trying to come up with plans and evidence that sinners could be redeemed while Vaggie had to stop everyone from fighting or Angel from getting everyone uncomfortable. He really needed to know about boundaries.

However, Charlie didn’t feel like taking a break. If she would then she would be in a block and no longer come up with ideas. It was a common thing that happened to her.

As she was doing more paperwork and coming up with plans in her office area, her phone rang. She saw the caller was her dad and picked it up.

“Dad?” She answered tiredly. She really hoped he wasn’t calling to tell her about his new magical rubber ducks.

“Sweetie! How are ya? You doing good, I hope?” He asked in his usual upbeat attitude.

“Yeah, uh-huh,” She absent mindedly replied, not paying attention and instead focusing on her work.

Lucifer frowned from the other side of the phone. It didn’t seem like she was okay. Usually she pays at least a little attention to what he says. Something must be up, he concluded.

“What's the matter, Charlie?” He asked. Upon barely hearing it, the girl was caught off guard.

“Wh-what? Could you repeat that?” Charlie said, wondering if she heard that right or was just too tired.

“I said, what’s the matter? You seem upset,” 

“I-I’m not upset! I’m just,” She yawned, “working,”

“Yeah, but its sounds like you’ve been at it for a while. Something must have happened if you aren’t taking breaks,” He said, concerned.

“I’m fine, Dad. The hotel is just… stressing me out a bit but i’ll be okay,” she promised.

“What about doing that thing you told me about a while ago, age re-pression?”

As much as Charlie would love to just be little and have her dad take care of her, the hotel and her people needed her. Heaven’s genocide was coming up very soon and she needed to be prepared.

“It’s age regression, and No. I don’t have time to be a stupid baby, its a dumb coping mechanism anyways,” she told him, getting a bit annoyed. She didn’t mean to have an attitude towards him, she was just really anxious and unfortunately took it out on him. She also knew she shouldn’t have called it stupid. It wasn’t fair to her little self inside of her. She was just trying to push it away.

“Hey, Its not dumb! Vaggie told me it helps you a lot. And if it helps, its not dumb,” He said.

“Whatever, I’m busy and need to get back to work, I’ll talk to you later,”

“Well, bye, I love y-” Charlie hung up the phone before he could even finish saying goodbye. She knew it was kind of rude but she just couldn’t handle it right now, especially with the fact that he brought up her coping mechanism. Now that she was aware of it, she wanted to do it more than anything.

Back at Lucifer’s place, He knew something was up. Charlie never acted this disrespectful and gloomy or from what he’s heard. He wanted to go visit her in person to see how she was doing. Besides, he needed to get out of his rubber duck house and into his daughter's life. But before he left, he had an idea. Grabbing his sewing kit, some fabric and yellow fur, he began to work.

He showed up 30 minutes later to the Hazbin hotel with a medium sized gift box in his hand. He opened the door and saw Vaggie pacing.

“Hey, Vaggie, What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Charlies been stuck in her office for more than 3 hours now. I’m getting worried but she won’t come down or even talk to me,” She explained.

“I’ll try to talk to her, okay? Don’t worry too much, you’ll feel sick after a bit,” He told her before heading upstairs to her office room.

He knocked on the door but didn’t hear a response. Another knock and she answered.

“Go away, I’m busy,” a muffled voice from inside the room said.

“No, I’m worried about you, Apple pie,” He answered back.

“Dad?!” She immediately knew it was him due to the apple pet-name. She opened the door and saw her short, king of hell, dad, in front of her.

“What- what are you doing here?” She asked.

“I told you, I’m worried about you. You don’t usually give me an attitude and that concerns me,” He sat her down on one of the couches inside and sat next to her.

“Here, I made you something. I hope it helps this stressful situation,” he gave her the gift wrapped box. She held it in her lap before taking off the top. Inside was a soft, stuffed ducky. It looked very similar to her old baby stuffy. She used to go every where with that stuffed toy. She wouldn’t be able to sleep without it. But once she grew older, it disappeared. No one knew where it went but Lucifer seemed to have gotten in a fight with Lilith that night.

“Is- is this Quacky?” she asked, voice cracking a little. She was slipping very quickly.

“Not really, I tried to remake him since we lost the original. Is it okay?”

Charlie took Quacky out of the box and gave him a big hug. He was soft and warm, just like the original.

“Thank you…”she mumbled.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. I was hoping it’d help you regress,” He explained. He really wanted his daughter to know that she was safe with him and allowed to be herself around him.

“O-okay, I guess i can,” she finally agreed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stay a big kid any longer. Lucifer was ecstatic. His daughter liked him now! She led him back to her room where she kept all of her stuff. She took out her pacifier and plopped it in, fully getting in the headspace. 

Once Lucifer poured apple juice into her sippy cup so she’d stay a little bit hydrated (water is better but he’s spoiling her), she handed him a red onesie

“Oh, do you need help?” he asked to which she nodded. He made quick work of changing her into the onesie. He couldn’t help but awe at how cute she was in it. The onesie with the pacifier was so adorable on her. She quite literally looked like a little toddler.

“Aww, who’s a wittle baby?” He picked her up from the armpits, making her giggle.

“Me!” she answered, laughing. His eyes teared up at the pure adorableness that was going on.

He put her back down again and she began to play with a few blocks. She was very confused but had fun learning the shapes and colors. She dug through her bag as she got bored again and found a big fidget toy. She sat down again and began playing with it. Her attention was fully on it, not getting bored of the squeaker button once. 

As Lucifer watched, he noticed how her hair was very messy now that it was down and really needed a combing. So he summoned a brush and sat behind, softly combing it through her hair as she played with the toy. She would giggle every time the bristles would tickle her scalp and flap her hands.

Once he was done, Charlie flopped onto the floor and began sticking her limbs in the air. Lucifer had no clue why she was doing this but it was so cute that he couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“Is not funny!” She sat up and spat out her pacifier and stuck her tongue out at him.

“I’m sorry, my little apple, I wasn’t laughing at you, though,” He ruffled her hair and handed the pacifier back. She looked at him with a glare but took the pacifier anyway.

As Lucifer cared and played with his child, he realized how much he missed out on during her childhood. He was always working and she mainly grew up with Lilith. It wasn’t fair for both of them. And now, he could finally spend some time with the baby he neglected.