#tried a new thing with the texting and social media edit

[marvelwitchergilmore]

New Routine Comfort

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> You work with the Tornado Wranglers and have done for a couple of years, but being newly single means you need to find a new routine and Tyler might just be the person to help.

Disclaimer: Mentions and appearance of a cheating asshole ex, Tyler and Reader are more co-workers than anything until that eventually changes..., swearing, love confessions, use of "Sweetheart" from the Cowboy Scientist, two-stepping, teaching to dance, mostly fluff, little angst, and the Cowboy Hat Rule (..kinda..) Not Proof Read.

When you joined the Tornado Wranglers, you joined at the request of Boone. They needed someone who could capture more footage than either him and Lily got and, since they had raised so much for families that had suffered from extreme tornado weather, they wanted to make it more permanent. 

Which was where you came in. You could help with footage collection, fundraisers, social media pages, editing and a couple other things. The rest of the team helped where they could, but you managed it well. 

However, this did mean that you didn’t see the team as much as you’d like save from the videos they sent you and the group chat Boone had added you into. 

However, it was one night sitting in a local watering hole that you found yourself growing closer to one of the Wrangler’s in particular. 

Tyler Owens. 

There was a week here and there that you’d join the team storm chasing each season. Except, this year’s week of you joining them on the road couldn’t have fallen at a worse time. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re gonna sit here all night drowning your sorrows in crappy beer?”

You shook your head. “I’m not.”

Boone tilted his head. “Oh, not the head tilt. Please.”

“Come on, Y/n. He was an asshole. Forget about him.”

“Little hard to forget when I was the one to walk in and catch them,” you looked back at your beer bottle. The label was practically torn to shreds from where you’d been scratching at it. “It’s like it’s burned into the back of my eyelids.” You took a long swig of your beer. 

Just a little over two months ago, you’d watched as your relationship of three years burst into a ball of flames. You’d come home, smiling as you texted the Wrangler’s telling them the company you’d been pestering for a large donation that, with their track record, would put them out of pennies, had not only agreed to donate but also to host and bring all of their more-than-wealthy partners to the event. 

Only, as you called through the door for your boyfriend, you heard a noise. Had he fallen?

Then you found the trail of clothes leading into the kitchen before another one made its way up the stairs towards your bedroom. 

“Have you tried thinking of something else? Maybe watching a horror movie?”

You nodded. “Apparently finding your partner cheating on you in your own bed, and subsequently finding out they’d been doing that for over a year…is the scariest thing for me.”

“Well…screw him! He never deserved you! And you deserve a good night! And some decent beer.”

You gave a slight smile. “Boone. I like my drink.”

And it was true. You did.

You watched as he grimaced and picked up the other beer bottles. “Don’t know how you can drink that stuff.”

And away he went back to the dance floor with the others. And you turned back to your drink, your thumb still scratching away at the label. 

An hour or so later, Tyler’s eyes found you in the crowd at the bar once more. He’d watched you all night. He’d watched you for the last two weeks if he was being completely honest with himself. 

Since you joined the team, he saw you maybe for two weeks across the entire year. One week storm chasing, and the next seven days scattered throughout the rest of the year. But when he found out of Boone you’d be joining the team for most of the chasing season, something sparked inside of Tyler. 

He was glad to have you aboard, of course. He might not have known that much about you, but he knew you well enough to know you joining the team for longer than a week meant something was wrong. 

And once you arrived, it took him three days to finally figure out why. 

“Are you sure she’s okay?”

Lily looked behind her, following Tyler’s gaze. Though, she could guess who it was. “Y/n? Oh, yeah. She’ll be fine. She’s hurtin’ right now, but she’ll be okay. Dude was an ass! Glad he’s gone.”

Tyler had met him only a handful of times but he could agree with Lily. He was an ass. An ass to you and an ass for letting you go. 

But, as Tyler watched you, he saw something in you change. You’d gone from slouched on the bar stool to…alert. And nervous. 

Confused, he followed the direction of your eye-line until he saw…

Him. 

Stood with some blonde who couldn’t stop giggling into his chest as his arms were wrapped around her in such a way he was being possessive whilst trying to show her off. 

And it was at that moment Tyler realised he wasn’t the only one watching you anymore. Because your ex had spotted you. 

“No.” Dani and Boone told him as the bottom of his chair scraped the wooden floor. “No, let her handle this. She needs this.”

Tyler didn’t look convinced. So, Lily added. 

“And if she’s not ready, then you can go. But they’re right. Let her handle it.”

So, reluctantly, Tyler sat back down. But he was itching to stand. He was itching to be at your side. 

But you handled it. 

Your ex approached you, and he seemed to make some kind of asshole comment about you. You didn’t seem pleased. Then everything about you…became fake. 

One look around you made you realise there were plenty of people still left inside the bar. More than when you had entered with the team, even. If you caused a scene, you’d get kicked out. And your team would follow. But it had been a long week. They deserved a good night. 

So you took it. You took his comments about smiling more, and setting him free and his thank yous for showing him he could have ‘something more with’ whoever the Blonde was waiting at the end of the bar for him. 

And when he patted your arm, you could have thrown up. You never wanted him to touch you again. You’d told him as much when he tried to hug you, not ten minutes after being caught having sex with someone else. 

And when he finally walked away…you wanted to run. But you had no energy left. Seeing him again zapped it all. You had been in love with him once, and believed he felt the same about you. All the memories of your relationship flashed behind your eyelids, before going back on themselves. The pictures told you of the lies he’d made in the last year you’d been with him. 

Tyler watched as your entire body sighed before you started counting the cash in your pocket to leave for your bill.

Your ex didn’t get to ruin your night by being here. He didn’t get to take away your happiness, or your freedom to have fun in your bar. 

“Okay, come on.”

You looked to your side and found Tyler stood there. He took your hand in his and dragged you with him. 

“Tyler!”

“No, no.” Turning to face you as he finally reached the dance floor, he kept his eyes on yours. “He doesn’t get to take your night away. Fuck that asshole.”

“That’s my problem. I did fuck that asshole. And then he fucked someone else.”

“Then let him.” Tyler told you. “You deserved better than him, anyway. You still do. Do you know how to dance?”

You were in shock. You and Tyler were never exactly close. Sure, you’d talked over text, but that was mostly in the Group unless you needed to contact him directly for something about a fundraiser or an appearance at a school to help students when it came to Tornado warnings. 

After a moment, you shook your head. 

He gave a curt nod and stepped closer to you. “That’s okay. I can teach you. Is it okay if I put my hand here?”

You looked to see where he meant. It was around your back. You nodded. 

“Okay, just keep your eyes on me. I’ll make sure you don’t trip.”

With one hand in his and your other on his arm, your eyes fell to the floor as you mirrored his steps. “I think you’re underestimating my two left feet.”

Tyler smiled with a small chuckle, and pulled you a little closer before tilting your chin up until your eyes met his. “Eyes on me, Sweetheart. I promise, I won’t let you trip. And nobody can be a worse dance partner than Boone.”

“You’ve danced with Boone?”

“Somebody had to teach him how to dance. I think my feet are still bruised.”

You smiled. “I’ll try and not make them worse.”

Tyler smiled as your eyes found his own, again. You were relaxing into the music. You were trusting him to take the lead. And before you knew it, the pair of you were two-stepping further into the dancefloor, a bright smile shared between the both of you. 

Four songs, two line dances, and one group square dance later, you found yourself back in the comfort of Tyler’s arms as he held his hand out to you from where you had both sat down at the table. 

With a nod and a genuine smile, you took hold of his hand and let him lead you towards the middle of the dancefloor. Tonight might have been the first time you’d both danced together, but somehow, it felt familiar. Routine. To be in his arms, to have his hand in yours, to have only him in front of your eyes and in your mind as you both softly danced to the slow song that played from the Jukebox Band on stage. 

“Thank you,” you found yourself saying. 

Tyler lifted his head from yours to look at you, and you did the same. “What do you mean?”

“I was about to go home. I would have spent the next twenty-four hours wanting to be alone and depressed. Instead, you did something else no-one has ever done.”

“And what is that?”

You felt yourself laugh a little. “Taught me to dance.”

Tyler’s mouth broke out into a smile before he took your hand and spun you around and back in. “You’re very welcome, but if I’m being honest, I might have had my own reasons. I need my own dance partner and, as much as I love the guy, Boone isn’t the most graceful.”

“So you’re calling me ‘graceful’? Have to say, that’s never been a word people have used to describe me.”

“Really?” Tyler sounded genuinely shocked. “All because you couldn’t dance?”

You felt a small blush heat under your cheeks. “Maybe I was in need of the right partner.”

Tyler felt himself blush. “Maybe you were. But I’d still call you graceful. I don’t know what people have described you as, but- if you don’t mind me saying.”

You shook your head. Coming from him, something in you didn’t mind a bit. In fact, you wanted to know. 

“I think you’re so much more than whatever people tell you.” 

When his gaze locked on yourself, you felt the rest of the room disappearing. 

“You’re beautiful. In your mind, in your heart and in your soul.”

You could feel your heart beginning to race. 

“Nobody should ever make you feel anything less than that. You’re an incredible human being, Y/n. We’re lucky to have you. I-”

Tyler felt the words catch in his throat. He didn’t want to scare you away. But he needed to tell you. He wanted to tell you. 

“I’m lucky to have you.”

You smiled as you watched Tyler. He was one of the kindest men you’d ever met. Maybe he had a wild side, but that was what made him so good at his job. Beneath all of the adrenaline chasing, Tyler had a heart and soul unlike any other. He loved his team, his family, his job and his life. 

Slowly, leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m lucky to have you, too.”

Tyler smiled and slowly, the rest of the room started to fade back in, slowly. 

“You should come out with us more. Who knows? You might just catch the bug for chasing Tornados?”

You smiled. “Boone has been trying to get me to come chasing for years. What makes you think I’ll change my mind now?”

Tyler smiled. “We’ll go out tomorrow. The data is showing a small EF-1. Just me and you. After all, you can’t stay in the van forever.”

Tyler could tell by your smile you were deliberating it. 

“You know,” you started. “Boone isn’t going to be happy we’re chasing without him.”

Tyler smiled. You had agreed. “I’ll make it up to him.”

Your smile settled onto your face. “Okay then. But just this one.”

Tyler nodded as you both slowly turned around in a circle. “We’ll see.”

Two months later, you’d been more chases than you could count. That morning Tyler had taken you out in his truck, there was a chance you could have called him an asshole (in a slightly more affectionate term) as he drove towards the tornado. 

You’d edited hours of footage but being the one in the passenger seat was something else. 

But the minute you looked up and out of the window and back to him…something changed. Something changed between you and storm chasing. Something changed between you and your job. Something changed between you and Tyler. 

Boone, once he’d been cleared of his hangover, wasn’t happy about being left out from a chase. But Tyler found a way to make it up to him. And since you left Boone to sit in the front for most of the chases, had you made it up to him, too. 

Sometimes you’d stay in the truck with Dexter and Dani but it was becoming much more routine for you to sit in the back of Tyler’s truck as he drove into another tornado. 

And on the rare opportunity. Boone would give you his seat beside Tyler in the truck. You’d get better pictures for socials that way. At least, that was his excuse. It definitely wasn’t to give the Live Feed viewers what they wanted, which was more of you and Tyler together. 

But in those two months, things had just been…teetering. You knew you felt something for Tyler, but you were too scared to let your feelings known in case he didn’t feel the same. At the end of the day, you loved your job and the team. You didn’t want to give them up because of a school girl crush you had on the Cowboy Tornado Wrangler. 

But the others saw the way Tyler looked at you, too. They’d seen it since he first met you. He never made a move considering you were in a relationship, but that didn’t stop his feelings from growing when he saw you or saw your name pop up on his phone. 

And since you started actually chasing with him…he was a goner. 

He looked at you like you hung the moon, and you looked at him in the exact same way. But apparently only the team and the comments section of the videos could see it. 

“I can’t believe the season’s almost over.”

Tyler shook his head. “We’ve still got a month or so left.”

“I know, but…I’m really enjoying it.”

He smiled proudly. “Told you you’d catch the bug.”

You and Tyler, like every weekend, had found yourselves back in each other's arms on the dancefloor, two-stepping along to another song. And being back in his arms was like your two left feet had disappeared. 

It might have also helped you’d both practised in your hotel rooms over the last couple of months. For the last month, you’d both been sharing a room since every motel that Boone and Lily found only seemed to have so many rooms left. And with the others bunking together, it left you and Tyler together. 

“I got a call, by the way. A school just outside of Wichita is wondering if you and the team will come down and talk to the kids. Most of them have seen your videos, but a lot of them are scared and the city’s local ‘what to do in a Tornado’ has scared them all half to death.”

Somehow, Tyler had this magic about him. Whenever he and the team went into school to explain about Tornados, all the kids walked away a hell of a lot less scared than they were when they walked in. In fact, most of them walked away talking to their parents about meteorology and the science behind a Tornado. 

“Of course we will.”

You smiled. “Good. Because I already said yes.”

He figured you might have done. “When do they want us there?”

“As soon as you're available.”

“We could go after this next chase? There might be an EF-3 in the next couple of days. I want to make sure people are safe.”

You nodded with a smile. “We can go after, then.”

Soon the song came to an end. “I’m gonna get a drink, want one?”

Tyler nodded as he let go of your hand and he went towards the team’s booth. “Please.”

Ordering your drinks, you waited for them to be ready. Only, as you did so, you felt the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. There was a familiar smell in the air and it made your entire skin crawl. 

Then you saw him. 

“Aren’t you meant to be in a mourning period or some shit?”

You were taken aback by his abruptness. “Excuse me?”

“We’ve been broken up for less than six months then I come in here and see you trying to flirt your way into some guy’s pants.”

“What? Like you and her over there? Tell me, is she the one from during me, or after me?”

“You bitch. She’s my girlfriend.”

“And that’s different?”

You ex stood straighter and hissed. “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes. She’s my girlfriend. He’s just- What? You’re fuckbuddy?!”

Before you could answer, you felt a much more comforting presence behind you followed by his voice and a hat being placed on your head. 

“Boyfriend, actually.”

You turned your head and looked at Tyler who just winked and you relaxed into his arm that laid across your shoulders. 

“And I don’t appreciate you calling her a bitch.”

“How long have you been fucking him?!”

Then Tyler stepped in front of you. The hand on his back let him know he’d done the right thing. 

“You’re done talking to her now. You’re gonna talk to me. Better yet, you’re gonna listen. The biggest mistake you ever made was thinking you could find anyone better than her. Now, I’m sure your girlfriend loves you very much and I think she came out here to enjoy her evening like everyone else and doesn’t want to be kicked out with her boyfriend who’s just been given a black eye.”

“Are you threatening me? You can’t threaten-”

Then Tyler’s voice lowered, making the conversation strictly between himself and your ex. 

“The minute that hat touched her head, it let everyone know who she’s with and considering I know the owners here, them and everyone in this bar will protect her over some scumbag like you. And unless you’d like to spend a night in a cell with the County Sheriff, I suggest you and your girlfriend find some other place to have a drink and you never even think about my girl again. Do I make myself clear?”

One look around the bar to see if anyone else had seen or heard what had gone on let your ex know they had. And from the looks of the patron's faces, they were more than ready to defend both you and Tyler against the asshole standing in front of him. 

“Whatever, Dude.” Walking away, he called out for his girlfriend, grabbed her hand and walked towards the door, constantly looking over his shoulder. Especially after one of the owners followed him out of the door and watched him load himself into his car. 

Once the owner walked back inside and gave a curt nod to Tyler, everyone went back to normal and Tyler turned back around to face you. 

“I’m sorry if-”

“Thank you.”

Tyler was expecting you to tell him off, or yell at him. Say something that made sure he knew never to do that again unless you asked. 

“What-”

“Nobody has ever done that for me before and, if I’m being honest, I was 90% sure he would have done more than just yell at me whilst I was here. So, thank you.”

“I meant what I said. You should never let anyone make you feel less than what you are. You’re beautiful, Y/n. Inside and out.”

You smiled and turned towards one of the beer bottles that had been placed in between you and Tyler in order to hide the blush of your cheeks. “Nice touch, by the way. With the hat.”

There was a slight twinkle in Tyler’s eyes along with his semi-confused and intrigued look. 

“You know about the hat?”

“You explained it to him, didn’t you?”

Then he realised. “Oh, yeah. Yeah. Right.” And nervously took a long swig of his own drink. 

But then you removed it from your head. “You’re gonna want this back.”

And for a moment, Tyler held it in his hand, deliberating on what he wanted to do, vs what he should do. 

He shook his head and handed it back to you. “Keep it. In case he thinks about coming back.”

“I don’t think he will.”

“Well, if he does. He’ll get the message.”

It took you a moment, but keeping your eyes on his, you placed the hat back on your head. Tyler swallowed another gulp of his drink and turned to face you before he fixed the hat on your head. 

“Better?” You asked. 

Tyler nodded as he looked away. He had to hide his blush somehow. “It suits you.”

Then the next song came on. 

“Come on, let's dance.”

Taking Tyler’s hand, you dragged him back to the dancefloor. 

By the end of the night, you all walked back towards the motel considering it was only a block or two away. Down the road, Lily and Boone were giving each other piggy-back rides, Dani was listening to Dexter talk about everything he knew about Tornados and where Tyler would usually be on his own at this point in the night, he found you right next to him, still wearing his hat. 

“Careful.” 

Tyler took your hand in his as he pulled you away from a deep puddle in the path. 

“Thanks.”

When you’d both finally made it to dry concrete, your hand never left Tyler’s. 

“What are you thinking about? You look like you’re in deep conversation with yourself under that hat.”

You broke into a small smile. “I am.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing important,” you shook your head. 

“Try me.”

Looking at Tyler, you took in a breath and looked back at the sidewalk. “Okay. I’m thinking about what to do.”

“About what?”

You stopped in your tracks and looked at where your hand was interlinked with Tyler’s. Then you looked him in his eyes. 

“I know you were just helping me before, with my ex and…everything. But…”

Shit. You cursed yourself over and over again. But you didn’t want to waste any more time in your life. 

Just spit it out. You told yourself. 

“Is..is there a world…maybe…where…” You took in a tough breath. “Where would you want something more?”

“Something more?”

You cursed yourself for a whole other reason now. You’d dug your grave this far. Might as well hope for it to collapse on top of you. 

“Something more between…us?”

The next ten seconds were the longest ten seconds of your life. You were pretty sure you’d died three lifetimes over by the time you felt like you were back in your body again. 

“You know what, forget I said-”

“Yes.”

You felt yourself physically stall. “What?”

“Yes. I want something more. There is a world where I want something more. And it’s this one.”

You didn’t know what to say. The others were long down the street so it was just you and Tyler. 

“I…I don’t know what to say from here. I wasn’t expecting to actually say anything.”

Tyler smiled and stepped a little closer to you. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

“Where do we go from here?”

Tyler thought about it for a moment before looking around. “Come with me.”

Tyler dragged you back down the street, over the puddle and towards a small field just off the side of the road. 

“Tyler, what are you doing?”

“Getting rid of the light pollution.” 

You felt yourself laugh. “What for?”

He pulled you a little further out into the field before the lights faded away over the hedge and all you were left with was the blanket of stars above you and Tyler. And, being back in the comfort of his arms, he danced you around a small patch of wildflowers. 

“Neither of us knew what to do, so I’m taking you on a date. Usually, we would have gone for dinner or I would have brought something with us but since we’ve done that part without knowing where we’d end up…I’m skipping to the end a little.”

“So you’re saying, for our first date, you would have packed a picnic and we would have gone stargazing? That’s…incredibly romantic.”

“Think it’s corny?” Tyler asked and then he laughed. “You think it’s corny.”

Your eyes narrowed a little. “Maybe. Just a little. But, I love it.”

There was no one else. It was just you and Tyler, dancing, under the stars. 

“I do have one question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“Would you have kissed me at the end of the date? Would we have danced under the stars then and would you have kissed me?”

“Now who’s the corny one.”

You blushed a little and laughed. “I’m serious. I’d need to know if you were a good kisser. Couldn’t wear my cowboy’s hat and not enjoy kissing him, too. And before you say anything, I know that might not be the rule. But it does come as a part of mine.”

Tyler felt most if not all of his face turn red at the thought. When you had asked him in the bar…you already knew. He was glad there were no bright street lights surrounding either of you right now. 

“Well, then, since you’re already wearing my hat…I can’t start breaking the rules now…”

With another smile, Tyler’s hand cradled your head as he pressed his lips to yours, letting his free hand hold you flush against him by the waist. 

By the time he pressed a final small kiss to your lips, with his forehead against yours, you felt your lungs scratching your chest to breathe. 

“Yep, definitely didn’t break any rules.”

Tyler let a chuckle leave his chest. “Come on, we should get back. Before the others start wondering where we got to.”

Boone and Lily had had too many beers to be left unsupervised. Last time Tyler had left either of them alone, they’d somehow chalked out an entire Tornado on the side of a motel wall. Even if it was exquisite, the motel owner wasn’t the happiest of people to see it. 

“Okay. But we’re doing this again.”

“What? The date, the kiss or the dancing?”

“All of the above.”

Tyler smiled and reached down, lifting his hat from the ground before placing it back on your head. “Good, because I wasn’t finished.”

With a smile that hurt your cheeks, Tyler took your hand in his and you both hurried your way back down the road, over the puddle and towards the motel where you both found Boone and Lily playing a very terrible version of hide-and-seek. 

But something that neither missed was the way yours and Tyler’s hands were intertwined between you both, or that in the morning and the mornings after, you and Tyler rarely left each other's side. 

And neither of you had to be pushed to share a room. 

It became a routine. Along with the dancing, kissing and storm chasing. 

And when the third teacher hit on him at the elementary school he was talking at, despite you finding it a little funny watching him try and shut down each woman with kindness that left them just wanting him more, he proved his point in front of the faculty and his team (even if they already knew) by giving you the millionth kiss of a lifetime from him, with his hat upon your head. 

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Last Friday Night - n.m

‣ nika muhl x reader!

‣ paige version of this fic

‣ wc: 1953; sorry this is so short and lowkey not that good?

‣‣ synopsis: you and nika have kept your relationship on the dl for a while now, but what happens when your inebriated selves slip up on kk’s live? pretend the ncaa's lift on cannabis for athletes happens before the start of the 23-24 season! (so sorry for the inactivity but I just got back from camp and am ready to feed y'all)

‣‣‣ a/n: so i actually thought of this fic idea when i tried a weed pen for the first time (it's legal in ca) and i passed out with half my clothes on, no fan, forgot to brush my teeth and take my makeup off, and accidentally left a small heater on in my room that ran for four hours and turned my room into a furnace before my mom came in and turned it off and woke me up to yell at me 😊!

8:42 am

To say that you and Nika were in trouble by the events of last night was a little bit of an understatement. Both of your phones were blowing up by your respective coaches, teammates, close friends, and all of your social media accounts.

As you scrolled through your tiktok, text messages, instagram tags, and just about everything else on your phone while laying next to Nika's sleeping figure in her bed, it only reaffirmed one thing in your head.

You and Nika majorly fucked up.

12:07 am; where it all went wrong

With your volleyball season and Nika's basketball season being in their respective peaks during this time of year, you had barely gotten a chance to spend time with your girlfriend alone. The two of you were either travelling for away games, at practice, in class, hanging out with your friends or teammates, or busy studying. Needless to say, you missed Nika. A lot.

Which, combined with the weed pen you were hitting periodically, loosened your inhibitions to a whole new level inside of Ted's fairly crowded bar.

It wasn't jam-packed, but there was a decent crowd of older college students for a Friday night in October, especially since Halloween was soon to be approaching in two weeks.

Normally, you and Nika weren’t big on PDA, at most you would hold hands or give small pecks around the team, considering the fact that the two of you kept your relationship very much on the down low, not so much a secret as very private. You never denied any allegations but basically never posted together on your own, unless the two of you ended up in the background of someone else’s pictures.

Social media had a lot of speculation, edits, rumors, etc, surrounding the two of you, as you had no connection to the team as a volleyball player yet still hung out with them regularly. But either way, you and Nika always just minded your own business and kept everything very hush hush. Except for tonight.

Nika was sort of sober, she had done two shots with some of the other girls while you mostly just smoked a few times, not wanting to get super high, but just enough to let the tingly sense of giggly euphoria wash over you.

Yet one thing you failed to consider when choosing weed over alcohol for tonight was the fact that it made you incredibly horny. That, combined with the fact that you and Nika hadn’t spent any time together in the last three weeks, let alone have sex, were the leading factors of tonight.

The rest of the basketball team was spread throughout the bar, some were at a table not far from the two of you, messing around on KK's live, while others were dancing, drinking, or mingling with their other friends.

Which left you and Nika alone, squished together in the corner of the bar top. You were leaning with your back against the wall, standing in between Nika's spread legs from her position facing you atop the stool. Her hands were holding onto your bare thighs, occasionally removing her left to take a small sip of her drink before dutifully returning to your legs.

"I'm just saying Niks, we could definitely sneak out without anyone noticing, everyone's too busy doing their own thing," you attempted to convince your stubborn girlfriend, sweetening the notion by rubbing your hands up and down her jean-clad thighs.

As D1 athletes, it was obvious that the two of you had toned and muscular bodies, but one of Nika's features you found most attractive were her muscular thighs she built from her time in the gym and on the court, especially the way they would wrap around your head while eating her out.

"We'll leave soon bebo don't worry. Besides," Nika leaned into your ear, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I already promised I would make up the last three weeks to you tonight yeah? What's another hour ljubavi?"

You bit your bottom lip as Nika pulled back, thudding your head on the wall behind you as your eyes trailed over the small smirk Nika held, now using her fingers to draw small circles on your thigh.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy like this Nika," you reached your right hand over to the bar top, desperate to take another hit of your pen to ease the influx of horny thoughts running through your mind.

Before you could bring the vape up to your mouth, Nika grabbed your waist and pulled you into her, and despite her sitting position, you still only had a good two inches over her.

"You're not gonna share bebo?" Her teasing eyes gleamed up at you as she licked her lips in anticipation.

You immediately knew what she meant by that, the two of you doing it all the time whenever you're smoking or vaping together (y'all have seen the watermelon pic of her and let's be frl, they're college students, it's NORMAL).

You smirked at her suggestion, leaning into her before taking a deep inhale of the weed, allowing as much of the smoke to enter your lungs as possible before using your left hand to grab Nika's jaw, pressing your open lips against hers to shotgun the smoke into her mouth.

You didn't even wait to finish exhaling all of the smoke and taking another breath before enveloping Nika's lips into yours hungrily, eagerily gripping her waist with the hand still holding the vape.

You kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as you slipped your tongue into her mouth, the mixture of the rum and coke she was drinking earlier and the earthy taste of weed making your head spin.

You continued to make out for a few minutes, gently pulling away while tugging her bottom lip with your teeth, gazing down at her closed eyes and blissful expression.

"You finally ready to go home Niks?" You teased, licking your swollen lips at her finally needy expression.

"We're getting the fuck out of here, right now," she rushed out, flagging down the bartender to pay off her tab and the second she got her credit card in hand, interlocked her fingers with yours to drag you out of the bar.

Completely unbeknownst to the two of you, KK and her live had been at the table diagonal to you the whole time, and while her body covered the two of you behind her while sitting, the only shield you had quickly disappeared when she stood up, leaning over the table to steal some of Ice's food when it had been set down, completely exposing you to her two thousand viewers, who were no doubt screen-recording.

The camera clearly caught your lips against Nika's blowing smoke into her mouth before leaning in to kiss her, and despite the two of you being on screen for less than a minute, it was enough to cause an internet commotion.

KK's eyes scanned over the comments as she sat back down, blocking your frames as she shoved a few fries in her mouth. Her eyes widened at the sudden influx of comments about you and Nika, leaning in to figure out what was going on.

"I, what? There's no way y'all," she whispered to the table of Paige, Ice, Carol, and Jana. Paige leaned in from KK's right side, trying to figure out what had happened.

Covering the camera slightly, KK, and everyone else, turned around to witness you and Nika's little makeout session ending and the flirty whispers exchanged.

"Unfortunately tonight's live is gonna have to end here girly pops, and if you think you saw something, no you didn't!" KK exclaimed as she quickly turned off the live, the table erupting with laughter at the situation. The whole team had placed bets on how long it would take you and Nika to fumble, and half of them had just lost a hundred dollars at your shennagains.

The walk back to Nika's apartment was brief, filled with flirty touches and short pecks to tide the two of you over until you finally entered home, Nika immediately pushing you up against the front door, moving her lips down your neck and around your collarbones with gentle grazes of her teeth and soothing licks.

"Niks please, stop teasing," you breathed out, grasping Nika's hair tightly from her scalp with your hand, pulling her face up to yours to gaze down at her with a pleading expression.

"Aw, my poor bebo," she cooed, mocking your horny desperation for her, but thankfully Nika wasn't that cruel.

She led you over to her bedroom, slamming her bedroom door behind her as she pulled your shirt over your head, unfastening the bra clipped behind your back all while reconnecting your lips as she laid you down onto the bed.

You moaned into her mouth as her long fingers bunched your skirt up by your waist, rubbing gentle circles on your clit through your panties.

Before you even had the chance to ask for more, she slid the fabric to the side, running her fingers through your slick before inserting two of her fingers, curling them up into you as you let go of her lips to throw your head back, moaning loudly at her ministrations.

"Oh my god Nika, right there baby, fuck," your leg wrapped around her waist tightly as you clenched around her fingers, bucking your hips up to match her movements. Your hands making their way around her neck and back, pressing her body firmly up against yours.

Normally you wouldn't be so close to finishing within a few minutes, but the weed from earlier created a delirious fog that clouded your brain and with the way Nika's fingers were both pressing into your g-spot and rubbing your clit, your orgasm was quickly approaching.

"Fuck I'm so close Niks, please just need a little more," you whimpered into her ear, moving your lips down to nip at the sweet spot under her ear.

Her other hand responded quickly to your begs, twisting and tugging firmly at your nipple as she mindlessly muttered every dirty thought that crossed her mind, knowing how deeply her praises affected you.

"Doing so good for me bebo, always such a good girl. You gonna be my good girl and come for me? Just let go for me ljubavi."

Her words were the final thing to push you over the edge, the tight coil in your stomach snapping as you immediately arched your back into Nika, an endless string of moans and curses falling from your mouth as you let your orgasm wash over you fully.

"God Nika, I don't think I can even feel my legs right now," you giggled in her embrace as she slowly eased her fingers out of you, sucking the remnants of your orgasm off them before wrapping them around your waist, laying you over her as she laid onto her back.

"Hm, fucked you that good huh?" She smirked, using her clean(ish) hand to brush the slightly sweaty strands of hair that had fallen in front of your flushed face.

"I don't know why you're getting so cocky Mühl, haven't even had my turn with you yet," you teased, running your fingers over her stomach, tugging at the remaining fabric on her body.

"Thought you just said you can't even feel your legs bebo?"

"Good thing I don't need them to fuck you then yeah? Don't you think my fingers and mouth will be enough for you Niks," you retorted, shuffling your body down the mattress so you could finally have your way with Nika.

9:13 am

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y/n l/n posted a story

[inkedtae]

xiii. rotten angelcake ⇾ kth. [M]

⎡She’s as sweet as angelcake; he likes her honeyed rotten⎤

chapter thirteen : the mysterious angel of seoul ⤑ ❝ the world is desperate to know who you are, but taehyung is the only voice that matters. ❞

⇽ prev. | masterlist | next ⇾

⌁ pairing; ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; s2l, ceo au, sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, 18+

⌁ word count; 9.9k

⌁ warnings; dom!taehyung, daddy!taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, virgin!reader, daddy kink, praise kink, corruption kink, bdsm themes, orgasm control, dirty talk, dry humping, ab riding, begging, grinding, teasing, neck kisses/licking, a bit of spit play

⌁ 🎧 now playing... ✩

» prefer ao3? keep reading here

ও huge thanks to jen ( @itaeewon ) for the amazing new banner and a very huge, massive thanks to jen ( @anobodyslove ) for beta-reading late into the night for me and being so fucking patient! please send her all the love because she helps me make this so readable and clear for you and she is just over all the best human in the world 💕

Misty cobalt skies blanket the city. Rain falls steadily, blurring the city lights below. You love watching the droplets disrupt puddles and the sea of coloured umbrellas. While most are black or grey, a few pops of yellow, red, blue and pink still bob down the sidewalk. Perhaps your favourite thing about rainy days, however, is how the pavement darkens, glistening under the streetlights. Like how the vibrant green grass of the countryside invokes a reconnection with nature, the vivid black streets of the city draws you into a quiet, almost meditative stillness amid the chaos. 

Flashes– white-hot and blinking. 

You blink, disoriented from the all too bright lights on just a gloomy day. Glancing further down the window, you quietly groan at the growing crowd of reporters. A group of perhaps ten photographers and five journalists huddle near the front entrance, bombarding anyone who walks in or out of the building. Arms crossed, jaw tight, you step away from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the conference room and make your way back to your desk.

You knew you left an impression on the press the night of the ballet performance. The following morning, you woke up with an ache between your legs and a series of reassuring text messages from Taehyung. He said he’d take care of it, but your face, slightly hidden behind your fur coat with loose strands of hair dancing in the wind, was the top story on every media outlet. Glittering makeup, furrowed brows, and annoyed confusion in your gaze– you cannot believe you’re staring at a photo of yourself. You thought they might have edited it, or adjusted the contrast settings to highlight the whiteness of your coat against the darkness in your eyes. But the same picture was posted thousands of times over. 

When Taehyung told you that he couldn’t get the photo removed, you weren’t surprised. It had been circling around the web for the better part of the day and he would have to track down every device in the city to permanently erase it. However, he reassured you that the details of your personal life will remain hidden.

You hoped that would be enough. Eventually, Seoul would grow tired of looking at your face, you remember thinking. They will move on to the next spectacle and you’ll be able to go to work on Monday with little to no trouble.

So, you locked yourself in your apartment and decided to wait for this all to blow over. You made sure to stay off social media, as per Taehyung’s advice. He said it’s not healthy getting lost in threads and posts about yourself, having been a victim of his own curiosity once or twice before.

 Instead, you watched a handful of movies, avoided Mrs Chu’s prying questions about Taehyung and applied to a few jobs. You baked cookies, brownies and a banana loaf. You reorganized your books, did some laundry, and lost a few board games against Mrs Chu…again. You texted Taehyung until he had a business call to hop on and then tried, with all your might, to finally go to bed. However, the curiosity of how much they knew had finally worn you down. You started with a single thread from a reputable news outlet. But soon, you scrolled too far into toxic netizen territory. 

For hours, you skimmed articles and speculations about your identity. Some think you’re an escort, which isn’t entirely inaccurate, but most think you’re some nepo-baby, deeming you too well dressed and poised for any other line of work– a sentiment that still makes your eyes roll. They also point out that The Geraldson Group is known for nepotism hires and so if you are anyone, it must be some rich man’s daughter. 

And while a Daddy did happen to get you an interview, he wasn’t biologically yours. 

This morning, you were sitting in the backseat of the car Taehyung contracted for you. Given your newfound fame, he thought it would be best to have a driver escort you to ensure your safety. While on your way to work,  a series of new photos surfaced. You stiffened in your seat as you clicked on the link Taheyung sent you. He wanted to give you a heads-up about the new pictures and reassure you that he is doing his best to take care of it. 

The photos, seemingly taken from a hidden angle, were from your day off a couple of weeks ago. You were on your way to the Bangtan Building, the same annoyed, distant look in your eyes. There are frames of you getting into the cab, sitting in traffic, and walking into the building with an air of defiance. You suddenly understood why Taehyung had been adamant on disciplining you then. You looked like a total brat.

The media, on the other hand, thinks you’re some sort of notable figure, absolutely in love with your fashion sense and cold demeanor. From recreating your make-up to your style, you start trending online. More than that, the topic of your identity has everyone hooked. People want to know who you are and why Taehyung won’t share you with them. They want to know where you came from, how you met, and if you are the love of his life.

[V] : I think you might be more famous than me.

[angelcake] : are we surprised?

[V] : Careful.

[V] :  Don’t make me come down there and give everyone another reason to talk about us. 

[angelcake] : me**

[V] : Behave or I will tear that little dress off.

You suppress a blush at the memory of the conversation. 

Now, as you walk through the Research and Development floor, you tug at the long sleeves of your tight, ribbed cotton shirt. The high collar covers your neck from the cold and balances out the shortness of your strapless black dress. The smooth fabric clings to your frame, its tailored cut accentuating your curves. You can hear the soft brush of your sheer, black tights between your thick thighs with each high-heeled step down the hall. With your hair up in a high, sleek ponytail, your dangling silver earrings are on full display. Taehyung sent the delicate diamond set, with a matching necklace and bracelet, yesterday to cheer you up after you confessed you’ve fallen down the rabbit hole of googling yourself. You opted for the earrings only today, saving the other pieces of jewellery for another time. 

As you near the common area, where an array of desks are meticulously organised for optimal movement and focus, you begin to attract more stares. Some people smirk, others raise brows and the very few you might consider work-friends, draw heavy breaths as they meet your uncertain gaze.

Jackson leans against your desk, arms crossed, while Ethan stands beside him. They both give you tight smiles. 

“Morning,” Ethan greets, taking a step back so you can walk around them to your desk.

“Good morning,” you reply with a polite smile, though your voice is shaky.

You look between the two, about to ask them what’s going on when you notice the magazine on your desk. There, on the front page of The Metropolitan, is your original viral photo. Your face dominates the entire cover. By the fur of your coat, covering your chin to the better part of your nose, is the title: The Mysterious Angel of Seoul. 

Brows furrowed, you grab the magazine. Taehyung never mentioned anything about magazines, but you feel like you should have known. Your face is all anyone has been able to talk about all weekend. You can't even scroll through social media without someone mentioning you. Rolling up the magazine, you toss it into the trash bin behind your desk and take your seat.

“So–”

“We’re not talking about it.”

You don’t even spare Jackson a look as you log into your computer. You can feel them share a look before Jackson straightens up. 

“It’s not about that,” he says, pausing to take a breath. 

You chance a glance at the pair of them over your dual screens. They're still rigid, shifting their weight and sharing uncomfortable looks. You lean back in your seat to offer them your full attention, waiting for one of them to continue so you can get back to work. 

“We’re actually not allowed to talk about… that,” Ethan clarifies, slightly nodding to the magazine. “Didn’t you get the email?”

Of course you did, and you’re certain it was Taehyung’s doing. But no email has ever stopped anyone from whispering about people before. 

“That’s not the point,” Jackson cuts in before you can reply. “Um… Here’s the– So, the thing– uh…”

Face scrunched in confusion, you let out an exasperated sigh. You don’t have time for this. You have a million and one things to do and the last thing you need is Marina finding yet another reason to make your life miserable. You turn back to your computer and open the documents the marketing team had sent over a few minutes ago. With a few clicks, you send them over to the printer. Standing to gather your clipboard and pen, you turn to find Jackson and Ethan still stammering over their words. 

“Look,” you cut in, “whatever it is, can it please wait until after the meeting?”

“It’s about the meeting,” Jackson tries again. “Lucas–”

“Yeah, where is he? I’m not prepping for this meeting by myself again,” you interject, already making your way to the copy room.

The two men follow behind you, trying to keep up with your fast strides. “He’s not an intern anymore,” Ethan informs. 

You pause mid-step. 

Jackson swallows thickly and Ethan rubs the back of his neck as you turn to face them.

“Did he quit?”

He must have quit. In fact– he better have quit. Because if he hadn’t, if he had been promoted to junior coordinator, you might break your stupid clipboard over his head and tear the conference room apart instead. 

The guilty look on your friends’ faces confirms your suspicions. Ethan is the first to redirect his gaze to the floor. To his credit, he’s just some research assistant and doesn’t have much say in who gets promoted. 

Jackson, however, is your supervisor. He’s well aware of the amount of work you put into every assigned task, no matter how meaningless it seems. He knows you’re the one that constantly picks up Lucas’s slack. You even correct his work. You don’t care much for Lucas’s success, but Marina tends to make his failures your own. So, you come in early to do your workload and half of his. You double check all his reports, emails and documents. You taste all the lattes he makes and often remake them yourself. He can barely pour a glass of water without it splashing all over the counters and floors. Jackson knows this, even witnessing it all himself. He could have stopped this, could have advocated for you. 

He takes a step forward. You take one back, blinking back tears. You’re not upset– not sad, but rather angry. 

Lucas should’ve used his fucking brain. Jackson should’ve used his fucking mouth. And Marina, with her imitating outfits and mocking tasks, should’ve used some fucking common sense. 

“Our evaluation is not for another three months,” you mutter. It’s all you can professionally muster as your anger simmers deep in your chest. You bite back profanities, gritting your teeth to keep from screaming.

Jackson licks his lips. He meets your steel gaze with pity and replies, “I was informed about it this morning. I wanted to let you know before you read it in some email.”

So she’s here.

You look over Jackson’s shoulder to find Marina sitting in her office. You narrow your eyes at the striped black and silver blouse, and black pleated mini-skirt combo. She pairs it with charcoal grey, calf-high socks and velvet black heels. You internally roll your eyes at the replication of your outfit last week. She even has her blonde hair pulled back into a tight clipped bun. Her makeup is a complete copy of yours, from the soft smokiness of your eyes, the rosy highlight of your cheeks, to the pink gloss of your lips. She sits with one leg crossed over the other. Phone pressed to her ear, she stares at her screen.

She’s here, dressed just like you, and she was going to hide behind a fucking email. A good manager would call you into her office and inform you of the promotion herself. She would coach you and explain why the promised evaluation had been bypassed, why you did not receive the position. She would give you the space to ask questions, the resources to try and help you eventually work towards your own promotion. 

However, Marina is as good a leader as she is a lover– bitter, vengeful and completely insecure. 

It seems it is not bad enough that she has been feeding the press your personal information and embarrassing you in front of your colleagues. But now she’s hellbent on undermining you in front of the entire department. You know she wants to humiliate you, just like she did on your first day when she forced the entire floor to applaud you for the attention she thought you were seeking– over the colour of your outfit. 

Her irrational, unprofessional and borderline psychotic behaviour stops now.

Handing the clipboard and pen to Jackson, you push between him and Ethan. They part their lips but you can’t hear anything. You are not interested in their pacifying words. You’ve heard it countless times before– Don’t test her. She’s not worth it. Just keep your head down. You’re tired of the same passive advice. It doesn’t make you feel any better, nor is it working. It doesn’t matter what you do or how you react to her abuse. Nothing will ever be enough for her.

You open the door without knocking.

She glances up at you, green eyes turning cold and uninviting. 

Usually, you’d avert your gaze and yield to her superior position, respecting the hierarchy of your workplace. This time, you hold her glare and lock the door. 

The tightness of her jaw wavers. She sits up in her seat, attempting to appear intimidating.

While she is around your height, she does not have your powerful frame. With narrow shoulders and hips, she barely makes a threatening impression. She lacks shape, not only your fullness. Perhaps, at one point in your life, that detail might have caused you to internally spiral, wondering if it was her smaller figure that drew Taehyung to her. However, you are thankfully not that person anymore. And the last thing you can ever imagine being, is jealous of Marina. 

“Hang up.”

Marina raises a brow. Rolling her eyes, she laughs into her phone. “Yes, of course,” she says before shooing you away with a wave of her hand. 

You reach her desk in two strides. Leaning over the cherry oak desktop, you press down on the switchhook, hanging up the call.

“What do you–” 

“We need to talk.”

Your voice is tempered, but edged with bitterness. You suppress a smirk as she falls silent, her angry resolve wavering. 

“You’re not promoting Lucas.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, Bo-peep,” she spits. Her tone carries resentment, but voice ever so slightly trembles.

Tonguing your cheek, you refuse to be baited by the stupid name and continue, “No one is getting this promotion. You will wait until the evaluation in three months and make your decision based on merit and management recommendation, as per protocol.”

Marina sits back in her seat, crossing her arms. She humorlessly laughs, the sound jagged and irritating– still, it lacks conviction. “Do you think you can just come into my office and order me around? You think because you made it on the cover of one stupid magazine that you’re untouchable? Let me remind you who is in charge here, sweetheart,” she seethes, leaning forward in an attempt to rob you of your space. "You are nothing but some slutty intern who got lucky. Don’t mistake that for power."

You smirk, shaking your head. “Do you think you can just continue to harass me and I won’t do anything about it? Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been up to the last couple of weeks with your meaningless tasks and constant manipulation? Three research assistants needed to reschedule follow-ups with their suppliers because you had me chasing an ex-employee all over the building the other day. And what did Lucas do, beside sit around and wait for me to hold his hand through a fucking photocopy?” 

Marina swallows thickly. The vehemence in her green eyes falters. She shifts back into her seat, suddenly needing some distance.

“It’s one thing to release information about me, but another to completely fail to do your job as a manager out of pure spite. You have other members on this team that need your support and you’re here bitching because of a man. Get your priorities straight, sweetheart.”

She lets out a dry chuckle. “You think I was the one that told them you work here? Everyone knows you’ve been feeding them information yourself. You just love the attenti–”

“I can make one phone call,” you snap, cutting her off, “You’ll be fired within a minute and I’ll take your place within the next.” 

The harshness of your tone silences her, but the possibility of your words rattles the mocking smile off her slim face. In reality, you are certain that one phone call to Taehyung won’t grant you her position, even if she did get fired. You would never attempt such a thing either. While you are bratty, you are not spoiled. You respect Taehyung enough not to put him in that position too. But, Marina doesn’t know that. 

“You are only here because I am allowing it,” you continue. “So, here is what’s going to happen– You are not promoting Lucas, you will wait for the evaluation and you will base your final decision on professional merit. All that petty, personal bullshit ends now.”

Marina scowls but slowly nods. 

You resist the urge to smirk. “Now,” you sigh, “Tell me to sit down.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“Sit down.”

You take a seat, avoiding the stares of the entire department. You’ve felt their curious eyes on you the moment you stepped into her office. “Stand up and point your finger at me.”

Marina does so, still clueless as to what you are trying to do.

“Great. Now, tell me to go home.”

“Are you trying to weasel your way out of work again?” 

Biting on the insides of your cheeks, you fight the urge to snap at her again. Through gritted teeth, you try to discreetly reply, “I am trying to help you save face. Now, get your head out of your ass and tell me to go home for the day.”

She tries and fails to hide the shock on her face. For a second, you think you catch the faintest glimpse of guilt in her eyes. But then she blinks and her usual annoyance overtakes her avian features.

“Go home,” she whispers. “Come back tomorrow with a better attitude.”

Pushing yourself up, you mutter, “You too.” 

You avoid the cautious stares of your colleagues as you exit her office. Their eyes follow you, but you don’t acknowledge them as you head to your desk to gather your things. They whisper, scurrying around you, yet you remain unfazed. It seems your attempts at salvaging her reputation were successful if everyone’s content to talk about you, but not to you.

When the elevator doors on the fifteenth floor close behind you, you text your driver to meet you at the back exit—the same place he dropped you off earlier this morning. For the first time since you were hired, you let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Mr Zhang stands by the black Rolls-Royce Ghost. An older man in his mid fifties, his posture is rigid and dependable. He carries a degree of composure that makes you want to stand straighter and be worthy of his presence. His silvery-blue eyes, the epitome of calm strength, shrink as he smiles at you. Dressed in a crisp black suit, matching long coat and a pair of shiny loafers, he walks towards you with an umbrella to shield you from the rain, even if you are merely three steps away from the car. You let him dote on you, knowing Taehyung must have ordered him to do so.

While he has only been chauffeuring you for a morning, you have learned that Mr Zhang has been driving Taehyung for about seven years. You were surprised to hear this, but as Mr Zhang explained how Taehyung would often spend his time working in the backseat, you assumed his need for a car service was probably required before he built his self-driving car.

 “Thank you,” you say with a smile as he opens the door for you. 

“My pleasure, Miss ____,” he replies with a tender grin of his own. 

You settle into the backseat with a gentle sigh. After buckling yourself up, you take in the interior all over again. You still cannot believe he accented the sleek black leather with gentle notions of pink. From the trimming of the seats, to the door pockets, to the seat belt button, Taehyug has customised the car to reflect your favourite colour. The ceiling is a beautiful replica of a starry night, only instead of silver, rose-white stars twinkle instead. Even the system lights are pink, the same shade EDEN switches to when she talks to you. And if he didn’t outdo himself already, he also made sure to stock the car with your favourite snacks and drinks. Mr Zhang encouraged you to take some with you before helping you out of the car earlier this morning.

“Where would you like to go, Miss___,” he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“Can you please take me to the Bangtan Building?” 

He nods, flashing you a fond smile as he shifts the car into drive. 

One of your favourite things about the car, besides the celestial ceiling, is the fact that all the windows are tinted. You sit back, close your eyes, and allow yourself a moment of peace without the fear of being photographed or talked about, even if it is for a fleeting five minutes. 

When the car slows down, you blink your eyes open. The first thing you notice is the absence of the steady pitter-patter of the rain against the car, the soft beat ceasing as Mr Zhang pulls into a garage. You sit up, looking out the window to find a collection of luxury cars neatly parked in several rows. You recognise two of them: Taehyung’s personal, sleek black car and the black Jeep he used the weekend you went to meet his family.

You wonder if this is possibly the sub-level of the Bangtan Building when Mr Zhang parks the car in front of an elevator. He circles around the back of the car to open your door for you. You tried to open it for yourself this morning when he dropped you off at work and received a gentle scolding. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, accepting his hand as he helps you out. 

Mr Zhang replies with a polite nod. He shuts the door and asks, “Would you like me to wait?”

“Um,” you hesitate, looking at the elevator as if it holds the answer. If Taehyung is free, Mr Zhang has no reason to stay and wait for you. But if not, then it would be best if he hung around for a few minutes, right?

You’re not even sure what you’re doing here. You can’t go back to work, you don’t want to spend another second locked in your apartment and it’s not like you can kill a couple of hours at a cafe or at a bookstore. You’re supposed to be keeping a low profile until this chaos about your identity gets buried by the next news spectacle. 

The Bangtan Building feels like your only opinion.

“How about this,” Mr Zhang suggests, noticing your hesitation. “I will stay for ten minutes. But, if in eleven minutes you change your mind and decide to leave, I am a text message away.”

You let a small smile spread on your pink-glossed lips. Nodding, you thank him again and head towards the elevator. The car door opens and shuts as you look for the buttons only to realise it requires a keycard instead.

Digging through your purse for the pink pass Taehyung gifted you, you wonder if it will work here. It is an all-access authorization card, however this level of the building seems more personal than professional. Twirling the card between your fingers, you wonder if he will be upset that you’re trying to use it to access this elevator.

Maybe I should text him, you think, pulling out your phone by the pink and white charm that dangles from its matching case. You unlock it and stare at his name, wondering what you should even say. You know that if you ask him if he’s busy, he’ll tell you he’s not and demand to know what’s on your mind. He might be able to manage a few minutes away from his work to promptly answer a text. However, you doubt he has enough time to entertain you. 

You sigh heavily, growing tired of the overthinking. You just want to see him, to be in his presence and let his musky, intoxicating cologne soothe your erratic heart. You want to hug him, to be engulfed in his warmth and feel his muscles flex under his clothes as he tightens his grip around you. 

So, without a second thought, you toss your phone back into your purse and scan your card. 

DING!

The elevator chimes, doors opening. 

“Good morning, Angel,” EDEN greets. 

You can’t help but smile at the familiar voice. “EDEN,” you reply through a breathy chuckle as you step in.

“Mr Kim is currently on the fitness and wellness floor. Would you like me to guide you there?”

You smile fondly at the speaker. “Yes please,” you nod before adding, “I’ve really missed you.”

“Should I send you a reminder of my capabilities, or would you prefer a more heartfelt digital hug instead?”

You laugh as the doors shut, the elevator whirling as it moves upwards. If you didn’t know she was created by Taehyung, that comment alone would have given it away.

Tone slightly teasing, you reply, “I suppose I can use a hug?”

“I sense you are mocking me,” EDEN responds. “Mr Kim says you enjoy teasing. As always, he is correct.”

You freeze.

“Taehyung talks about me?”

“Mr Kim often talks about you. He worries about you when you are at work. He says he cannot stand that you are miserable there.”

You know you shouldn’t ask, but your curiosity is louder than your conscience. Biting your lip, you twist your fingers nervously and whisper, “What else does he say about me?”

“He says you’re beautiful, Angel. More than that, though… he believes you’re precious—something to be protected.”

Swallowing thickly, you clench your fists in an attempt to ground yourself. A shaky exhale escapes as you ask, “He said that?”

“You sound confused. Would you like me to relay Mr Kim’s exact words?”

“Yes.” 

“On numerous occasions, Mr Kim stated: Angel is beautiful, EDEN. She’s delicate and thoughtful, even after everything she has been through. She’s strong. She has a nasty attitude, but I like that she doesn’t yield to just anyone. I’ve never met anyone like her.”

Taehyung doesn’t just talk about you, he dwells on you. He didn’t just tell her all this at once, but rather on numerous occasions. He went on and on about you to his AI system, telling her what he liked about you and how you’re one of a kind. There is a certain degree of reverence in his words, even when reiterated through EDEN. It’s as though he is revelling in your existence. 

Your heart pounds so fast in your chest, you can feel the heavy beats in your throat. Gulping, you try to settle your nerves at the new revelation. He really does like you– or at least enjoys your company. All those times you thought you were bothering him, or worried he was obligated to reply based on the origins of your relationship were ignorant and short-sighted. You should have believed him when he told you that you could never annoy him with your messages. 

“Would you like to hear more?” 

“No,” you breathlessly reply.

You’ve invaded his privacy enough. In fact, you should probably try to erase this from EDEN’s history. If he finds out you’ve been snooping, he might not find you so charming and endearing anymore. 

“Is there a way to delete this conversation?”

“Yes.”

You wait, hoping she will give you options. When she doesn’t, you ask, “Can you delete it then?”

“Unfortunately, only Mr Kim is authorised for this action. Would you like me to request his approval?”

Panic surges through you. “No!” you shout, worried that if you take too long to answer, she might ask him anyway. “Can you just not tell him about this conversation?”

“You are not authorised to lock information. However, it sounds like you would like me to omit this conversion from my communications with Mr Kim. Is this correct?”

You raise a brow at her words. Is she… finding you a loophole? 

“Yes, that’s correct,” you confirm.

“Understood. The previous conversation will be omitted from future communications with Mr Kim.” 

Fighting off a smile, you look up and tease,“EDEN, if I could kiss you right now, I would.”

“While I am flattered, Angel, I do value my job.” 

You’re about to ask what she means, when the elevator dings again.

“I’ll leave you to your visit. Let me know if you require further assistance,” EDEN says.

The doors open to reveal an expansive gym. You step out of the elevator after thanking EDEN,  heels softly clicking against polished concrete floors. To your right is a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that offer an impressive view of the city below. It’s not as breathtaking as the view from Taehyung’s office, but still looks beautiful. You imagine the sun flooding the space with light, wondering how peaceful it would be to come up here every morning and stretch under its golden warmth. 

The sound of a distant, deep laugh draws your attention to the main section of the room. You cast your gaze over the row of state-of-the-art equipment–treadmills, ellipticals, and free weights all set up to accommodate any fitness routine– and catch a glimpse of three dark-haired heads by bench-presses. You immediately register one of them as Taehyung, his soft mullet easy to spot even from a distance. 

The little smile playing on your pink glossed lips flatters at the sight of his board bare shoulder. He looks so strong and big. You suddenly miss being in his arms, whether you are being hugged or disciplined, you just want to be held against his strong frame and feel safe.

“So, who is she?” an unfamiliar asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

 “Save your breath, Guk. I already tried.” 

You tiptoe down the pathway, between treadmills and stationary bikes, straining your ears to catch Taehyung’s reply. A pang of guilt engulfs your conscience at your sneaky behaviour. You’ve already extracted more than enough information from EDEN. You don’t need to eavesdrop on his private conversations with his friends either.

But Taehyung is so… reserved. He doesn’t share his thoughts unless you bear your own to him first and you’re tired of the emotional drain of doing so. You just want to hear what he thinks of you, without the pressure of trying to comfort your insecurities or fulfil your desires. And talking about you to his AI is one thing, but talking to his friends….

That must mean something, right? 

“Why are you being so secretive?” Guk presses, despite Taehyung’s silence. “I promise I won’t try to take her from you.”

“One more word, Jungkook, and I’ll make you lift this last set on your own,” Taehyung threatens. 

His friends laugh, loud and giddy. You can imagine Taehyung’s small smile as he tries to maintain an annoyed look, but cannot resist the teasing comradery around him.

“Apparently, she’s precious,” the second voice chimes in again.

“I told you that in confidence.” 

Taehyung’s voice is rough and deep, resonating within your bones even from a distance. You catch the slight notions of betrayal. The twinge of hurt in his tone triggers your guilt. It gnaws at you all over again. You shouldn’t have hidden your presence or attempted to violate more of his privacy. It’s bad enough you didn’t tell him you were coming over but you’ve also overheard more of his private conversations than he’d probably want you to. 

“You saw her, didn’t you?” Jungkook asks.

“For like a second— she was sleeping in the back of the limo. Which reminds me,” the second voice says, a hint of conviction in his tone, “Are you ever going to tell me why I had to fire the driver?” 

“Are we going to work out or continue to ask stupid questions?” Taehyung snaps. 

His tone leaves no room for argument, yet Jungkook manages to find some. “That sounds like a stupid question,” he jokes. 

You bite your lip to keep from laughing along with his friends. Rolling your shoulders back, you try to regain your composure. Perhaps this is a good place in their conversation to subtly announce your presence. Jungkook’s joke has diffused the tension enough to build your confidence and finally silence your conscience. 

With a deep breath, you put one foot before the other and allow the rhythmic click-clack of your heels to echo in the now quieting room.

Taehyung peeks his head down the pathway, brown eyes distant and cold until they meet yours. A soft glow of recognition softens his gaze. Then it darkens, trailing up and down your voluptuous frame, taking in every curve, every roll. You notice his attention lingering around your swaying hips. A small smile tugs on his lips.

His gaze alone is often enough to rattle your senses, sending shivers down your spine. One look, and the world fades–every thought quiets, every doubt diminishes and you’re left with only his name burning on the tip of your tongue. However, when that intense gaze is paired with his bare, toned chest, you cannot breathe. Your steps falter as he makes his way towards you, black basketball shorts sitting low enough to expose the waistband of his briefs. Your eyes slowly fall down from his broad shoulders, to his buff pecs– where that celestial tattoo is inked, then drop to his taut abs.

Heat creeps up your neck and spreads across your cheeks as a wicked thought whispers– what would it be like to grind on them? 

“Hey,” Taehyung greets, smile widening as he nears. 

You blink out of your thoughts as he pulls you into a hug. His usual clean scent, a soothing blend of sage and crisp white tea leaves, is muskier from this sweat. His soft skin feels damp too, but you embrace him tightly all the same, letting his warmth and strength ground you. For the first time since your photo has gone viral, you release a heavy breath.

Sensing the tension in your posture, Taehyung holds you tighter. His fingers brush up and down your spine, relieving the tension from each vertebrate until you are a puddle in his arms. Then, after a few more seconds of peace and security, he slowly untangles himself from you.

Taehyung lowers himself a bit to properly meet your gaze. A teasing smile plays on his lips as he quietly asks, “Playing hooky again, sweetheart?”

The gentle tone of his velvety voice lights your nerves with giddiness. Your body buzzes with desire, and you can’t help giggling–especially when he calls you such intimate terms of endearment.

“Not exactly.”

Hope twinkles in his eyes. He raises a brow, standing back to his full height. “God, Angel, please tell me you quit,” he says. 

You bite your lip, a guilty look settling upon your features. 

Before you can properly explain, Jungkook’s loud voice carries in the empty gym. 

“Is that her?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s hot.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, hearing such a shameless declaration from his friends startling you. While you don’t think you’re unappealing, you wouldn’t necessarily define yourself as ‘hot.’ You’re not sure what you were expecting from his friends but you can confidently say you didn’t anticipate them to be so… open. Taehyung often maintains a tough exterior and doesn’t let it soften for just anyone. His friends, who flash goofy smiles asTaehyung turns to glare at them, seem more comfortable speaking their minds, even when most are better left unsaid.

You look over Taehyung’s shoulder to get a better look at them. You do not recognise the taller one. In a tight, black tank top and shorts, he stands with most of his weight resting on his right side. His toned arms are covered in colourful tattoos. He winks at you, though his long hair slightly obscures his gaze. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes at him, turning your attention to the slightly shorter one. 

He’s a bit thinner, but still just as ripped. Also shirtless, with the word nevermind inked across the right side of his body, he gracefully stands with his weight evenly distributed and hands in his pockets. You recognise his prominent, full lips and soft brown eyes from the ballet you attended a coupe of days ago. His earlier comment about the limousine driver suddenly starts to make sense.

Upon meeting your curious gaze, he offers a sweet smile and nods as a way of greeting. 

“Can you give us a moment?” Taehyung asks. 

The taller one, who you realise is Jungkook based on the sound of his voice, smiles, seemingly complacent before replying, “No.”

Without missing a beat, the shorter one adds, “So, you must be the girl Tae won’t shut up about.”

You raise a brow, feigning your surprise. A smile tugs on the corners of your lips, but you try to fight it off. You can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. He studies your reaction for a moment too long then finally turns back to his friends. 

“Why does he always tell you– Why do you never tell me anything?” Jungkook complains. He furrows his brows and returns Taehyung’s half-hearted glare. “I’m always the last to know.”

“That’s cause I’m his favourite,” the shorter one teases. 

You tilt your head up at Taehyung, whispering, “I thought Wooyoung was your favourite.” 

Within seconds, Taehyung’s glare softens, twinkling with amusement as he looks down at you. His damp hair clings to his forehead, and you’re close enough to watch a droplet of sweat slide down his temple. Without thinking, you reach up, wiping it away with your thumb. He leans into your touch, his throat bobbing. You bite your lip, about to avert your gaze to the floor when he parts his lips to say something. You lean in, eager to hear the vibrations of his deep voice resonate down to your core. 

“You met Wooyoung?”

Jungkook’s voice shatters your fragile bubble of closeness.

Blinking yourself back into reality, you take a small step away from Taehyung and turn to face his friends. “Um–” you start, cutting yourself off when you notice a shift in their demeanour. 

Once foolish, their attitudes become serious, rooted in confusion or perhaps concern. You don’t have much time to decipher it before they share a look and, soon, knowing smiles. 

“It’s not–” Taehyung starts only for Jungkook to fearlessly cut him off.

“You’re his girlfriend,” he states through a chuckle.

You stiffen at his emphasis on the label. “We’re just friends,” you correct, ignoring the sting of that truth all over again. Keen on changing the subject, you step forward with an outstretched hand and introduce yourself.

“Jimin. Jungkook,” Taehyung quickly says, pointing to each one as they shake your hand. “And they were just leaving.” 

“No–”

“Yes.” Taehyung hisses, silencing Jungkook.

His friends share an annoyed look, attention flickering back at you for a moment. Jimin sucks in his cheeks while Jungkook’s tongues his and scratches the back of his neck.

You awkwardly shift your weight, crossing your arms over your chest. Regret twists in your gut and you find yourself wishing you hadn’t come. You should have told him you wanted to see him before showing up here. Instead, you let your fear of rejection overrule your mind. You bite your lip as shame heats your face. He just wanted to hang out with his friends– they were having such a great time before you arrived. And now a blanket of thick tension settles over the room as they try and fail to silently convey their disagreement with not only Taehyung’s decision, but his tone. 

“Fine,” Jungkook finally sighs. As he grabs his water bottle and walks by Taehyung, he adds,“I want details later.”

Jimin pushes Jungkook along, with a chuckle. “Don’t be gross,” he half-heartedly chastises. 

You stifle your own laughter with a bite of your lip, earning an amused look from Taehyung. He pulls you towards his chest as the elevator dings and his friends' voices eventually fade.

Once he is sure they are gone, he dips his head into the crook of your neck and presses soft, wet kisses along your sensitive skin.

“Finally,” he groans against your throat, then drags his tongue up to your jaw.

You lean your head back. A breathless gasp escapes you when he kisses his way back down your neck to graze his teeth against your collarbone. You clutch onto his strong biceps, feeling them flex under your touch. With a quiet moan, you arch your back and push your full chest against his.

Taehyung groans in reply. His hands slide down from your waist to your rear. He grabs handfuls of your cheeks, kneading your supple fat like a stress ball. His nose nestles up into the space between your jaw and ear, then he whispers, “You like it when I touch you like this, don’t you?”

You know you should tell him to stop. You should explain what happened at work, what you have been seeing online and how suffocating it feels to be locked in your apartment all weekend. Instead, all you can manage is an eager nod and a strained whine as he smacks one of your cheeks and nibbles on your earlobe.

Trembling, your knees almost give out. Taehyung holds you tighter to keep you from losing your balance. It seems to pull him out of whatever feral state he was previously in. The tenderness in his eyes is so overwhelming, it stirs a quiet ache deep within you. Fraught and breathless, a fragile moan falls from your pouty lips.

“Trying to spoil me,” he teases, rubbing your back.

Your brows furrow, pout prominent as you peer up at him in confusion. 

His smile widens. Nudging your nose with his own, he asks,“What did I do to deserve your company this morning, Angel?”

Your face is so hot, you’re certain he can feel the heat radiating off your skin. You try to fight off a smile, but he holds you tighter and you can’t deny your heart the satisfaction of giving into him. “Things got complicated at work, but I worked it out and gave myself the day off,” you explain in the steadiest voice you can muster. Running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, you continue, “I didn’t want to go home yet though. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding, princess,” he reassures. “You’re welcome whenever, you know that.”

He has told you that countless times over text, but you always thought he was just being polite. You’re starting to realise that you should’ve known better. Taehyung never says anything he doesn’t mean– especially not for the sake of being polite. 

As his words settle in, your hands instinctively slide up and down his biceps. They’re so big, barely fitting in your grip. The solid strength beneath your fingers draws your attention, and before you can stop yourself, you squeeze. He flexes in response, and you gasp.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You playfully glare up at him. He never misses an opportunity to tease you, deep voice dripping in condescension. The urge to tease him back is strong, and you find yourself having to bite your tongue to keep from spewing your most disrespectful remarks– like how he pushed his friends out as quickly as possible to get a chance to touch you. It would be so easy to rile him up, to trigger his unyielding dominance. Instead, you opt for a tamer response. Or, you at least try to, unable to completely subdue your snarky tone.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” you ask, echoing his words. You squeeze his arms again, cinching a moan in the base of your throat.

Taehyung leans his head back to get a better look at you. His eyes darken, mischief shifting to authority. With a lick of his lips, he adjusts his grip to your hips and holds you steady. 

“I think you like touching me like this.”

“Way to answer the question, genius.”

“Is this you flirting?” he smirks. A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest and resonates deep in your core. 

You press your legs, clenching your jaw as your face flushes. “Do you ever get tired of mocking me?” you ask, slightly raising your voice.

Taehyung tongues his cheek. A hint of quiet challenge flashes in his gaze, but he stifles it, likely giving you a chance to correct your attitude on your own. You swallow thickly and resist the urge to sink into his hold all over again.

“Do you ever get tired of drooling over me?” he questions. 

You’re about to tell him not to flatter himself, surely earning a swift spank but he caresses your chin. Using his thumb, he gently wipes the saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth. He then brings his finger to his mouth, licking it clean.

You gape up at him, lips quivering. 

He fiercely maintains your gaze, holding your chin again, and leans forward. “How come every bit of you always tastes like desperation?” he whispers, feigning curiosity. When you don’t answer, voice shackled in awe and submission, he tightens his grip and hisses, “Do you want daddy’s help?”

“Yes, daddy,” you immediately murmur, nails digging into his muscular biceps. 

“Beg for it,” he orders. “Tell me what you want.”

His voice is so husky and raw, you can’t help the roll of your eyes as it vibrates through your body. Your arousal pools between your thighs, panties clinging to your folds as you squirm and whine. Your attention drifts down to his broad chest, lingering on the intricate tattoo, before settling on his tight abs. Your shaky hands follow the heated trail of your gaze, moving up from his biceps to his shoulders, down his pecs and finally finding their place on his stomach. 

“I–” you start only to cut yourself off. 

Just like when you asked to ride his thigh, your body burns with desire, but you can’t find the words to voice your fantasy. You can see the image so clearly in your mind– he’s lying on his back and you’re straddling his waist. Hands steady on his chest, you drag your wet folds against his abs. But to vocalise it, all needy and weak, feels somewhat embarrassing. Is this normal? Is this something people do– rub themselves against someone’s stomach? 

Taehyung tilts your head by the grip on your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze again. “What do you want?” he asks, gentler this time. 

“I don’t know how–”

“Yes, you do,” he whispers. “Tell me.”

Furrowing your brows, you internally groan. While a part of you is glad he’s not willing to let this go, you’re still worried you might sound stupid. What if he gets turned off by your request, or worse– what if he thinks less of you? 

You part your lips, about to tell him you just want his fingers when you notice the intensity of his gaze. He stares at you with such deep certainty, like you are the only thing grounding him to this moment. Your doubts diminish under their sincerity.

“I want to grind on your abs,” you confess before you can second guess yourself again.

A throaty, rough groan sounds in response. Your knees buckle and Taehyung pulls you closer by the arm wrapped around your waist.

He… likes that? 

“Say please,” he orders.

And now he wants you to beg for it. Your breath hitches and you search his eyes for a hint of mockery or mischief, but only seem to find desire.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, shifting your grip from his waist to his shoulders. Your long, blush pink nails dig into his soft skin as he backpedals towards the bench-press. “Please let me ride your abs. I’ve been trying to be good.” Your voice wavers with desperation, much to his amusement.

“I know you have, princess,” he mutters, pecking the tip of your nose. Slowly detaching himself from you, he nods towards your hips and orders, “Take those off.”

You step out of your heels immediately. Hiking up the tight skirt of your dress, you hook your thumbs in the waistbands of your tights and thong, then tug them down your legs. You quietly gasp at the brush of friction it causes, biting your lip. 

From his place by the weighted bar, Taehyung snaps his attention back at you. He watches your garments roll into each other as he lifts the heavy bar resting over the bench. You pause with your tights off one leg, gawking at the flex of his biceps, the veins that protrude along his forearms. His gaze meets yours and he winks, like he isn’t carrying a massive amount of weight in his hands. 

Your core clenches, clit throbs reminding you of your desire. Swallowing thickly, you hastily return to your task and yank the remainder of your tangled tights off.

Taehyung sets the bar down with practised ease, thumbing his nose with a little sniffle. 

You nervously clutch the hem of your short dress, thick thighs tightly pressed together to relieve the tension between them. 

He smiles at your shy posture, taking a seat on the edge of the bench. “Come here,” he softly beckons with a nod. 

You obey, reaching him in no more than two steps. 

A teasing smile plays on his lips. Stationing his hands on your hips, he maintains your gaze and presses a gentle kiss against the curve of your stomach. “You’re so cute when you’re shy,” he whispers, then kisses your hands on the hem of your dress. 

You tremble under his delicate touch. 

His attention snaps up to your face again and his gaze is a dark abyss of feral desire. Licking his lips, he looks ready to devour you. 

You open your mouth to ask if he’s okay, but he lies back against the bench, gesturing you to mount his waist with a causal wave of two fingers.

You don’t need to be told twice, eagerly straddling him. Needy tears prick your eyes as you press your slick folds against the ridges of his stomach. A strangled whine tears through your throat, and you attempt to steady yourself by pressing your hands against his chest. Your clit is aching for stimulation, but you hesitate to put all your weight on him.

Taehyung gently soothes you with soft shushes, gripping onto your hips. “Take a seat, Angel,” he encourages. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Sit.”

You seat yourself on him without another word. 

His back slightly arches, as if responding to your full weight with a desire for more. 

You tremble at the pressure, sinking your nails into his strong pecs. Your hips start to move on their own, slow and unsure. You assumed it would feel good, your heat, all wet and sticky, gliding against his soft skin. But the lines of his abs, sturdy and tight, add a layer of texture that causes your toes to curl and eyes to roll. 

“Oh, god,” you cry as your thrusts gain some confidence. “D-daddy!”

Taehyung groans beneath you, his stomach rising and falling against your fervent hips. He shifts your dress even higher to watch your pussy move.

“That’s it, baby, just like that…” he whispers, trailing off with a quiet hiss under his breath. 

Your vision blurs with desperation. You’ve never been this needy for him before, your walls clenching, longing for the familiar stretch of his fingers. It’s just the act of claiming his body this way, sitting on such an unconventional part of him, a part you’re sure none of the others have sat on, and using it–using him–to get yourself off. 

And he encourages you to do so, helping you with your thrusts and guiding you towards a faster pace by the rough hold on your hips. His jaw is clenched tight, attention captivated by the slick sounds of your wetness rubbing against him.

“You feel so g-good,” you moan, dragging your nails down his chest. 

“Fuck,” he hisses when you scratch his nipple. 

Your eyes round at the slight tremor in his voice. Hips still grinding steadily under his guidance, you thumb his right nipple and watch him bite his lip. He meets your gaze and you expect to receive a silent warning. Instead, he gazes up at you with… adoration? 

“I can’t take this,” he growls, shoving your hips down to his crotch. 

You’re about to whine, furrowing your brows and nudging his shoulder in protest at the lack of contact, when his clothed cock presses between your folds.

Taehyung sits up and buries his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap around your waist and you cannot sit still another moment longer. Your hips shift forward and back, slow and hesitant. You don’t want to receive a scolding for not asking for permission, but holy fuck you need to do something, anything. 

“Keep going,” he whispers against your jaw. “Faster, Angel.”

It’s all the encouragement you need. Running your hands through his hair, you gently tug at the ends to ground yourself against his hard, throbbing cock. Your legs are already shaking, entire body quaking in his arms as you snap your hips as fast as you can against him. You know you are no match for his speed but the friction stimulates your clit all the same. You can already feel your gut tighten and knot, orgasm building from the impression of his thickness. 

You didn’t come here for this. You didn’t plan to get lost in his touch, or be on the verge of crying for his attention. You just wanted a new place to escape and recharge. You wanted his comfort, sure– but his cock was not the goal. 

So, why the fuck are you salivating at its thickness, at the fact that it barely fits between your folds? Why are you scratching at his back, biting your lip to keep yourself from begging him to let you feel it against you, unclothed and raw? Why are you on the brink of shattering at the mere thought of it?

You promised yourself you’d set more boundaries and you really do have every intention of doing so. But… Taehyung is just so magnetic, so alluring. You cannot stop yourself from craving him. And what were you supposed to do when you walked out of that elevator and saw him shirtless? How could you really expect yourself not to get distracted? 

“You’re doing so good,” he purrs against the shell of your ear, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Quick study, huh?”

You cannot hold back a giggle at his teasing tone. Pride blooms in your chest at his words and you find yourself putting a bit more force into your thrusts in response. “I learned from the best,” you moan. 

Taehyung chuckles darkly in your ear, hot breath sending a wave of shivers right down to your core. Your smile falters and you tighten your core to keep from releasing, a loud moan tearing from your throat. The rippling vibrations of his laughter almost put you over the edge, but you know if you cum now without his permission, you will receive a harsh punishment– the denial of a future orgasm. 

“I need to cum,” you whimper.

“So?”

Your eyes roll from the coldness of his tone, and for a second you think you might just let go, but you hold onto your release even tighter, tensing up in his arms.

Taehyung is relentless. Noticing the hesitance of your hips, he grinds up into you, faster than you have ever been able to move. He’s testing you, pushing you further towards the edge.

“Please,” you cry, tears finally splitting, rushing down your face. “I-I can– Daddy, please! Please!”

“Please what?” he coos, the mocking tone not doing you any favours. 

You part your lips to give him what he wants, to scream for his permission but you cannot hold back any longer. Your orgasm ripples through your shaking body. You throw your head back, almost falling off his lap as you squeal and gush all over his shorts. Eyes rolling, jaw slack, you can feel yourself drooling, but cannot be bothered to care when he’s still thrusting.

While your mind feels foggy, blood rushing to your head and muffling your ears, you still catch his whispered profanities. Suddenly, his hips jut forward with renewed force before tensing. You feel a bout of warmth between your folds as he growls your name.

A shuddering sigh falls from your gloss-smeared lips as you lean forward. You rest your head against his shoulder, limp and exhausted as your pussy still clenches sporadically. You should feel ashamed for abandoning your decision to keep things professional, but all that fills your thoughts is the aftershock of his touch, the overwhelming ache of your body still quivering from the intensity of a delayed orgasm. His name lingers on your tongue and you cannot deny how sweet it tastes. Even as you try to gather yourself, willing some semblance of strength back to your legs, your body betrays you, leaning into his warmth.

You want to apologise for losing control, but the words don’t come, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re too far gone or because deep down, you don’t want to. Because right now, it’s just you and Taehyung, panting and clinging onto each other.

Because right now, you feel whole.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

[nadvs]

Hello! Im the anon who asked for a fic with rivaly at college 😍 OMG! I love what this turned in to. You are an incredible writer!! I hope you know that. You have me hooked. You write dialog amazingly. It feels so real. Never stop writing!!

Can you write something about when she get jealous? Maybe when he is in the NBA?

Hope you have a great day!

Love from Sweden

HIII omg it’s such a good premise!! i remember being in love with it the second i read your ask 🙂‍↕️ thank you so much 💘 i’m so touched that people like the au and want more of it 🥹

based on this fic

» au masterlist

rafe can get wildly, intensely jealous. and while they often joke about how similar they are, that’s one trait she doesn’t share with him. until he gets signed and moves away.

he doesn’t have as much time for texts and calls. he’s training with his new team, working up to the season. she gets it. or at least, she tries to.

she already had unwelcome thoughts swimming in her head when he had been signed to a team states away about him getting lost in the fame and potentially being unfaithful. she never worried about him cheating before. and she hates that she’s doing it now.

but she tries to keep it in. things between them are already tense. accusing him of something just because she’s insecure isn’t fair and will likely just push him away.

then, she visits him. they share their first i love you’s. they’re in a good place.

but when the season starts, that’s another story. it’s surreal seeing her boyfriend play on tv on such a massive scale, thousands of seats surrounding the court filled. she’s so happy for him and whenever the camera focuses on him, she can tell he’s nervous and she loves that she’s the only one in the world who knows it.

but then between periods, she catches glimpses of his team’s cheerleaders before the cuts to commercial. and she can’t lie to herself that these girls are beautiful. and she wonders if maybe he already lived out the college fantasy. maybe now that he’s a professional player, he’ll have his eyes on professional cheerleaders. or really, any girl, because she’s sure he could get any girl he wants.

as the season goes on, because she likes to keep up with the nba on social media, specifically him and his team, her tiktok automatically shows her videos and edits of her boyfriend, some comments from fans about how he’s the next best thing, but most from girls going crazy over how hot he is.

it puts her into a funk. he sees gorgeous cheerleaders at every game. he gets comments on his instagram from beautiful girls. the internet is losing their mind over him. how can she possibly compare?

so, the next night she’s on facetime with him, she can’t hold it back any longer. after they talk about their days, she starts to pick at a string on her shirt, looking down.

“so…” she says. “do you ever get a chance to talk to the cheerleaders?”

rafe looks at her with knitted brows. she’s been off since she picked up the phone, seemingly mad at him. it’s not like them to not be direct.

“baby, what’s wrong?” he asks.

“nothing,” she lies. “just wondering if you ever talk to them. they’re good dancers.”

he hates the way her lips are turned into a frown, her eyes off the screen.

“i only wanna talk to one cheerleader and she’s pretending she’s not mad at me right now,” he says.

this earns a smirk from her.

“they’re all so pretty,” she says. “i’m not blind. and you’re not, either. there’s no way you haven’t noticed them.”

“i moved here to play,” rafe tells her.

“and you know girls online are going crazy for you,” she continues. “don’t act like you haven’t seen all the comments on your instagram.”

rafe studies her image on the screen.

“you know you have nothing to be jealous of, right?” he says. he hates to admit it, but it’s kind of flattering, especially because she isn’t usually the intensely jealous type. it shows him she still wants him.

she sighs. of course he sees right through her. not like she’s being subtle anyway.

“i do, though,” she says. “and maybe it’s stupid to talk about because i’m annoying you and making you feel like i don’t trust-”

“you’re not annoying me,” he interrupts. “you’re being really cute, actually.”

“cute,” she scoffs, her eyes still low.

“look at yourself on your phone,” he says. she rolls her eyes and obliges, gazing at her reflection on the screen.

“now what?” she mumbles.

“if you can’t see how beautiful you are, maybe you are blind,” he says.

“stop,” she laughs softly. “it’s not that i don’t trust you. it’s just that… it has to feel like a waste to be getting all this attention and ignoring it all because of some girl back home, doesn’t it?”

“some girl,” he echoes. “you think you’re just some girl?”

she shrugs. his chest aches.

“you’re my best friend,” he says. “i wouldn’t fuck this up for anything or anyone in the world. you’re it for me.”

her vision blurs with tears. she flattens her lips together and finally nods.

“sorry,” she says weakly.

“for what?”

“for being so jealous.”

“i already told you it’s cute,” he says. she smiles again.

“i love you, okay?” she mumbles.

“i love you, too, okay?” he teases.

they talk for another hour, then she tells him she needs to go to sleep so she’s not totally exhausted for her morning lecture. he has the day off the next day, so he stays up a bit longer on his phone after they hang up.

when she wakes up, she sees hundreds of instagram notifications on her phone. rafe posted a photo of them from the last time she visited, tagging her with the caption: All I need.

before she even gets out of bed, she’s crying. because of how good he is to her. because he’s telling the world he belongs to someone already. because she’s sure that he loves her just as much as she loves him.

[winchesterwild78]

A Shattered Heart pt 2

Master List

Jensen x Reader (girlfriend)

Warnings: Angst, language, longing 

A/N: Apparently I made Jensen too much of an asshole and now I feel terrible. 🫣 So, here is the 2nd part of the story. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. All work is my own and absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. No idea why my head is filled with this story…..it’s brutal. It's gonna get better...I promise. I wrote it fast-like 30 minutes, and didn’t do a great job editing. Please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

The days without Jensen blurred together. After you left that night you drove to a hotel to stay until you could figure out what to do next. You called your mom for advice and just to hear her voice. “Why don’t you come home for a visit. We’d love to see you, and maybe some time away will help the two of you. Honey, I’m not making excuses for him, but he’s got a lot of people depending on him and that kind of pressure can break even the strongest of people.” “I know mama, but he told me to leave. The things he said were just so cruel. I’m the one person he’s supposed to turn to when things get hard, and he pushed me away.” 

Your mom offered you more words of encouragement and by the end of the conversation you had booked a flight home for a few days later. After telling her goodbye you climbed into the bed, looking at your phone hoping for a text from Jensen, but there was nothing. It was almost 6am by this point and you were exhausted. You figured he was asleep or passed out. Laying down and turning your phone on silent, sleep quickly overtook you. 

You woke up early in the afternoon. Stretching you glanced at the clock and saw it was almost 2pm. Your eyes were swollen and your head pounding from all the crying. Stumbling out of bed you made your way to get some water and headache medicine. 

After taking the medicine you decided a hot shower might help too. You grabbed your clothes, toiletries, and jumped in the shower. After a very long, very hot shower, you were starting to feel a little better. 

It had been 3 days at this point since Jensen told you to leave. Three days without his arms around you, without his hot breath on your neck, without his lips on yours and without him saying he loved you. Anytime your phone went off you jumped, thinking it was him, but nothing. It had been 3 days and he hadn’t reached out to you. You tried to keep tabs on him through mutual friends on social media, but you saw nothing. 

Your heart ached for any news on how he was doing. Was he just as heartbroken as you were, just as sad, or was he fine with his decision? You took some time off from work to sort everything out, and to fly home for a few days. You packed up and made sure you had everything from the room. 

Stepping out into the cool air your breath hitched. You had an Uber drive you to the airport. You boarded your plane, turning off your phone, settling into your seat for the flight home. 

*Jensen’s POV*

I woke up with a horrible hangover. The most I remember from last night was the fight with Danneel, drinking a ton of whiskey, and….oh shit! I told Y/N to leave. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs looking for her. Going room to room praying it was a dream and she was still there. Then a small piece of metal caught my eye, her key. I grabbed my phone and tried to call her, it went straight to voicemail. I tried again, still voicemail. “Fuck!”

I called Jared, “Jared I fucked up! I don’t know how to fix this.” Jensen said in a panicked voice. “Whoah, Jens, slow down. What happened?” “I fucked up. Danneel called me last night, I had just gotten home from filming and we got into a huge fight. When I hung up I took it out on Y/N. Shit, man. She was only trying to help me. I said some really fucked up things, then I…” His voice trailed off. “Jens, then you what?” “I told her to leave. I got drunk and told her to leave. She left. I haven’t heard from her and when I try to call her it goes straight to voicemail. Shit man, I love her. What the hell did I do?!” 

Jared took a deep breath, “Give me a second man.” He covered the phone and told Gen what happened, asking her to call you and see if she could get you to come over. She pulled out her phone and the call went straight to voicemail. She shook her head at Jared.

“Jens, do you know where she might be?” Jensen sat in silence for a minute, “No, well, maybe she went home. Like her mother’s house.” “Okay, do you have her mother’s number?” Jared asked. “Yeah, somewhere. I’ll have to find it. Damn I said some horrible things, I know I lost her Jared. I saw how much I broke her before she left and I just fucking sat there. What the fuck is wrong with me?!” “We will figure it out, Jensen. In the meantime you need to figure out why you took all of that out on her. If she decides to come back to you, you have to figure out what triggered you and how to prevent it from happening again.” 

Jensen knew why he did it. He was falling for you faster than he expected, and he got scared. Scared that when all the shit was going on with his ex you were the first person he wanted to turn to for help. When he thought about the future and doing things with his kids he saw you there too. He was in deep, so deep he had thought about what marriage would look like with you. He was terrified if he opened up his heart to you, like really opened his heart, you would break it too. Jensen loved you, but he was afraid of another failed marriage.

He knew it was stupid, but people do stupid things when they are scared. 

For three days Jensen, Jared and Gen tried to get in touch with you. Nobody could reach you. Jensen was due back on set in a few days and he had no idea how he could go. Jensen searched everywhere for your mom’s number but couldn’t find it. As the days continued to pass without any word from you, Jensen fell deeper into despair. 

You sat in your seat on the plane, earbuds in and trying to clear your head. You scrolled through your phone, looking at the pictures of you and Jensen. Thousands of pictures of stolen glances, soft kisses, and laughter. There were pictures of Jensen and his children, candid shots of Jensen you thought he didn’t know you took, but he did. He had several of you too. 

Your heart ached for him, but his cruelty played over and over in your head. Frustrated, you tossed your phone in your bag and closed your eyes. 

A few hours later you were standing inside the airport waiting for your luggage. Your phone started pinging with notifications once you turned airplane mode off. You shoved it in your pocket as you grabbed your suitcase and walked towards the front. 

You ordered an Uber to drive you to your parent’s house. Looking at your phone you noticed you had a ton of text messages and an Instagram notification. Climbing into the Uber you sat back and checked your messages.

Gen: Hey sweetie. Jensen told us what happened. I just wanted to check on you. Reach out when you can. We’re worried about you. 

Jared: Hey shortstack. Gen and I are here for you. He’s a fool. Please let us know you’re okay. 

Then you saw Jensen’s name. You swallowed hard, checking the messages.

Jensen: Sweetheart I’m so sorry. Please let me know you’re okay.

Jensen: Baby I fucked up. Please call me or text me. I’m worried about you. 

Jensen: I know you’re angry and hurt. I don’t blame you. Baby, please let me know you’re okay. Nobody has heard from you.

Jensen: I love you

Jensen: Y/N you didn’t deserve what I said and you didn’t deserve me taking all this out on you. I love you, baby. I know I hurt you and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please just let me know you’re okay. 

Your breath hitched as you read his messages. He hurt you, broke your heart, but you couldn’t help but feel the need to reach out to him. You stared at your messages trying to figure out what to do. So you decided to send Gen a text first.

You: Hey Gen. I’m okay. I had to get away for a bit. He broke my heart, told me to leave so I did. I can’t be with someone who pushes me away like that. I love him, but I deserve better than that.

Gen: Oh, Y/N. I am so glad you’re okay. I know sweetie. He called Jared. We understand and support you. Just know he regrets what he did. The past three days he’s been trying to find you and reach out to you. For what it’s worth he does love you, he’s just scared.

You: I’m scared too, Gen. I fell for him fast and then he tossed me to the side. I have to come to terms with not being good enough for him, not being what he needed. I don’t know if or when I’ll reach out to him, but please let him know I’m okay. I should be back in Texas in about a week. I know he has to go back to set, so please let him know I’ll have Jared go by the house with me to get the rest of my stuff. 

Gen: Oh sweetie, you are good enough for him. He knows what he’s lost. I will tell him you’re okay. When you get back we will figure out your stuff. We love you.

You: Thank you, and I love you guys too.

Sitting your phone down you looked out the car window and saw your parent’s neighborhood come into view. You took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. When the car pulled into your parent’s driveway you saw your mom at the door. Her bright smile is a welcome sight. 

Getting out of the car, you grabbed your bags and walked towards your mom. Her arms outstretched to pull you into a hug. 

Her arms around you felt like home. You felt safe and loved. The weight of the pain came crashing down again and you sobbed into your mother’s arms. “Shh, it’s okay baby. Let it out. I know, baby.” She whispered into your head as she held you. 

As you pulled away, the tears still falling, you let out a shaky breath. “Mama, I still love him. It just hurts so bad. I don’t know how or if I can fix this.” 

“Let’s get you inside baby. We will figure it out.” She wrapped her arms around you and walked you inside. Your dad was standing in the living room and when you saw him he pulled you into a hug. “Hey baby girl. It’s good to have you home.” His strong steady voice washes over you. You loved your mom but you were a daddy’s girl. He was the first man to ever hold your heart and he had always been protective of you. 

When he found out you were dating Jensen he told him he better not hurt you. Jensen promised him he wouldn’t. “Daddy, I don't know what to do. I still love him so much.” “I know you do, baby. Give it a few days and the two of you should talk. You don’t let him treat you that way. If you go back you tell him he can’t do this to you. You deserve better than that. However, there isn’t ever a perfect relationship. You two have to work at it every single day if you want it to last.” Your dad pulled you tighter. “I know daddy. Thank you.” He kissed the top of your head as you pulled away. 

You went to your old bedroom and put your things down. You sat on the bed and pulled out your phone. That’s when you remembered the Instagram post you were tagged in.

Opening Instagram your breath hitched. It was a post from Jensen. It was a picture of the two of you. One you didn’t know he had taken. The two of you were on the couch, snuggled and you had fallen asleep on his chest and he was smiling softly at the camera. It was a sweet picture of both of you. 

His caption took your breath away. “My love, my beautiful girl, my home. I’m a fool to let you slip away. I’ll spend the rest of my life, until my last breath trying to make this right. I love you @yourusername. Forever and always. 

Tears were streaming down your face. Jensen was usually very private so him making this post about the two of you was incredible. You didn’t know what to say. 

You read through the comments and saw so many supportive comments and some calling Jensen out for whatever he did. You chuckled a little, but your heart ached for him. 

You decided to like the post. Just a little olive branch to let him know you still cared, still loved him. Even if he was being an asshole. 

Jensen’s POV

I was sitting at Gen and Jared’s house. Gen told me she’d heard from Y/N. I wish she’d call me, I miss her voice. The two of them were trying to encourage me but until I was able to talk to her nothing mattered. I needed to tell her how sorry I was. Even if it was too late for us, I needed to make this right. I hated that I made her feel like she wasn’t good enough. 

Jared handed me a beer and as Gen got up to check on the kids she squeezed my arm. “It’s going to be okay, Jens. She loves you so much. It’s just going to take some time.” 

I nodded and smiled softly. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I glanced at it. It was Instagram. I opened it and saw Y/N had liked my post about us. I gasped. Tears filling my eyes. “Jared, she saw my post. She liked it.” Jared smiled “That’s great Jens. It’s a start.” 

“Do you think I should text her?” Jared and Gen looked at each other, “I think you should wait for her to reach out. You’ve let her know you’re ready to talk, so let her make the decision.” 

I nodded and hesitantly put my phone down. 

Your POV

You showed your mom the Instagram post and asked her opinion. “It seems like there is still a lot of love there, Y/N. I can’t tell you what to do, but if it was me I’d give him a chance to explain and you get a chance to let him know how you feel. If you’re in love with him and he’s in love with you, then you owe it to yourselves to give it another chance.” 

You nodded and smiled at her. “Thanks mama. I can always count on you to help me.” 

She hugged you and gave you a soft kiss on your forehead. 

You bit your lip and pulled out your phone. Taking a deep breath you opened messages. 

You: Hey 

Jensen: Hey baby 

You: Are you busy?

Jensen: No, never too busy for you. 

You: Can I call you to talk? 

Jensen: I’d love that baby. 

You swallowed hard and stepped outside on the porch. Your hand trembling you dialed his number. 

Jensen answered almost immediately, “Hey baby. I’m so glad you called.” 

Your voice was soft and shaky, “Hey, Jens. We have a lot to talk about. 

“Yeah I know we do. It’s so good to hear your voice baby. I’ve missed it, I’ve missed you.” 

A tear slipped out from your eyes. “I’ve missed you too, Jens. I have to know why. Why did you make me leave?” 

“Baby I’m stupid. There isn’t a good enough excuse or reason for the way I treated you. I’m an asshole. I need you to know I'm so sorry for what I said and did. If I’m being honest I’m scared, Y/N. I had one failed marriage that ended really bad. I was afraid it was going to happen again.” 

“But Jensen, we aren’t married. Why would you think you’d have another failed marriage?” “Because I’m in love with you, Y/N. It scares me how quickly I fell in love with you, when I see you I see a marriage, I see our lives together forever, I see home.” 

You gasped softly, “Jensen I loved you too, so much. I saw a future with you too, but I didn’t toss you to the side. I deserved better than that. I deserve someone who is my partner, who will turn to me when things get tough, not against me. I deserve someone who doesn’t make me feel like I’m not good enough. Dammit Jensen, I would have married you if you had asked.”

Jensen ran his hands through his hair and sighed heavily, “I know baby. I’m so sorry. Me being scared is not an excuse for the way I treated you. Please come home so I can fix this. I’ll head home right now and meet you there.”

“Jensen, I’m not in Texas. I left. You told me to leave, so I did. Besides you have to be back on set tomorrow so I’m sure you’re leaving soon to catch your flight. It was scheduled for 6pm.”

Jensen’s voice cracked as he tried to hold back his emotions, “I didn’t mean it baby. I didn’t want you to leave. Fuck! Where are you baby?” “Jens, it doesn’t matter. You’re expected on set tomorrow, you have all those people depending on you and I know you don’t want to let them down. Maybe when you get home in a month I’ll come by and we can talk.”

You didn’t want to tell him you were at your parents’ house because you knew he’d be there in a heartbeat. 

“Baby I don’t want to wait a month. I want to work on us now. We deserve that, you deserve that. I’ve already called the producers and we’ve pushed back filming. You are more important than any show.”

“Jensen, I can’t ask you to do that. I know how important your career is to you. Please don’t throw it away over me. I’m not worth that. You’ve worked too hard to get to where you are. Please Jensen.” 

“Sweetheart, nothing, you hear me, nothing is more important to me than you and my kids. I love you and I’m willing to fight for us. Please tell me where you are and I’ll come to you.”

“I need some time, Jensen. You hurt me deeply. I should be back in Texas by the end of the week, we will talk in person then if you still want to.” 

Jensen felt a little pang of sadness. He didn’t want to wait to talk to you face to face. He wanted to hold you in his arms and kiss you again. However, he knew this was his fault. All of this was his doing, so he wanted to let you lead. 

“Okay, baby. I understand. When you get back in town, let me know and I can meet you somewhere. I love you, Y/N, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“I know you do, Jensen and thank you. I’ll let you know.” “Y/N, before you hang up, can we still text or chat? We can keep it neutral and I promise I won’t pressure you.” “Sure, Jensen, and Jensen, for what it’s worth, I still love you.” 

Tears fell from his eyes and his heart clenched in his chest. Now he was determined more than ever to make this right. “I love you too, baby. I’ll talk to you soon, goodbye, darlin’.” “Good bye, Jensen.”

You hung up and the tears fell. Holding the phone to your chest. Your mom watched from the kitchen window and saw the love you still had for him. Her heart ached for you, so she was determined to give you a little push.

She walked into her office and pulled out her phone and called Jensen.

“Hello?” He answered with a questionable tone. “Hey, Jensen. It’s Y/M/N.” “Oh hello, Mrs. Y/L/N. How are you?” “Jensen dear, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Y/M/N?” “Yes, ma’am. I’m sure by now you know I screwed everything up. I want to tell you and Mr. Y/L/N I’m doing everything I can to make it right. I love your daughter so much.”

“I know you do, honey. She loves you too. That’s why I called. She’s here and lord knows she has a stubborn streak. I bet she told you she’d talk to you at the end of the week when she gets back, didn’t she?” Jensen chuckled, “Yes, ma’am she did.” “That sounds like our girl, well how about you fly in for a visit? It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, and I think this is something best dealt with in person.” 

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll book the first flight out. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.” “Okay dear, and Jensen…” “Yes, ma’am?” “You fight like hell to keep her, we really like you.” Your mom chuckled. “I plan to. Thank you Y/M/N, for believing in our relationship and helping me make this right.” 

The next morning you woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. You stretched and smiled. You and Jensen had talked off and on all night, both of you finally saying good night about 1am. The conversation was light and almost flirty, like when you two first started talking to each other. It made your heart flutter. You were still in love with him, but you were still hurt too. 

Getting out of bed you decided to take a quick shower before heading downstairs. Once showered and dressed you walked down the stairs and could smell the breakfast and coffee your mom had made. When you walked into the kitchen you saw a ton of food. 

“Dang mom, I don’t eat that much. Surely you didn’t do all this for me?” She laughed, “No honey, your dad is going to eat breakfast with us before he heads out.” You smiled and grabbed a coffee cup and filled it up. Your mom handed you a plate and smiled widely at you and nodded towards the food. 

“Thank you mama. I’m starving.” You chuckled as you shoved a piece of bacon in your mouth. As you sat down to start eating you heard the doorbell. Your parents and you shared a look. It was almost 9am, so you weren’t sure who would be over there so early. “I’ll get it.” You said. Standing up and walking towards the door you noticed your parents acting strange. 

You looked over your shoulder at them and chuckled as you opened the door. When you turned back towards the door you saw who had rang the bell. Your breath hitched and a lump formed in your throat. You could barely speak, but managed to whisper out, “Jensen.”

“Hey sweetheart.”

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[aziraphales-library]

Hi! Thank you so much for all the work you put into this archive. I've spent so many hours reading fics lately and enjoying every second thanks to you all!

I wonder if you have any recs for human!au fics where Crowley and Azi meet either online, as penpals or some other way that's anonymous, but maybe they don't know each other in real life or they don't know the other is their online friend/penpal. I really like the build-up towards meeting each other and things like that! I hope it's not too confusing. Any suggestions with those themes would be wonderful ❤️

We have loads of fics along these lines on our #social media tag, a specific pen pals post here, and you'll find similar kinds of fics our our #mistaken identity tag. I've got a bunch now, but I'm sure these'll all be on the tags mentioned, because there are only so many (unfortunately; I too love this trope!)...

Texts from an Unknown Number by GaryOldman (T)

The human wrong number AU I have been craving. Trapped at a boring Halloween party, Aziraphale tries to get in touch with Gabriel but his text ends up in the wrong place.

Press L in the Chat (for Love) by Phoenix_Soar (E)

Bickering fan-content creators Aziraphale and Crowley only have three things in common — they are both avid fans of a new revolutionary TV series about pirates, they are popular for their fantastic fanfiction and fanart… and they are members of the same discord server. Neither of them likes the other, but across the chaotic virtual world of a discord chatroom, who knows what can happen when these two unlikely fans are paired up for an exciting collaboration? Us. We know ;) Discord Server AU — a collaboration between Phoenix_Soar (fic) and Djapchan (multivoice podfic organization & editing) for Pod-Together 2022

A Tricky Situation (Entirely of his own making) by sixbynine (E)

"Crowley stood up and went to leave, he turned back just as he opened the door and took a deep breath. “You know I was quite excited to come here and work with you. I enjoyed reading your work. I disagree with a lot of it, but your writing style is lovely and every so often you’d let that privileged rich white boy mask drop and it was fantastic. I was hoping to meet that Professor Fell, but I’m beginning to think maybe he doesn’t exist and I’m going to be stuck with a rude stuck up arsehole for the next five years.” He slammed the door behind him before Aziraphale could respond. Aziraphale gaped, open mouthed, at the shut door." -- Aziraphale is teaching at Kings College London. He's been teaching at King College London for a long time now thank you very much and he does not take kindly to new Professors being sprung on him suddenly. Especially when this one has quite publically made his opinon of Aziraphale's work known. Luckily Aziraphale has an understanding penpal...

Readings From the Books of Ashtoreth by Quefish (E)

Vicar Aziraphale Bookman has a comfortable life. He lives in and serves the small village community of Tadfield. He enjoys contributing to local businesses, taking walks, and of course reading. His 'guilty pleasure', which gives him no guilt and all pleasure, is a series of novels by one AJ Ashtoreth. But what happens when he reaches out with an innocent bit of fanmail?

The Anon Before Christmas by foolishlovers (E)

When Crowley’s friend, blogging buddy and business partner Anathema announces her annual Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, she is very adamant Crowley should join this year. The old-fashioned (but admittedly compassionate) man he gets assigned to send anonymous messages to every day until Christmas sounds awfully similar to the fussy bookseller that his friends adore, yet Crowley tries to avoid at all costs. But surely his friends would have mentioned if Aziraphale had taken an interest in the Bad Omens fandom as well… right? Or: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Santa Tumblr AU.

I Knew I Loved You by AppleSeeds (E)

In September 1999, when his family gets connected to the internet, prospective Marine Biology student Crowley discovers an online forum where he can actually talk to people who share his passion for saving the whales. He begins corresponding with a kind stranger he knows only as Ocean_Angel, and is incredibly excited when the opportunity arises to meet this mysterious person in real life. As their friendship develops, Crowley shares things with Angel that he can't talk about with anyone else, and Angel's insights help him to explore and embrace his own identity. As Crowley works towards finding a place in this world where he feels like he really belongs, he realises that a big part of the answer to that question might actually be right in front of him. What if where he belongs is with Angel?

Big Name Feelings by ghostrat (E)

FANDOM AU! • Crowley is a BNF fic writer, and Aziraphale is a lurking artist who might be just a little parasocially in love with him. How they ever became friends is beyond him, but here they are: One month out from Prophet Con, and Crowley is asking him to be his boyfriend. Just for the weekend, of course.

- Mod D

[vhstown]

time out (part 1)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)

PART 2 → / THE AU

"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"

Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.

The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.

Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.

CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered

IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered

You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.

why arent my texts sending Not delivered

miles??? Not delivered

Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.

"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?

Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.

It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.

There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.

Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?

You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…

Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.

"Hello?"

"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.

"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."

"Oh… Do you know where they went?"

"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"

"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.

"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"

"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.

"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…

"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."

"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.

"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.

"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)

Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."

There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.

"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."

"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.

"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.

"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."

“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)

“Sí, tía.”

The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…

But why weren't your texts going through?

miles are you ok? Not delivered

im really proud of you Not delivered

i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered

It wasn’t like there was much point, but…

i love you Not delivered

Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.

Hey man

Out of town

LMK if miles breaks in

You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.

sure Read at 11:24PM

are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM

Ping!

Yeah

@ Queens

Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?

You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.

The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.

THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!

"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.

Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.

The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...

It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.

It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.

And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.

“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”

“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”

“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”

“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”

The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—

"Miles!"

The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?

The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.

You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—

"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"

The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.

Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.

Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.

"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.

"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.

"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."

Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn’t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.

"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.

“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"

"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"

"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.

“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”

If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”

You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”

“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.

“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”

“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”

His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?

“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?

“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.

“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.

“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?

“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.

The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.

“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.

“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”

The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.

“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.

“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.

“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”

“You a doctor now?”

“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”

Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.

“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.

“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.

Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…

“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.

“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.

“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.

“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”

“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.

“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.

“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”

The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.

Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.

Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.

“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.

He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”

“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”

“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.

“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.

The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”

All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.

🕸️🔭👾

thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again

this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au

reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)

catch my atsv masterlist here !

[copperbadge]

Well, Still Salty.

I was cranky yesterday and I thought a good night's sleep would provide some adjustment in perspective, but unfortunately "spending yesterday not on tumblr" also offered perspective and got there first.

Up front: feel free to comment or reblog on this post (replies may be heavily delayed) but if you feel the urge to Like, I'm going to ask you to take one more step and go to https://www.tumblr.com/support, select "feedback" as the category, and enter a line or two about the new dash. It can be as simple as "Your new dash design is difficult to use and is driving people off the site". I'm not asking everyone to do it, but if you're going to Like this post, that would be a helpful action in addition. You can delete any response they send; no reason to expose yourself to the unique combination of incompetence and condescension with which they handle feedback generally.

Also up front: yeah, if I find somewhere else to go and go there, I will certainly let you guys know beforehand, I'm not going to just evaporate. I'll be broadcasting about Tumblr's replacement on Tumblr very heavily. But I can't deny that it is now an active goal of mine to find a viable replacement for this site. (More on this in a moment.) You will always be able to find me on AO3 as copperbadge, or via copperbadge@gmail.com. (More on this in a moment also.)

This kind of thing is why I refuse to fuck with staff now or ever; I don't trust them and I never will. Watching @wip respond to almost every complaint or suggestion with "but that would be really hard" is telling. Whoever is pushing blocks around at Tumblr wants a lucrative site that's easy to code, but lucrative is hostile to community and code is difficult by nature, and when the architecture of the meeting hall is hostile and cheap, people don't stick around.

I've been watching the site as every change made it incrementally worse, from a buggy post window that doesn't allow ease of editing to the new dash (which is the reason I'm writing this in a text window off Tumblr). I genuinely do not think I can use desktop Tumblr like this unless I can install something that will put it back the way it was, and roughly 40% of the content you guys get HAS to come through desktop. It's impossible to do on a phone or so time-consuming it's not worth it. I cannot code Radio Free Monday on a phone; it's a struggle to code it on a single-monitor laptop (I usually write it on my work computer, where I have two monitors). Even writing image IDs on the phone is difficult and something I rarely do. Tumblr is becoming an actively difficult place for me to make content, introducing friction left and right.

But where does one go? I've tried other platforms and they're either worse to use or they don't have the constituency. The problem with a lot of discourse around internet addiction is that it often points out how glued people are to their phones without asking what it is they're doing on those phones. I'm not addicted to social media; I don't doomscroll, I don't care what celebrities have to say, I don't find 140 characters useful or interesting, I don’t find most “funny” videos very interesting. I create a lot of original content for public consumption, significantly more than many social media users, and if that becomes difficult, then the site suffers more than I do. But it's undeniable that social media, and this social media in specific, is where my people are, and yeah, I like seeing you all every day. It makes it difficult to leave even when Tumblr is the best of a bad set of options.

It seems like a lot of the internet, lately, is the best of a bad set of options.

All that said, Tumblr forced a sudden, unwanted, and unchangeable reskin on me a day after I listened to a two-hour podcast about addiction while working on building a newsletter system for my author site. I spent the evening before this happened in contemplation of my relationship to social media and to my readership and how I might alter it to my benefit regardless of whether that's also to Tumblr's detriment. Their poor timing, I suppose. A lot of the theories advanced on the podcast were, to put it kindly, bunk, but one of the suggestions for people questioning their relationship to an activity was a dopamine fast -- removing something in your life that gives you quick but unsustained dopamine hits, so that you can take some time to level out and examine your behaviors. On the one hand, that's not at all how dopamine works; from the jump it's a bad theory. But on the other, pulling back from something you think may be causing you difficulty is generally speaking a good tactic.

Removing myself from Tumblr yesterday was an active process: because I have ADHD and often will forget something exists if I don't systematize my engagement with it, Tumblr is normally pinned to my browser, with the app on my phone's top screen. Removing the app and closing the window meant that while I occasionally reached for Tumblr, it was less frequently than I expected, and the lack of access reminded me why I wasn't there. I missed you guys, but I didn't miss getting distracted from work by my dash, or the pressure to respond to the volume of communication I receive through the site daily. I don't think my use of tumblr as my sole social media has been unhealthy, per se, but certainly yesterday felt both quieter and calmer after I walked away.

But that's a temporary relief, because you are my community, and not only do I not want to leave my community, it's a resource for me. One of the reasons I do things like Radio Free Monday and the weekly Hug on Saturdays is that I try to make sure that resource is reciprocal. Leadership involves service. Leaving would be easy in the short term, but in the long term, leaving my community without having another place to meet it, or another community to go to, would be harmful to both of us. I'm already someone who isolates, and while I have a strong brickspace circle of friends, they fulfill sometimes different needs.

Though I do appreciate the wild vote of confidence from the comments to my last post telling me people would come with me where I went. That means a lot to me. I will attempt to make it either unnecessary or as painless as possible. Just know, I see your faith and friendship and I appreciate it.

Sometimes at my old job I'd be in very tumultuous meetings where a lot was discussed and not much agreed on, and the most useful thing to me was always to say, "What are our next steps? What would you like me to do because of this meeting?" So what are next steps, all this being the case?

First, I'm going to be off Tumblr, mostly, for another couple of days, because clearly I need the break and a few days won't matter too much. Again, I will be back either to continue on the site or to let you guys know, at length and volume, where I'm headed. The former is much more likely.

Second, I'm going to be actively looking for both a widget I can install to reset the dash (recommendations welcome, I currently don't even use xkit) and a wholly new platform that's a realistically viable alternative. Even if the dash gets reset, the shitty post editor is here for good. Attempts to source alternative platforms in the past have taught me that it needs to have a mobile-friendly site or an app, a similar structure to tumblr, and a reasonable chance of actually attracting users. That's a heavy venn diagram unlikely to be fulfilled anytime soon, but I'm now invested in finding it, instead of just passively waiting for it to happen to me (as Tumblr did when it pulled me off LJ).

Third, I do have an email newsletter in the works! I'm just wrestling currently with setting up how people sign up for it. This wasn't meant to be "my main broadcast platform"; it's meant to be a once-monthly email to share book news, targeted at people who aren't on socials or who just really love content from me, I guess. :D The plan was for me to assure Tumblr users that it was not extra content, just select content repackaged into a digest. But it will be one way to ensure that if I'm moving around outside of Tumblr, you'll know about it. I hope to have a link to a signup page soon. (I'm....dealing with some code issues.)

Fourth, I'm going to be combing through the last ten years I've spent here and pulling anything I think is of value into an archive. For now everything will remain here as well, and I'll let you guys know if I think that's going to change, but it's clear that this space is moving only one direction, towards a place I can't exist, and when/if it crumbles I want to have already evacuated what's important.

So there you go. I'll possibly be posting sporadically (the Saturday Hugs are queued six months in advance so that'll happen) but if nothing else and if not sooner, I'll be back full-time next week starting with Radio Free Monday. I appreciate your patience and your kindness in the meantime!

[lazleylazarus]

A bunch of my monster high redesigns💀💀💀!! mostly g1-inspired

pt. 1

there were so many things I wanted to write about them but I couldn’t (im still working on it, text and pics may be edited later, there may also be mistypes)

FRANKIE!!!⚡️

even though frankie is basically the result of her father’s experiment, she doesn’t like being referred as an object and tries living her life as a normal ghoul. frankie was made to be a perfect humanoid student. though she actually isn’t perfect and constantly struggles with social adaptation issues and some of her studies (such as swimming and other disciplines that require contact with liquids), frankie also sometimes confronts other students who demonstrate their disrespect to her for being “too good” and beloved by many teachers so that she wouldn’t give others a chance to shine bright (even though that’s not 100% true). oh, and for being “just a rag doll”. however, that doesn’t stop fran from being herself. she eventually learned to ignore the bullies and even managed to become friends with a bunch of meanies thanks to her lack of social adaptation evolving into pure ghoul simplicity and kindness. as well as that, frankie sometimes shows signs of overprotection not realizing that it potentially may cause problems or may be simply annoying. loves stem subjects, handicraft, helping others sincerely and obscure media no one talks about

note: frankie herself rarely uses they/them pronouns, they’re mostly used in reports of frankenstein and his wife and official documents. frankie is ok with it unless she’s referred as “it”. that’s just how she feels

DRACULAURA!!!🦇

a little bat crybaby aristocrat who sometimes faces disrespect from others for being a human-born vampire. it’s not like a sin or something, just teens being assholes to each other. she’s mostly seen with frankie and clawdeen or clawd wolf, drac’s boyfriend. draculaura becomes very anxious when she’s not with her friends. she and clawdeen founded a club for “hermit” or “rejected” monsters (they haven’t decided on the name yet) but they were the only permanent members until they met frankie who not only became a part of the club herself but also helped to bring new monsters and even friends, which is quite ironic. draculaura is a vegetarian and her current eating habits presumably developed from the illness which almost killed her before turning into a vampire. well, more like they were caused not by the illness itself but by the cause of this disease. kinda theatre kid. loves romantic stuff, gothic lolita fashion, sweets and writing her own novels which she rarely shows to others

note: later I remembered vampires don’t tolerate crosses but I really love it how they turned out so maybe there would be unholy unconsecrated crosses which do not affect them?? they’re not demonic, they just can be used as accessories by vampires. yeah that’s it. im yet to figure it all out

CLAWDEEN!!!🌖

a sassy werewolf who appreciates fashion, art and also designs her own clothes. clawdeen is a fashionista who dreams of becoming a popular model and designer. but she’s not a typical high school hyperfeminine diva girl, she really loves sports and she may act like a tomboy. clawdeen’s biggest flaw that makes her different from other werewolves is her inability to fully transform into a wolf at her age which is seen as some kind of rare disability. clawdeen doesn’t like talking about it and rarely hangs out with other werewolves except her siblings. as an extremely loyal ghoul, she also seems to have some traumatic experience in romance. that may explain why she tends to avoid romantic interactions and looks seemingly anxious when she witnesses them or when someone flirts with her. clawdeen is secretly envy for some of her friends and elder brother being happy in relationships but she can’t do anything about it. who knows, maybe she’ll find her happiness one someday. loves fashion, art, grunge music and true crime documentaries

[remuswriting]

MASTERLIST

All links will take you to the Tumblr version of the story. Majority of these have been uploaded to AO3 and have been edited.

This is all of my Haikyuu!! works in alphabetical order by character's last name and fic titles.

If you’re unsure of where to start, here’s my portfolio aka a masterlist of my favorites.

Haikyuu!!

Social Media Posts

karasuno tweets (1) (2)

random texts; msby black jackal (1) (2)

random texts; multi (1) (2) (3)

random tweets; multi (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Akaashi Keiji

the night sky

love letter | confessions | 288 words

Akaashi writes a love letter he may or may not send one day.

Bokuto Kotaro

deserve

love letter | light angst | 365 words

Bokuto tries to write a love letter.

Hanamaki Takahiro

scary movies (and you)

fluff | getting together | 857 words

Hanamaki and Y/N decorate Y/N's apartment for Halloween.

Hinata Shoyo

halloween decorations

getting together | break-up | angst

Y/N hates fall and Hinata tries to change that.

kisses

established relationship | fluff | 630 words

Sometimes Y/N and Hinata had moments of quiet, where their limbs were tangled together as Hinata’s head rested on the other’s chest. These were moments Y/N cherished.

secret relationship

getting together | fluff | headcanons

Hinata and his boyfriend attempt to keep their relationship a secret.

the sun

magical realism | 590 words

Hinata meets the moon.

Iwaizumi Hajime

day off

established relationship | fluff | 433 words

Y/N loved when his and Hajime’s schedules lined up.

painting pumpkins

university | fluff | Texan! Reader | 1,271 words

Y/N shows Iwaizumi something he does with his family for Halloween.

take your time (i'll be here)

university | fluff | time skip | 1,892 words

It’s dead-week, and Y/N wishes Hajime would change his major.

Kageyama Tobio

resentment

twin au | angst | 7,193 words

Kageyama believes Y/N, his twin brother, is the complete opposite of him, which means they have to hate each other.  The only thing is that Y/N didn’t get the memo.

Kozume Kenma

cut the cameras

poly relationship | getting together | wip

It’s Y/N’s final year of university when his advisor nominates him to submit a short film for the Tokyo Film Festival for a final grade. Cue the lights, the cameras, making more friends than he expected to, and having realizations that flip his entire world upside down.

off topic

love letter | confession | 726 words

Kenma confesses with a love letter.

Kuroo Tetsurou

my heart likes you

social media | childhood friends to lovers

Kuroo is the last to learn he likes his childhood best friend.

i want to promise you eternity

epistolary | friends to lovers | 1,846 words

Kuroo finds a letter you never meant for him to read.

Miya Atsumu

a kiss from the sun

post time skip | making out | 326 words

"Don't be shy. Let me hear you."

birthday post

social media au

what he posts on your birthday

congratulations

angst | getting together | 1,539 words

Atsumu drags Y/N to a party only for Y/N to end up being ditched when a hot guy shows up.

meet me in the pouring rain

friends to lovers | 1,950 words

Y/N decides to walk home, even though it's pouring. Atsumu and his truck save the day.

online friend

pre-relationship | fluff | angst | 2,150 words

Create a Twitter thread about Naruto and volleyball, and Miya Atsumu is now your best friend.

ridiculous

pure angst | 2,344 words

According to Y/N, everything is ridiculous.

to know every side of you

social media | best friend's brother | slow burn

After a failed Tinder hookup, Atsumu learns that Sakusa has a hot older brother who is now completely uninterested in him. However, that doesn’t stop Atsumu from trying to become part of Y/N’s life.

trust

hmc au | first meetings | 1,438 words

Y/N meets a beautiful man on his way to visit his sister.

Miya Osamu

and how the stars shine

camp counselor | fluff | 3,581 words

When Sugawara has to retire from being a camp counselor after getting a teaching position, Y/N meets his new co-counselor Miya Osamu.

depends, who's asking

pre-relationship | meet-cute | 1,002 words

As far as first meetings go, fighting over udon noodles is not one you thought you'd ever have.

Miya Triplet

the narrative

triplet au | angst | character study | wip

Everyone has a different perception of who Miya Y/N is.  Y/N doesn’t know which is the right one.

MSBY Black Jackal

reading thirst tweets

time skip | sexual comments | 2,247 words

Atsumu, Bokuto, Hinata, and Sakusa are invited to Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets, and they recognize a certain user. (plus the aftermath)

Nishinoya Yuu

typos

established relationship | humor | 246 words

It’s an easy mistake—typing swear instead of sweat. However, they have two different meanings.

is your heart taken

social media | friends to lovers | getting together

Nishinoya wants a s/o but he’s too oblivious to see what's literally in front of him.

Ojiro Aran

a crime called emotion

angst | soulmate au | hanahaki | 1,083 words

Something you learned long ago about soulmates and unrequited love was that they had their punishments.

let me hold you close

fluff | post time skip | 724 words

Aran comes back from his morning run to find you still asleep.

Oikawa Tooru

cut the cameras

poly relationship | getting together | wip

It’s Y/N’s final year of university when his advisor nominates him to submit a short film for the Tokyo Film Festival for a final grade. Cue the lights, the cameras, making more friends than he expected to, and having realizations that flip his entire world upside down.

interviews

meet-ugly | getting together | 5,043 words

Oikawa leaves a terrible first impression on Y/N, Seijoh’s newspaper editor, when the volleyball team gets to be featured in the paper.

koi ponds

first meetings | fluff | 1,082 words

Oikawa meets a boy at the koi pond in the park.

more significant than gravity

angst | established relationship | 4,817 words

Thunderstorms used to be your biggest fear. Now it's the feeling you have when someone else wants Tooru.

the warmth of the world

manga spoilers | fluff | 424 words

No longer is Tooru the young boy who destroys himself in order to be perfect, but he still has his relapses. However, you can always bring him back.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

where the wind takes me

platonic | fluff | 1,890 words

Sakusa sees L/N out buying White Day gifts.

Sawamura Daichi

you keep me close

ftm reader | fluff | 1,242 words

The only time Y/N gets during his shift to take off his binder is his lunch. It goes similarly every day when waiting for it to come around.

Sugawara Koushi

hold me tight

male oc | slow burn | angst | wip

Sato Kai is a manager for Karasuno boys’ VBC and no one can get a read on him, even though he can read all of them.

changes

male oc | angst | 6,291 words

Sato was dangerous on the court. Sugawara wished he wasn't.

nsfw alphabet

sexual content | headcanons| 971 words

NSFW Alphabet for Sugawara.

show me

post-time skip | fluff | 351 words

L/N confesses for Sugawara.

Tsukishima Kei

cruel

angst | unrequited love | 423 words

Tsukishima thinks Y/N is cruel. Y/N is unaware.

dinosaur cookie jar

major character death | medical inaccuracies | 397 words

The list of instructions sat on the kitchen counter, next to the dinosaur cookie jar L/N had bought him on their third anniversary.

first words

hanahaki disease | soulmate au | 18,572 words

In a world where the first words your soulmate say to you are on your wrist, Y/N manages to get “hello.”

goodbyes

post time skip | angst | 1,353 words

Tsukishima realizes he never really had Y/N to begin with.

home

manga spoilers | fluff | 1,029 words

Tsukishima loves you, but doesn’t know how to say it.

study partners

university | platonic relationships | 454 words

Tsukishima and L/N study together.

Ukai Keishin

next to you

high school | getting together | 4,571 words

Keishin Ukai wants to play with Y/N L/N no matter how hard he has to work for it.

an ocean away

angst | pining | 7,261 words

Y/N knew he had terrible ideas, but he hoped coming back to Japan after 10 years to see Karasuno at nationals and confess to his high school boyfriend that he’s still in love with him wouldn’t be one of them.

remember that night

outside pov | established relationship | 1,018 words

Ukai isn’t the one behind the counter at the shop and it confuses everyone.

Yamaguchi Tadashi

starter

love letter | angst | 476 words

Yamaguchi writes a love letter he’ll never send.

my heart looks after you

ftm reader | platonic relationships | 791 words

Yamaguchi loans Y/N some clothes.

a sight for sore eyes

angst | miscommunication | 6,093 words

Y/N craves for the normalcy he never actually had. It affects everything he touches.

[astroyongie]

Stray Kids March Reading Edition

Note: Take the reading with a grain of salt and please enjoy ! 

Bangchan

Love: As always his love life is a complete mess. It feels like Bangchan became quite close with his friends with benefits person, and he even tried to confess to them to try and something serious however the person rejected in an attempt to keep the relationship non oficial. His ego was kinda hurt but at the same time he also lied about some things concerning himself and the life the person will have to go by if this became official

Career: Not his best time at the moment, Chan feels stuck with everything that he has to do and produce for her the company. He also feels like there’s poor justice concerning the treatment they receive and the little rest they get

Health:

Physical: Needs to protect himself more when it comes to sexual activities. Other than that, his hair, skin and nails are fragile, lack of iron in his blood. Back and spleen pains can occur

Emotional: He thinks a lot about his family

Minho

Love: Minho’s reading was HUGE. I got so many cards it was insane and there’s a lot happening. It’s with joy that I announce that Minho is currently dating! Although it’s recent and he is still not sure about the whole thing, he is giving it a try. He kinda has a lot of feelings for this person however he also knows what everything he has for, the other person is still not ready to give it to him. Also they are currently separated due to Minho being away, and that distance is actually something he enjoys because that way he has more time to put some order inside his head

Career:  Things are going well, the boy is managing so well his money, he knows how to invest it and how to get himself secure. Minho has been spending time with his members and helping them with what they need. He is also working a little bit too much

Health:

Physical: Too much happening here, headaches, stomach aches and urinary problems are at peak. He feels tired and his body feels old and heavy

Emotional: Minho doens’t sleep a lot lately, he has been dealing with a lot of stress and anxiety due to his career status

Changbin

Love: At the moment, Changbin is single and keeping people as friends. However I see here two persons that have got his attention (for now there isn’t any romantic feelings, but he is attached). First it’s someone that work with them, so definitely a staff and the other person is someone he has been texting and talking mostly though apps/social media. For now he is trying to find balance and also I see that his family urges him o find someone and be happy

Career:  A little bit shaky as always, I see him having big arguments with someone around his members/staff. Changbin has been writing songs and he keeps the productivity high but he doesn’t like that fact that his music needs to feel and sound a certain way

Health:

Physical: Needs to be careful with what he eats, some digestive troubles here

Emotional: Changbin is also having a hard time mentally. A lot of blame and poor self esteem;

Hyunjin

Love: I honestly feel so much pity for Hyunjin in a huge level.. because as always he is still stuck and completely in love with this person, to a point where he knows he is affectively dependent of them and he is aware that this love will never work out. And yet he hopes. It’s so bad, that the devil card came into the middle, really showing the toxicity and the hurt this love gives him and yet he doesn’t let go

Career: He isn’t on his best career moment either. Hyunjin is very tired and he feels all the work he does isn’t enough for people and that everyone wants more than what he is capable of providing. However he doesn’t give up and he is trying new things to develop as an Artist  

Health:

Physical: His physical health is very poor, his heart and blood pressure should be checked by a professional, but also his spine that seems to have been causing troubles for him

Emotional: He has a lot of dark thoughts in which needs to be looked for, because he kinda of wants to give up everything and leave sometimes

Jisung

Love: Jisung is still single too however I see that he was able to get close to someone and he had hopes that the person would open their hearts to him, however it didn’t worked out. He doesn’t mind a lot but he feels like he isn’t worth of being loved in a way

Career:  Well he definitely isn’t on a good period (since the news came out I suppose it’s due to his health). Jisung will need to work back into it but if he also gives himself some time he will be heal quicker. He needs to be careful with that one staff that doesn’t want him any good and talks behind his backs

Health:

Physical:  well he is sick as everyone knows. In my spread the sickness really is physical and it came with the sagittarius card so the areas that are affected are: Liver, sacrum, lumbar area, vertebrae, hips and thighs

Emotional: He is actually okay and stronger

Felix

Love: The way I want to facepalm to him too. Felix is on a complicated moment of his love life, because a lot of his actions have consequences and he never thought it would be this much. His karma is currently hitting him full face. He is stuck in that half half relationship with someone he doesn’t want something serious with and at the same time he knows if he lets go of that, this relationship will be lost forever. In another hand he also talks with someone else for quite some time now (started 5 months ago) that has been very present on his life. So he kinda stuck in two relationships that aren’t official and yet both of these people are waiting for him to say yes

Career:  He had a huge argument with someone (either from skz or the staff) although I feel more feminine energy here. It impacted him a lot and he felt hurt by that fight. Other than that, Felix has faith that his career is going well and he is making benefits and being energized by his fans

Health:

Physical: The boy is sick, like physically sick as well. His neck, ears, throat, thyroid and nose feel sore and funny, some of these areas must hurt him as well. But also his ankles, his legs, calves and his circulation are very bad

Emotional: Felix is having a hard time mentally, his mental health is very poor at the moment. Doubts and fears but also he is suffering from strong anxiety. He needs to listen more to himself and less others.

Seungmin

Love: Seungmin is still in a relationship with his partner and everything is going well. However he is a little bit paranoid and he thinks that his partner has cheated on him, that they don’t love him or aren’t being sincere with him. This is a lie and it’s just because Seungmin doesn’t trust himself enough and he projects a lot on his partner. So things are shaky and the couple needs to work through this

Career:  Well, definitely there’s something out of balance here too, and his career is kinda on a hold at the moment. Also I feel like he lost money from being sick, but he is fighting things and he wants to keep his idol routine without much change

Health:

Physical: Well sick obviously too. The areas I got where: all the Chets area, stomach and womb, insulin levels, bladder, liver and lower back

Emotional: He is extremely emotional at the moment, I feel like he cries a lot by himself and he isn’t open about his feelings with others, not even with members. He feels lonely in this world and mentally exhausted

Jeongin

Love: He isn’t in a relationship, but the person he is close with and him developed a physical relationship and slowly it’s getting very serious between them. However Jeongin wants to go slowly because he also doesn’t want to get stuck for now. I see positive changes for them around august. This person is a friend of Jeongin

Career:  Complicated moment for Jeongin, because I feel like he lost a big opportunity for some collab/solo work that his company didn’t allow him to do. Other than that he is receiving help from his members (probably Minho) to get better at what he does

Health:

Physical: Just a lot of headaches

Emotional: He is also in a complicated phase, very emotional and sometimes he just wants to rest and to pause everything.

[we-are-swearwolves]

Leo’s Plant Corner

Finn/Leo/Logan: plants and domesticity and social media mishaps (G)

Inspired by me finding new leaves on a fiddle leaf I thought was dead 😌🪴 characters belong to @lumosinlove 💘

It was an understandable mistake, really.

Alex was grounded in the Atlanta airport, texting everyone he fucking knew for hours as he tried to get on a flight back to New York.

Finn had been sending him videos all afternoon. Multiple snapchats with some version of the phrase ‘sucks to suck 💞’, Leo’s straight faced reactions to an awful selection of puns, himself dancing like a lunatic to a new Taylor Swift song (“I finally understand Lo’s secret obsession now, ok I get it, Peanut Butter.”).

Hell, he’d even gone so far as to scroll through the videos he kept on his phone and edit together a compilation of Lo saying ‘Tabarnak’ in various contexts and inflections.

So, you see it was reasonable for Logan to think that Finn was filming a video for Alex.

When Leo had first moved north, he’d had a hard time not seeing the stars, not feeling the heat, and being away from his parents, which were all things that couldn’t be fixed, though goddamnit did Finn and his thermostat try.

One thing Finn could fix though, was the greenery.

Central Gryff wasn’t exactly known for its lush landscape, and once Leo realized that one of the things he was missing was all the green, Finn had gone what might be called ‘apeshit’ at a nearby nursery.

A lot of their plants died on the regular, seeing as they were gone so fucking much, but the majority of them did make it and both Finn and Leo were very proud.

Heartthrob status or no, Finn didn’t go live on Instagram very often, but for a brief period of time at the start of Leo’s rookie season, there were short plant tours and updates every other week or so, mostly to make Leo laugh.

They hadn’t done it in forever, although he got comments requesting “new episodes of Leo’s plant corner? 🥺” semi-regularly.

This particular morning, however, there was such a significant plant development (and Finn had his goddamn phone out anyway) that they thought fuck it.

The number of people who must have had notifications turned on for Finn’s lives must being truly fucking ridiculous for how many viewers they immediately had.

Finn put on a truly ridiculous wrestling announcer voice and began the same way he always had, “Welcome, to Leo Knut’s plant corner!!! Bauw bauw-bauw bauwwww!”

Literally thousands of hearts showed on his screen.

“Alright listen, what y’all have to understand is that I thought this fiddle leaf was over, ok?” Leo’s accent was coming out just a little stronger than usual and it was so fucking cute, “He’s been strugglin’ since we got him, what was that, Harz, almost two years ago? Anyway, no growth at all, dropping leaves all the time, lookin’ kind of pathetic—“

Finn tried to keep the phone steady even though he was quietly losing his shit laughing.

“—shuddup Harzy, it was sad!” And then he looked back to the camera, “Finn was sad for him y’all, I swear. Ok so anyway this morningggg,” Leo stepped to the side and gestured proudly to said pathetic plant, “I come out here, and this lil guy had not one, not two, not three, but FOUR new baby leaves up top!”

Finn zoomed for emphasis, saying, “Baby leaves,” with what he hoped was enough awe to satisfy Leo.

“Baby leaves! I said what I said! Look at them! They’re so small and they’re new.”

Thousands more virtual hearts, which Finn thought was understandable.

“Baby leaves though?”

Leo liked making Finn laugh just as much as Finn liked making Leo laugh so he pushed on, ridiculous on purpose, hand gestures big and expressive.

“Yes, these are baby leaves, ok? Look at them! I’m so proud of this goddamn plant, I thought he was a goner and here he is with children,” (Finn was laughing so fucking hard now) “For fucks sake, Harzy, this man is a father!”

Finn couldn’t contain the sounds any longer and neither could Leo as they both broke character and just giggled and giggled and giggled.

It was probably for the best that neither of them were paying attention to the thirsty comments the IG viewers were leaving, that they didn’t see just how many people were at that moment offering to make them fathers.

“Merde, what the fuck?”

The sound of their laughter had woken Logan up from where he’d been lightly snoozing just a room away.

Finn threw out a, “Now with special guest… Logannnn Tremblaaay!” To which he got an eyebrow raise that he somehow understood to be in French.

Leo quickly caught Logan up on their new leaf children, Lo’s expression getting softer with each word.

See, it had been so long since Finn and Leo’s last plant show and what with Finn sending Alex videos all day, it really was understandable that Lo would speak freely even knowing he was being recorded.

“Mon dieu, Peanut, if this is the reaction for baby plants, I cannot imagine how you guys will be when we have our family, I mean fuck.”

Finn and Leo both froze.

“What?”

Both their mouths dropped open.

“What? It’s not like we haven’t talked about— Baby, why are you looking at me like that?”

Finn looked dazed and used his free hand to point to his phone somewhat ridiculously.

“Video,” was the only word he could get out though.

“Yeah, no shit, you’ve been sending Alex videos all day.”

Finn stared.

Leo stared.

Logan didn’t know it at the time, but thousands of people at home watching on their phones also stared.

“It’s…” Logan’s eyes got a little bigger then, alarm beginning to work its way into his face, “…it’s for Alex. Right? Finn,” Lo was serious now, “Finn… you’re recording a video for Alex.”

Later, upon reflection, there were a lot of things Logan would wish had gone differently that day (it wasn’t how he imagined they’d come out).

One specific thing, however, was the fact that the fucking face he made when Finn finally managed to say, “Nope,” as Leo said, “Sweetheart, oh my god,” would become a meme that would haunt him for years.

He was a little bit right though, Alex did love that video.

[wallaceyouslut]

Summary:

Todd’s been chasing after Wallace. They meet at an afterparty - situations ensue.

Edit: Since the original seems to have been deleted I'll send a link to a saved version if anyone wants, just DM.

POSESSIVE YET TENDER TODD AAAHAHAHJDJDKSKFNDN

It's nice to see fics where Todd takes initiative yet is still so clearly desperate uwu

Wallace giving into him...we love to see it

Fic:

Wallace pushes through the busy crowd, frowning when some guy almost spills his booze onto his shirt. It’s one of his vintage Ralph Lauren sweaters, and it’d piss him off to no end if it got stained.

He feels a hand grab his wrist at some point, but he’s too tipsy to care. He only gets startled when the hand actually starts pulling him towards its direction.

“What the hell?” Wallace frowns, shooting his head up to see who it was. It’s dark, and the only source of light is a stupid disco ball on the ceiling that doesn’t help him at all.

Somebody pulls him to the corner of the room, now trapping his body between the rest of the crowd and the wall. When Wallace looks up, he immediately lets out a groan.

"Is that how you’re gonna greet me, huh?”

Todd frowns above him, a shadow casted across his face as he’s turned his back against the light.

He’s the very thing Wallace has been trying to avoid for months - he’d blocked his email address, phone number, social media accounts, everything. Yet he’s breathing, glaring down at him angrily, holding his wrist tight all while being in front of him right then and there.

“Todd, seriously,” Wallace frowns now, trying to pry his wrist away from Todd’s grip. He doesn’t seem to have any intentions in letting go, like he finally has him there after trying so, so hard.

“Seriously what? Why have you been ignoring me?” Todd doesn’t look away, not even once. He’s staring straight down into Wallace’s eyes.

“…look, I’ve been busy. I was looking for new apartments to move into. Scott’s also thinking about moving out, so.” Wallace holds the back of his neck with his free hand, feeling nervous now.

“That’s some bullshit. You could’ve checked your texts.” He grips his wrist tighter now, tilting his head slightly as his gaze remains firm on Wallace.

“What’s your problem? Don’t you get the idea - I’m not interested in you.” Wallace frowns as he tries to push Todd away. He doesn’t budge.

“Come on, Wallace,” His voice sounds a little wrecked now, even desperate, evident within their proximity. “I know how I made you feel.”

Wallace swallows thickly. He really doesn’t want to do this right now, but the way Todd’s eyebrows knit makes his chest tighten a little. Todd lowers his head a little to Wallace’s ear, his voice low but audible amidst the noise of the crowd—

“I can do it all over again. For you.”

Wallace feels a small shock of electricity travel up his spine. He sighs softly as the air remaining inside him leaves his lungs. He feels Todd’s lips against the shell of his ear now, kissing chastely and biting at the lobe.

Wallace will yell at himself for this in the future, but that’s a problem for his later self. He grabs Todd’s hand and pulls him to the men’s restroom behind them.

Todd is the first one to reach for a stall, unlocking the door while picking Wallace up with his other free arm. Wallace cups his jaw with both of his hands, gasping when his back bumps against the (now closed) bathroom door behind him. He lets out a breathless sigh, moaning softly as Todd squeezes his hips.

Wallace bites his lip nervously as he watches Todd undo the fly of his jeans, pulling his waistband down and hastily reaching for his cock. The girth of it sobers Wallace up, makes his mouth water a little bit.

Todd pumps it a few times in his hand, gazing at Wallace through half lidded eyes as he does. Wallace loops his arms around Todd’s neck and kisses him again - eagerly clinging onto him. He can feel Todd’s hands squeezing his ass, and he moans in anticipation.

Todd is the first to pull away. He turns Wallace around and bends him down, practically yanking his jeans down to his thighs as he aligns the head of his cock with Wallace’s ass.

With no preparation? - He wants to ask, but Todd’s out of it, unfocused from everything else except Wallace. He pushes in slowly, and it burns, but Wallace can’t make up the words for it. He’s gasping and moaning underneath, his hands propped up against the bathroom door as he arches his back to take Todd’s cock better. They both let out an airy moan when Todd is fully inside, with Wallace feeling full and stretched out. Todd pulls out, then slams back in, leaving no room for Wallace to gain composure.

“Tell me whose cock this is,” He says with a particularly hard roll of his hips as Wallace lets out a strained shout.

“G-god,” Wallace places his palms on the surface of the door, the stall rattling in rhythm with Todd’s thrusts. “Yours, yours, f-fuhhhh,”

Wallace dips his head and shouts as his cock twitches - he comes, white stripes dripping down the red bathroom door. He gasps heavily when Todd doesn’t stop.

“Does that feel good? Tell me how it feels.” Todd growls into the shell of Wallace’s ear, as Wallace shakes his head and lets out a loud moan.

“Feels s-so good. So good,” He can barely register the sound of his voice and Todd’s grunts beside his ear as he shouts again, unprepared for the second orgasm building up inside him again.

“Wallace,” Todd kisses the back of his neck, licking up in wide swaths. He whispers into his ear, breathlessly. “I can be so good for you, we could do this every day. Every hour. If you let me.”

Wallace presses his forehead against the stall door, unable to make out proper words nor any sentences. He just moans when Todd keeps hitting that spot, until they both get unwinded and Todd spills himself inside of Wallace.

There’s about a minute of silence, their heavy breathing the only thing that’s audible except the muffled music. Wallace is surprisingly the first one to turn around and latch himself onto Todd, kissing chastely at his lips. He’s tired, fuck this, so he just clings onto whichever part of him he could hold onto.

/

Wallace wakes up at his apartment the next day, on the bed. He sits up straight on the sheets, eyeing at his phone. He reaches for it after a minute of consideration, and unblocks Todd Ingram from his contacts.

‘Maybe I should text him.’ He thinks.

[tryslora]

Do you have any suggestions for making book covers without having to pay someone?

If you know since you're pretty much the only writer person I follow

(sorry I'm nervous to ask out of anon 😅)

No worries, don't be nervous, anon! Totally cool question.

I will say that I tried making my own covers originally, and uhhhh I have standards I couldn't reach, so I failed at that and went the paid route (and OMG the artists I have found are AMAZING, I just have to say that the fandom community ROCKS).

First things first, start by looking at covers of books in the same genre that appeal to you. Look at what you like about them, and what's consistent about them. Are they clipart type graphics? Are they simplistic? Is it photorealistic? Are there images at all other than scrolls and flowers?

What are the placements and sizes for the title and author name? Usually the author name is smaller than the title unless it's a super famous author who gets to be more important than the title.

Also, if you put a subtitle or series on the cover, and you plan to sell the book, this information MUST be listed in the records for selling (like your ISBN). KDP has been known to bounce books for not matching up.

Anyway. Some things I know people have used.

Canva (you can get a 30-day trial of the paid version, if you need to). They have templates, graphics, all kinds of things available. Check licensing!

Actually, pause here for a sidebar, because that's a huge theme for all answers--always check what licensing is available for any graphics/art/font you're including. Depending on how you're using your cover, you may need a different license. If it's for personal use, you only need basic personal use licensing. But if it's for sale (paperback or ebook) it requires to be allowable to be used commercially.

Anyway, back to Canva. I know some indie authors who swear by it and put together really simple text and graphic covers.

I've collected a small group of links I use when I do need something quick, or I need a graphic for use online. Some of them I haven't played with fully myself, so for all of them, look carefully at what they offer, what their licensing is, and how and whether they include AI (and check for things tagged AI vs not).

DIY Book Covers - I found this one linked from an indie writing site. I have not played with it.

BookBrush - this one is for creating social media images once you have a cover.

Pixabay and Unsplash are two sites I use all the time for graphics. They have started to have more AI art on them in recent times (and beware of links that lead to images that do cost--they are mostly free, but have advertised paid links, too). Last time I looked, the AI art was tagged. All the promotional images I do when I'm getting ready to launch a new PHU book come from these sites.

Pexels looks to be similar, but I don't think I've used it much. I have a bookmark for future me tho!

There's also Wikimedia but in my mind, that one's more for personal use than commercial. I've linked to their page on licensing.

So. You've found imagery, and now you need to put it together.

In terms of free graphics editors, I can only list the ones I'm most familiar with. I've already mentioned Canva. I have used Adobe Express (it's actually handy for stripped down video editing). I know folks who swear by GIMP.

I... know there are places to get cool fonts, but um, I don't have them bookmarked. Sorry!

All of this covers the basic cover image at the front, and not constructing the actual wraparound book cover you need if you're doing a print edition. Most places (I've dealt with DraftToDigital and Amazon KDP) have a template that you can download then edit in GIMP or Adobe Express and those contain instructions.

And I know you don't want to pay someone, but I am going to mention one site that has come up often in indie/small press panels I've been on this year: GetCovers. I have not used them, and cannot vouch for them. I don't know whether they do or do not use AI. But I do know the folks who have spoken about them were happy with their covers, and with the service. And depending on what you need, they are super inexpensive compared to other options.

This does mean that they are using art they've bought and that your cover might have the same art as someone else (this happens a lot where stock photos are concerned--I read two books this year from different authors where the covers obviously came from the same photoshoot).

But anyway, they are an inexpensive option if you get frustrated with doing it yourself.

Best of luck, nonnie, and I hope your book adventures take you far!

[kissthesun-gvf]

Like the Old Days

y'all I have been in the biggest writing slump. college has me writing so much that as soon as I have free time, my brain is fried :(

so let me preface this by saying that this might not be my best work, and there will likely be edits to it--- the time jumps are mostly because I couldn't think of any smoother transitions.

anyways, I hope you like it <3

The incessant knocking at your door had you stumbling across your apartment and rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you fumbled with the lock. You opened the door and were instantly bombarded with your past. “Jacob,” was all you could mumble out before you woke up.

Your eyes shot open not to your ex boyfriend, but instead the ceiling of your bedroom. It was a dream. In that moment you knew it was a dream, but that didn’t stop the pit in your stomach that was accompanied by the scent of him that was drilled into your brain. The sound of his laugh. The feeling of his hand in yours. But you sat up and snapped out of it, turning off your alarm and starting your day. You had a new life with a new job to get to, and Jake was off doing god only knows what with his band. For your own sake, you had blocked all of their social media accounts to stop yourself from reminiscing. He could call you, of course, but you knew he wouldn’t.

**************

“Hey, where are you right now?” You blinked back to reality to find your best friend and coworker standing in front of your desk with the Monday morning coffee the two of you had gotten used to indulging in. “I’m here, just. Tired. I had a really weird dream last night,” you replied with a sigh. She raised her eyebrow with interest and you proceeded to fill her in. She already knew about your history with Jake, but instead of being on team-moving on, she was 110% on team-get back with the rock star. “Well if you’re dreaming about him it’s probably a sign, right?” The grin plastered across her face had you about to throw your coffee right back at her. “No, that’s the last thing it is. Us splitting up really was for the best, we’ve been over this.” You had explained this to her time and time again, but that never had her fully convinced that you shouldn’t reach out to him. So, she tried convincing again: “Why don’t you text him? What’s the harm in reaching out?” At this point she was hanging over the side of your cubicle for dramatic effect. “The harm is that I could get sucked right back into the life I’ve finally moved on from!” You knew explaining this to her was no use, but you had to try anyways. “I’m not saying you have to go crawling back to him– quit your job and follow him around like a puppy, but you could at least be friends again, would that be so bad?” You shook you head before she could finish her sentence. “There’s no ‘just friends’ with me and Jake, it doesn’t work like that. Never has, never will,” you went back to your work and tried to put him out of your mind. His stupid smile, his stupid guitar, the stupid way he would sing you to sleep.

**************

You thought you had her convinced until the end of the day when she made her way back to your desk with the same grin on her face as earlier in the day. “What now?” You asked nervously, eyeing the piece of paper she had in her hand. She stuck it out for you to see a printed concert ticket. And then you looked closer. “You didn’t.” You whispered as you realized what you were looking at. “They’ll  be in town in two weeks! I told you this dream was a sign,” she sighed dreamily, leaning next to you. You decided your best move was just to take it from her and not fight it. You could sell the ticket and come up with some excuse for her later. You had to sell it. You wouldn’t let yourself go. You’d worked so hard to move on from him, you wouldn’t go back. And he wouldn’t want it anyways. Jake would stay in the back of your mind, like his clothes and letters in the back of your closet (yes, the ones you said you would donate and burn.)

**************

Things were going surprisingly well. The show was halfway over and you had managed to make it through without crying at any of the songs or being spotted by any of the guys. Your spot in the seats on Sam’s side had kept you safely anonymous until the encore. Sam was over near the edge of the stage, schmoozing the fans, and you swore he made eye contact with you. There was no way. It was dark, and it was half a second and it was just impossible. But just to be safe, you tried your best to make your fastest escape from the venue. This, of course, was next to impossible considering the amount of people also leaving. You had nearly made it past the merch booth and to the doors when a security guard made his way up to you. “Excuse me, miss. You’re being asked for backstage.” Fuck. Your heart dropped to your stomach. Sam must have seen you. And not only that, sent someone to find you. Did he just want to say hi? Or had he told Jake? Not that you had time to think about it, because you quickly found your way backstage and in front of a dressing room door. You paused a moment in front of the closed door in front of you. Were you really doing this? Were you really about to see him? After all the work you put in to move on, all the heartbreak you endured and knew he had too. Was it really worth it? 

Before you could decide, you heard the handle turn. And there he was. In that split second you scanned his face- he had aged a bit, of course- his hair was longer and he didn’t have quite as much of a “baby face”, but he was Jake. Your Jake. The one you had grown up with, and loved, and lost. “Jacob,” was all you could mumble out. “Hi,” he croaked back. “Sam said you were here, he uh, said he saw you in the crowd?” You nodded, still trying your best to form coherent thoughts. “You didn’t feel like taking your old place ‘Jake-side’, huh?” he laughed awkwardly. You grinned and shook your head. “Just didn’t feel like distracting you, I guess.” He stepped back into the room and you followed, sitting on the couch opposite of where he was leaning against the counter. He took a deep breath. “Why are you here?” he blurted, and you could tell that he had forced himself to say it. “I’m sorry, but I had to ask it. I mean, it’s been like a year now, right?” You nodded as you formed your response. “Yeah, that’s a valid question Jake,” you began, explaining how your friend had brought up the show near you and convinced you to go “for old times sake” and how you had agreed, not expecting any of them to see you, and definitely not expecting to be pulled aside by a security guard after the show and taken backstage. You sat silently for a moment before he spoke again. “But how did the topic come up? Of her finding the show? Were you talking about me?” A smirk spread across his face as he asked the last question. Always a little full of himself, that hadn’t changed. You could tell him. I mean at the end of the day, he had been your first love. He knew you better than you cared to admit. “Funny story… I had a dream about you, the night before I had that conversation with her at work. That’s how it came up…” Jake laughed under his breath at the thought of you dreaming about him. “Oh you did, did you?” he pried. You know what he was getting at. “That’s classified information, Jacob, but it’s not what you think.” “You sure about that, honey?” You froze at his use of your old nickname. The name he had called you on your first date, after your first kiss, and on the day you broke up. His sweet girl. Sweeter than honey. “Yeah, yeah I’m sure.” You couldn’t stop the grin peeking on your face. Talking to him had gotten easy so quickly, just like it had when you met. You fell into conversation about your work and his, but stayed safely on the other side of the room, far away from his wandering eyes and hands. Jake was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. You could tell he was fighting with his instincts right now, just as you were. Even after a year apart, you knew each other so well. As hard as you tried not to think about it, you couldn’t help but look at him and see the curve of his jaw where you used to leave kisses, the calloused fingers that held yours constantly. And you missed it. And by the silence of the dressing room at this moment, you could tell he did too. “The hotel we’re staying at has a pretty nice bar,” Jake implied as he stood from his place on the couch. “Jake…” you sighed. Yes, you both knew it was a bad idea for this to go any further. But it was Jake. “You’re telling me after tonight you couldn’t use a drink?” He smiled and stepped towards you. “One drink. That’s it.” You said it firmly and looked into his eyes to get your point across. Damnit, his eyes. You forced your gaze away and followed him out the door.

**************

He just had to bring up a memory. Had to reminisce, and you had to smile. And then he had to land his hand just above your knee, which had been bumping into his as you sat next to him at the bar, slowly sipping the drink he had insisted on buying you. “Jake, I’m serious. Just drinks,” you reminded him. “Oh come on, sugar, it’s just me,” he mumbled, looking down at his drink. “Yeah, it is you, Jake, which is why I have to be exceedingly careful how far I let this go…” you paused, not sure how to say what you both were thinking. “We made this decision for the both of us, Jake, remember?” He nodded, glancing up at you. “That doesn’t mean I liked it,” he stuttered. You knew he rarely did that, only when he was feeling especially emotional. Looking up and seeing the tears in his eyes forced your attention to the ones threatening to spill down your face. “It doesn’t mean I wanted it either, but we decided it was for the best.” You swallowed hard and choked down your emotions. You both sat in silence, causing the sounds of the room around you to rush back in. Surely nobody else in the bar was paying attention, or so you hoped. “I’m going back up to my room to work on some songs,” Jake sighed and stood up. “I’m not gonna push anything on you, but the door’s unlocked.” That’s all he said. He barely met your eyes before he walked away.

**************

You couldn’t follow him. You hadn’t back then, and you wouldn’t now. But it was like magnetic force was drawing you upstairs. You could set boundaries, and Jake would respect them. But this night must have been a second chance. The universe wouldn’t have brought you here for no reason. So for the second time today you found yourself with nothing but a door between you and your past– and your future. You quickly wiped the tears from under your eyes and turned the knob.

“I can’t love you like the old days, Jake. It doesn’t work that way,” you whispered. Jake swallowed and stopped himself from stepping towards you. “Maybe we don’t have to love like we did then. Maybe we can love like we are now.” You nodded and stepped towards him as he sat on the edge of the bed. His hands reached around your thighs and you leaned down to hold his face in your hands. Nothing had changed. He was still Jake. Your Jake. And you couldn’t stop yourself. You leaned in.

[sa7abnews]

I tried a 'kid-safe' smartphone with no social media. I loved it but would change one thing.

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/11/i-tried-a-kid-safe-smartphone-with-no-social-media-i-loved-it-but-would-change-one-thing-2/

I tried a 'kid-safe' smartphone with no social media. I loved it but would change one thing.

Gabb/Julia PugachevskyMany parents worry about the effects that social media and smartphones have on their kids.Gabb makes kid-safe smartphones and watches that don't have internet or social media apps.I thought the phone was well-designed and is a solid first step in reducing screen time.As an aspiring parent, I've been preemptively worried about all the usual issues, like saving enough money and figuring out the best place to raise kids.But one issue feels insurmountable and terrifying: navigating smartphones.Gen Alpha is poised to be the most online generation, with AI and other inevitable advancements in technology and social media. Knowing all the mental health downsides of smartphones, I feel certain that I should ban my child from both phones and social media for as long as possible. At the same time, I also don't want my kids to feel left out of friendships and social activities when everyone has an iPhone except them. And I'm still in the deliberating stage — I can't imagine how tough it is for parents to make these decisions.Gabb, a company that makes "kid-safe" smartphones and watches, is trying to reach parents who have these same concerns. The idea is that kids and teens have phones that look and function just like the ones their friends have — but don't have internet, social media, or any apps that could expose them to explicit content or hours of mindless TikTok videos.Holding a Gabb 4 Pro kid-safe phone. I could choose from pre-selected backgrounds and change the text bubble color.Julia PugachevskyCurious to test it myself, I decided to try the Gabb 4 Pro (normally $200, but currently on sale for $50). I wanted to see if a smartphone could simultaneously protect teens without making them feel ostracized by their friends.I loved the phone, but using it for a week also made me realize how complicated excessive social media use is to solve.It's a well-designed phone that doesn't feel dorkyMy favorite phone I ever had was an Android in college over a decade ago. It was much easier to text on than a flip phone, but it was also far less engrossing than the iPhones I've had ever since because apps weren't nearly as sophisticated yet.The Gabb 4 Pro was exactly like it. I could even customize the text bubble colors.Texting on the Gabb 4 Pro. I could still use emojis, but no reactions or GIFs like on an iPhone.Julia PugachevskyIt took me a little time to adjust as an iPhone user, but much of the interface looked the same. Apps showed up as the same tiny squares, there was a good-quality camera, and I could still use emojis.I also didn't find it as limiting as I thought it'd be. The music offerings — on a built-in music platform that looks identical to Spotify — included the radio edits of popular songs like Sabrina Carpenter's "Please Please Please" ("motherfucker" is replaced with "little sucker"). I also could speak freely over text — I wasn't blocked from using curse words, for example.The built-in music app on Gabb looks exactly like Spotify and features clean versions of popular songs.Julia PugachevskyI also loved the app offerings (which have to be downloaded by parents first — see below for more on how that works). I saw familiar brands like Duolingo, Audible, Peloton, and Headspace. There was a plethora of educational, fitness, self-care, and religious apps, plus a few games as well. I also found practical options such as maps, food delivery, and banking apps.Realistically, a child or teen could navigate directions, manage a savings account, and order dinner on their own with this phone — all without relying on the internet.It all reminded me of a conversation I had earlier this year with an ex-digital brand strategist about reducing social media use. She emphasized the importance of replacing Instagram scrolling with something else, rather than just taking it away. Gabb's app offerings leave a lot of room for kids to be entertained in healthy ways, swapping hours of TikTok with reading or language learning.Parents can monitor dangerous textsTo set up a kid's phone, parents have to first download two apps onto theirs: MyGabb and GabbMessenger.MyGabb pairs the parent's phone with the Gabb 4 Pro, allowing them to track their child's location and even be alerted when they leave designated "safe zones."GabbMessenger goes one step further by notifying parents if their child receives texts from unknown numbers or messages with inappropriate or graphic content. It also has an option for "safe" video calling, where it detects nudity using a smart filtration platform. It then flags and blocks calls from either party.As a test, I sent some profanities and sexual texts to see what would get flagged. Any time I used the "f*ck" (in any context), my text exchange showed up on the "parent's" phone.This conversation was flagged to the "parent" phone because of the F-word.Julia PugachevskyI support the idea of shielding teens from potential predators or violent pornography, but I didn't love this aspect of surveillance. Gabb's own research found that the majority of kids get their first phones in middle and high school — a prime time for rebellion that, at least for every teenager I've ever known, has involved cursing, flirting, and some sexual exploration. I think this feature would be great if parents could opt out of being pinged when their teens are just being teens by customizing the filter themselves.It's a great step, but parents can't protect kids on their ownI grew up with phones more rudimentary than the one Gabb offers. I remember a time when I would have to press a key three times to type one letter. It didn't keep me from struggling with being too online as an adult.As much as I liked this phone, it was difficult to use it all week. I would start, but then need my real one to answer a work message. I'd see memes from friends who forgot to text my Gabb phone and would get sucked right back into social media.I think the Gabb phone is a fantastic first one for teens. It gives them everything they need to talk to their friends, be entertained, and independently navigate the world without exposing them to constant social comparisons, bullying, violent porn, and unfiltered garbage.I also hope more is done to reduce kids' screen time. I agree with parents who are vigilant about kids's phone use and who model good phone behavior themselves. On a broader level, I think policies that ban phones in schools are important, too. Even a "dumb" phone can't protect kids from zoning out in class.Plus, the only reason I have social media boundaries at all is because I grew up being encouraged to have hobbies. As an adult, I still feel shame when I choose Reddit over reading a book or get too sucked into taking a good photo to enjoy a hike.Gabb phones can appeal to helicopter parents because of the many monitoring features they offer. It'd be very easy to leave a kid in their room with this phone and the apps it comes with, knowing they'll be physically safe.But if anything, teens with location-tracking phones should be nudged to go out into the real world as often as possible. Ultimately, that's their best protection against an adult life surrounded by screens.