#whatever i just hope the weekend goes by fast

[theood]

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[hippielittlemetalhead]

So... I lied about getting a full fix-it to This → Part 1. Y'all get parts focusing on different characters for now as Hop traverses his guilt trip. I won't say it gets worse before it gets better but... kinda in places? I promise it's a happy ending though!!

What do you want from me I'm stressed and depressed and I like making my blorbos suffer (a.k.a projecting my trauma instead of doing the healthy shit my shrink tells me to)

You've been warned... But I do hope you like it.

So here we have Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition)

He goes to Joyce about it first. Thinks about her gentle herding of the trio that has become the Hopper-Byers brood. Thinks about how she put everything he was feeling about Mike and El and their giggling and the fucking door into words that kept him from looking like an imbecile (if he'd have ever used them instead of fucking it up 'winging it'). Thinks about the way her voice stays soft and kind of quiet even when she's spitting in his face about listening to her (and every time she's been right) and how that's translated to talking down government goons and wrangling the army of children that seems to get bigger each time they have to fight interdimensional terrors. So he goes to Joyce about what Murray said, the noise Steve made with That Look in his eyes and his bandages peeking out from under a shirt that looks like one of the Henleys he's been missing since coming 'back from the dead' and they dug out his clothes from storage. (El wouldn't let her throw anything out, not until she was ready to say goodbye. Thank whatever god[s] there may be she never needed to)

He doesn't expect Joyce to make a face like he suggested inviting Owens to family dinner. He doesn't expect the scoff and eye roll as her shoulders tense and her hands flex at her sides like she's about to let loose her (honestly really attractive) righteous fury. About the Harrington kid.

Maybe he should have asked when the kids weren't home. Before El quietly told them the bullying wasn't as bad as it was in California but some people still made fun of how she spoke and how all of her friends were boys (and just as quietly asked they not do anything. Asked that they let her and The Party handle it until they couldn't). Before Will came home sulking about something idiotic Mike said or did or something the kid missed (though lately the latest Wheeler mistake is followed by bashful mention of the Emerson kid doing something specifically to make Will feel better in the moment). Before Jonathan came home from 'job hunting' or 'volunteering at the school's relief center' reeking of weed and his long-haired friend in tow (less than usual but still enough to make Joyce feel guilty for missing it for so long, for making the boy grow up so fast that he spends his days out of his mind instead of the weekend bender like when they were kids). Before The Party had come by with what homework the school was still giving out and talking over each other about all the latest small-town gossip a teenager can get their hands on (Eddie's name has been cleared but he's still laid up at the hospital. Susan Mayfield has been noticeably absent according to every nosy housewife in Hawkins considering her daughter is in a coma. The Hagans, Carvers, Perkins and a handful of other 'well to do' families have skipped town taking most of the sports population with them. Steve has been letting people displaced by the damage crash at the Harrington mansion. Steve has kept up hours at Family Video somehow and is a regular volunteer at the various relief centers in town. Steve has been giving all of them rides and may have told Dustin he's thinking of trading in the Beemer for a bigger vehicle for all the kids and people he chauffeurs about. Steve keeps a room empty and waiting for when Max wakes up before her mother makes an appearance. Steve. Steve. Steve.)

He doesn't expect the way she spits his name like she's talking about Dick and Margaret under the bleachers over a smoke before the yard teacher catches them. The rant about bullies and broken cameras and trashed kitchens and dead monsters in her fridge. The crack in her voice when she crosses her arms to stop their shaking as she lays sin upon sin at this boy's feet.

And maybe before that would have been enough.

He doesn't expect the stone in his stomach or the burning in his chest as he looks the woman he loves in the eye and says "So I guess we should tell Nancy to break up with Jonathan before he pulls a Lonnie, huh?" It's a low blow. He knows from the hurt anger on her face and on the purse of her lips. He knows that's why he said it. "That kid is lucky to be alive let alone walking and have we ever even thanked him for keeping the fucking kids alive each time they pull their dumb shit when the world goes to hell? Does that sound like anything his folks would have ever done for us? Hell for their own fucking kid they practically signed over to ME of all people?"

He's shaking now too and Joyce has her hands fluttering between them like she wants to reach out. To touch, comfort. Pull him close and tell him to take a breath.

"He called me 'His Hop', Joyce" He barely has enough breath on him to squeeze the words past his tight throat. "Called me His Hop and watched Ellie and the kids when I just couldn't and you were at work. I don't think I've seen his folks in town since the mall was opened and all the donors had that big party. Don't think I've spoken to them since '83 and they made me the kid's guardian when they aren't around cause they didn't want to fly down for a government sized concussion."

By now he knows El and Will are peeking around the corner, their eyes wide and worried. Jonathan has his door cracked and Angus (is that the hippie's name? He can't remember) is whispering something about heavy auras. Joyce is staring somewhere off in the distance, wringing her hands and biting her lips like she's facing an interdimensional portal shaped problem.

"The kids are planning to have one of their games in a few days." Her voice is brittle in a way he's not used to anymore. Not since she pulled her youngest out of hell and faced down a demon clawing through her walls. "He always drives them over and- and disappears until they need to head home. I can make sure he stays for dinner. Like the rest of the kids. I know Claudia has been having him over so I- I can get some recipes from her that he likes."

Something in his shoulders shakes loose and he reaches out to pull her practically shaking from into his chest.

"I don't know what to say to him Hop. He's not Mike and he's not like either of my boys. In my head he's just always been..."

"Dick and Margaret's brat." He sighs out and rests his cheek on the top of her head as she nods and presses herself in closer.

He's aware of eyes on them. Confused and worried and judgemental and he'll pay that piper next. These kids taught him how to be a dad again once, they can do it again, right?

Part 3

Part 4.1

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth

Part 4.2

Part 5

If I missed you in the tag list I'm sorry I tried 🙃🫡 Tell me what you think? 🫣🥲

[potato-lord-but-not]

“There’s something aesthetically pleasing about the word noon. Its palindromic spelling feels appropriate for the middle of the day, when the sun is directly overhead and the hands on the clock are pointed upward in a straight line. It’s even spelled with letters found more or less in the middle of the alphabet.” (“What Time Is…” par. 1)

Perhaps unfortunately for my argument, this article goes on to explain how the word ‘noon’ originally referred to the ninth hour of the day, that of course being 3 o’clock; because the sun and with it the people rose at six. It is derived from the Latin word for ‘ninth’, ‘nonus’. The word’s meaning apparently shifted during the twelfth century, because of the prayers of monastic orders. The second of three daily prayers would occur at noon, and the time of this prayer eventually became earlier, landing at twelve. This is believed to have been so the monks could break their fast sooner. Of course, this is not universally agreed upon and other theories include shifts in seasonal daylit hours, and European Medieval people’s struggles to have accurate timekeeping.

None of my sources suggest that three o’clock was considered the middle of the day at any point in time, therefore I would like to argue that the word noon did not originally refer to the middle of the day, but eventually, when it was given to the time that is more deserving of that title, came to do so. I believe that the denotation “middle of the day” is something that is both scientifically and culturally awarded, and that for whatever reason the people (however unknowingly) creating the Old/Middle English language believed twelve o’clock to be so. If you wish to create your own cultural norms, by all means go ahead, just remember that the word culture refers to a group, so you’ll need to find some people who agree with you. (Which, hey, maybe you already have, maybe most people agree with you and I’m just being pedantic.)

Anyways um hi, sorry about this, I did in fact make a tumblr account solely to send you this, because the idea of doing so was too funny to me to not.  Also, I just discovered that the Oxford English Dictionary website has a pay wall these days and I am DEVASTATED I tell you, devastated. But yeah, I’ll stop, have a good weekend, I love you, I hope your morning spent on public transit hasn’t been too boring.

Works Cited

“Culture Definition & Meaning.” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/culture. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

“Noon (n.).” Online Etymology Dictionary, www.etymonline.com/word/noon. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

“What Time Is ‘Noon’?” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/wordplay/noon-history-ninth-prayer-hour-nones. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

OFC you’re leaving citations on A TUMBLR ASK OH MY GODDD anyway I do believe I’m starting a cultural shift because everyone I’ve asked so far has NOT said mid-day is noon they’ve ranged from 11-1 to 1-2 (albeit a bit earlier than my 2-3 answer but STILL)

Yknow what fuck it let’s do a poll bb

anyywayyyy everyone say hi to my girlfrienddd give them a nice warm welcome to tumblr <3

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 18+

WHISPERED SECRETS Masterlist

Summary: After four years, your sister's ex-boyfriend comes back into your life. Can you keep your entanglement a secret? Will the guilt eat you alive? 

Pairing:  Sisters ex Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader. 

Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt - comfort, romance. 

Warning: Explicit sex, fingering, Possessive Yoongi, swearing, reader is insecure, jealousy, punishment, unprotected sex, drinking, dirty talk, praising, degradation, spanking, spanking as punishment, teasing, hair pulling, arguments. Overuse of the name baby, Facial 

A/N: This chapter moves kind of fast. I needed to tie up some loose ends before the epilogue.   

ORAL SMUT BELOW!!  If you think facials are degrading….skip the end. 

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Voices, you hear voices in your head….no not in your head, in your apartment. Your eyes open slowly, and you notice that it's dark in your room. You don't even remember getting back into bed. Weren't you just at the hospital? The voices are becoming clearer, and you sit up in bed straining to hear what they were saying. One was definitely Yoongi, you noticed as you got out of bed and walked into your living room. You see your dad sitting on your couch. He and Yoongi seemed to be having a serious conversation.  Yoongi noticed you first, and with a small smile, he held his hand out to you. You join him on your oversized chair as your dad sits across from you on the couch. He looked at your wrapped wrist. He looked guilty.

“What's going on?” You ask quietly as you look between the two of them.

“I wanted to check on you after what happened at the house.  Yoongi said that he had taken you to the hospital,” your dad answered. “I……also wanted to apologize to you.” 

“Apologize?” You question. Yoongi goes to get up off the chair. You place your hand on his leg, keeping him down. “For what?”

“Everything,” he says. “For the way your mom and sister treated you all those years. I was never around for you.”

“Where's mom?” You asked.

“She's…uhh…going to stay with your sister for a while. Mingyu, he put the engagement on hold for right now. He heard the fight and left when she started screaming about Yoongi. Clearly, your sister needs to work on some things, ” your dad answers. You start to cry, and Yoongi pulls you closer to him. “It's not your fault, Y/N. I let too much go over the years. Worked too much, ignored you. I let them get away with everything because I didn't want to deal with them. I'm taking responsibility for that now.”

“Are you getting divorced?” you asked, sniffling. 

“I don’t know. There's too much resentment on both our ends to ignore now. I just hope that you will let me get to know you now….both of you?” he asks. You start crying more, and Yoongi's arm tightens its hold around you.  “Let me try and make up for the years we lost.” 

“Of course,” Yoongi answers. “She'll love that.” 

Your dad stands up from the couch, and the two of you follow suit. You silently follow him and watch as he nervously fiddles with his keys. Yoongi stays back to give you a moment alone with him. You hope that he really wants a relationship with you. You've come to terms years ago that your mom and sister were a lost cause even though it hurt to admit. This makes you feel hopeful.  You throw yourself at your dad and wrap your arms around him. It feels foreign and just a little awkward, but he welcomes it and hugs you back. 

“Maybe next weekend we can have a Christmas dinner if you're not busy?” he asks and you smile, agreeing with him.  “It's getting late, I should head out. Whatever happens, it's going to be okay.”

“Okay,” you say softly.

After you shut your front door bidding your dad a goodbye, you turn to see Yoongi looking at you. He looks lost in his thoughts as if he doesn’t know what to say to you. Was it something that they were talking about while you were sleeping?

“What's wrong?”you ask him. 

“Come here, sit. We need to have a talk,” he's quiet and calm. You do what he asks and sit down next to him. “Do you remember anything you said on the way home?”

“I don't even remember leaving the hospital,” you say, and he nods his head like he expected that. “What did I say?” 

“I think in order for us to move forward completely, you need to be honest with me,” he stares into your eyes. It's an intense, serious look. “Truly honest.” 

“Okay,” you whisper. Your hands start to shake nervously. You can't even begin to fathom what he wants to talk so seriously about. 

“Do you hold it against me that I was with your sister Like…..sexually?” he asked, and your eyes widened.

“What? Why would you ask that?” Your voice raises a little.

“Because of you…you brought it up in the car,” he answers. “You may have mentioned a sex tape too, but that doesn't matter right now.” 

“What? No! I try not to think about that stuff. It's just….” You don't want to continue. 

“Ask me. Anything you want, ask me.  You heard your dad. I don't want that resentment between us.” he explains. “I don't want you to ever be unsure about us because of my past with her. I need you to speak up now.” 

“Did you love her?” You blurt out.

“No,” he said automatically without any hesitation.   

“You were together for years…” you start but sigh in hesitation. “I just don’t understand how we ended up here sometimes.”

Yoongi takes your hand and pulls you close to him. Your legs are completely pressed up against one another. Taking your hand, he gives it a firm squeeze and tells you to look at him. Your eyes meet his. He strokes your cheek gently with his thumb, almost like he's trying to reassure you. 

“Do you want me to tell you everything?” You nod. “Even if it makes me sound bad?” You nod again. “When I first met her. It was in a friend's dorm room, and she flirted pretty heavily with me. I was young and she was pretty and…honestly,  she put out easily. What 18 year old guy wouldn't want that? We had only been together maybe two weeks before she brought me home to meet your family. She didn’t really talk about you. All she said was that she had a kid sister. So, I thought maybe you were like 10 or something. Then, when I first met you. You obviously were not 10.  It confused me at first, but I guess some siblings are not close, and I didn't really question it. Then, I saw how she talked to you, how your parents acted, and how you always kept to yourself. I felt bad for you…”

“Great, that's just great.” You interrupted him and tried to stand up. Yoongi grabbed you around your waist to keep you where you were.

“Listen, I felt bad at first, and that's why I always tried to help you out. Then, the more time we spent together, I actually considered you a friend. That all started to change when you went with that fucking boy to that dance. You looked so beautiful that night but you were so young and I felt horrible for having those thoughts. What kind of boyfriend has those thoughts about their girlfriend's sister?  I felt so guilty for suddenly finding myself attracted to you. I tried breaking up with her that night. We argued for hours and she lost it crying and begged me not to leave her. She threw herself at me and I gave in like an idiot. Then we started….you called me crying. I completely shut her down to help you and she was furious. I was so scared for you that night, hearing you cry I thought that the bastard did something to you.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath as his leg starts to bounce at the memory. “Keep going,” you whisper as you rub his leg comfortingly. 

“I knew I had to stop coming around so much. Seeing that hickey on your neck, I was jealous, and I had no right to be.  So, I got my own place, got a job, and she pretty much moved in with me without asking. I told her that I didn't want her to, but she never listened.” he continued and shook his head “I tried to put some distance between you and I. I thought maybe those feelings would go away if I didn't see you all the time, and I could focus on school and maybe focus on your sister more like I should have. I was stupid for letting it go on for as long as it did when I knew that I couldn't force myself to love her. Fuck, I don't even think I liked her.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

 “I stayed with her to see you,” he confessed. “How selfish is that? I was in love with you, but I still stayed with her just to have an excuse to see you. Looking at you…it was such a rush of emotions and feelings that I can't even describe. I never felt that for her. I just felt exhausted and suffocated with her.” 

“How did you break up with her?” your voice asked softly.

“When you fell asleep after that fight with your mom. I felt like I failed you. If I hadn't suggested that you apply to that art school, then that fight wouldn't have happened. I just knew I had to get out of there no matter how much I wished I could take you with me…I couldn't.  I found your sister in the kitchen, and she went in on me about my feelings for you for the 100th time. She said she was willing to forgive me if I never saw you again. I just laughed at her, and I walked out. I went home and packed her shit. I threw it on your parents' doorstep.” 

“They always knew how you felt about me?” You ask and look at the floor.

“Yea, I'm sure they did,” he said, nodding his head. 

“Then what happened?” you wonder, and he shrugged.

“ I changed my number the next day and avoided her around campus at all costs. Ended up changing my major and completely changing my schedule.  I tried to push all thoughts of you away and move on with my life. I didn't think I would ever see you again, but then years later, Jimin and Hobi had convinced me to grab some food with them. Jimin ended up going to the bar next door and, by some sick twist of fate, met Lisa,” he stops talking and looks at you. 

“Then she ditched me,” you say, and he nodded. 

“And then I found you,” he whispered. “My head told me to walk away and leave you alone when I saw you standing out there. My heart though…I needed you. Even if it was going to be for one night, I needed you. That's what I told myself…just one night. As soon as I kissed you in my car…I knew that was a lie.” 

You lean up and give him a soft kiss. Your arms go around him, holding him close in a hug. You feel his lips brush your neck.  The both of you were quiet. The air was still quite heavy around you. 

“You could have never saved me, Yoongi. You were young, too. That wasn't your job.  That's not what this is, is it? Are you trying to save me now because you couldn't back then?” You asked, dreading the answer

“NO! I get how you could think that. I still look at you now and I feel like that 19, 20 year old kid who just absolutly, fucking adores you.” He confesses. 

“It wasn't right to stay with my sister if you didn't even like her. I understand why you did it, but it makes me feel worse. I was the reason you broke up. Wasn't I?” You ask quietly

“It wasn't ever going to work out between her and I. We were too different. I know I strung her along, and I'm an asshole for that. It wasn't your fault I fell in love with you.” he tells you. 

After a moment of silence, you both settle back in the chair and get comfortable with his arm around you as your head rests on his chest. You take a minute to ponder everything that he said to you. You do feel bad for your sister. You think that she really did love him in her own selfish way. Sighing, you look at your boxes, cluttering your living room. It seemed like he did get a lot of packing done.  You look at him with a quirk of an eyebrow and smirk at him. 

“Am I better in bed than her?” You ask joking with him. 

“Nobody could ever compare to you,” he said with a laugh. He gently grabs your face and kisses you. He pulls back and smirks at you. “Still want to make that sex tape? I'm all for jerking it on your face.”

You also have settled into your office at Persona records nicely in the past few months.  You didn't have the best view, it was just the parking lot but it was quiet. Namjoon was great, too. When he gave you a pile of papers of organized chaos and the login information to your computer, it took you a good while to figure out his system. You pretty much just deleted everything and started from scratch.  It was much more legible that way. Yoongi would often visit you throughout the day.  Once or twice, he might have tried to convince you to have a quickie with him. You may have given in once…okay you give in all time. You've banned him since then, only allowing him in once a day and told him clothes have to stay on. He pouted and tried to bribe you, but you did really need to work. Hobi always sneaks into your office a couple of times a week to have lunch with you, and you always look forward to it. He claims that you're his favorite person in the office. Well, next to Yoongi, that is. Together, you try to conspire about what to get Yoongi for his birthday.  He claims he doesn't want anything and won't even hint at wanting anything. Hobi says, Just let him tie you up for the night….not a bad idea. 

You laugh at him……wait…..what?

Christmas and New Years had passed in a blur. Yoongi loved the records and basketball tickets. He said he's going to get the two of you matching jerseys for the game.  He got you some framed prints of your favorite paintings to hang on the walls in your now shared apartment and a gift card to Chic-n-Wings. You were going to eat the hell out of some rolls. You had spent that morning with Yoongi’s parents. They loved you. They made you feel like their home was yours now as well. It felt like you had a real family for the first time. They even had a stocking for you. Your dad had a small Christmas dinner with the two of you. He told you he definitely approves of Yoongi, and that made you so happy. Your mom wasn't there. She called you the next day, and you wished her a happy holiday. She called you ungrateful after she gave up her own dreams to be a mother to you. You finally got your answer after a heated conversation where there was a lot of yelling. Turns out, your parents had your sister earlier than they thought forcing your mom to drop out of school. She was supposed to go back to school after your sister got older and went into daycare, then you came along, ruining it all and crushing her own dreams for good. Yoongi had snacthed your phone quickly out of your hand and laid into her. Telling her that she was never a mother and she doesn’t deserve to call herself one.  How you were not to blame for her own failings, and he better not hear her talk to you like that again. You told her you hope that she finds whatever it is she needs, but this was goodbye. You blocked her after that. As sad as you were, you finally had a sense of freedom.

“You're going to watch our men play basketball,” Lisa tells her. “You've been cooped up far too long.”

“I don't know what I'm doing here?” Jisoo complained.  You and Lisa have her linked between the two of you dragging her through the rec center. 

“It'll be fun. We haven't spent a lot of time together lately,” you tell her. She sighs and continues to let you drag her down the hall. “It's also Yoongi's birthday. It's a great time for all of us to come together.” 

“Oh yeah, being the fifth wheel sounds fun,” Jisoo grumbled.

“Oh, Y/N, hello,” you look to your side and see Seungkwan coming out of the door to the track. 

“Seungkwan, it's good to see you. How are you? How's work?” You ask politely. 

“Oh, Lisa didn't tell you. I quit not long after you. I'm just temping now until I can find something permanent,” he tells you. You can see his eyes flick to Jisoo, who in turn is trying not to stare at the handsome blonde.   

“I'm sorry. Seungkwan, this is Jisoo,” you introduce.

“Ah, the one with the wine. It's nice to meet you,” he says softly.  

“You too,” she said, ducking her head. You hear Lisa mutter “gross” and take off to the indoor courts. 

“Baby, what's taking so long?” Yoongi asks, jogging up to you. “Who's this?”

“This is Seungkwan.  We used to work together….he hates Lisa too,” you tell him, and he nods his head in approval. 

“I like you already. Do you play?” Yoongi asks, looking at him while twirling the basketball around.  

“A little,” Seungkwan answers. 

“Great you're on my team,” Yoongi takes your hand, and the four of you head back down the hall.  You look back at Jisoo, who is nodding at something Seungkwan is saying. The two of you lock eyes, and you send her a wink. 

You and Lisa were cheering for your respective boyfriends. You laugh at Jimin, try as he might. He just didn't have the athleticism that Yoongi had. He tripped over his own feet several times, earning laughs from everyone. Seungkwan was a surprise, though. He and Yoongi worked well together, easily securing the win. Jisoo even got into the game and cheered and clapped for Seungkwan.  He turned beet red and waved at her excitedly.  You felt second-hand embarrassment  for the both of them. You make a mental note to tell Namjoon about him. He mentioned he needed someone to take over taxes and royalties.  That was way beyond your skills. Seungkwan would be perfect for it, and it seems like he could be perfect for Jisoo, too.  Things were changing, and this time, it was for the best.

“Yea? Maybe I should play more often,” he suggests. Pulling you to him, he kisses you. His tongue works its way between your lips, intermingling with your own. His hands gently massage your waist. Your own hands sneak up over his shoulder and link together behind his neck. 

“Do you know how good you look playing basketball?” You ask Yoongi as you slip into the shower with him.  He rinses the shampoo from his hair, and he turns to embrace you.

“I won't complain,” you say. Pulling away, you start to trail kisses along his jaw. Your hands glide slowly down his wet body until you get to his rapidly hardening cock. Your hand gently starts to stroke him. “I thought you were so hot back when you made me watch you at the park too. I think you were probably trying to show off for me.” Your lips start to move downward against his neck. You slowly start to drop to your knees. Taking your time dropping kisses as you go. Down across his chest, his stomach and finally down his happy trail. Until you finally settle down onto your knees on the shower floor. 

“Of course I was. Maybe you should have said something back then,” he voice came out a little breathy. “You know, some of the guys I was with kept asking me who you were. They wanted your number.” 

“Oh?” You ask and smile up at him. Lifting his erection toward him, you make a show of licking him from base to tip. “Why didn't you?” Yoongi's hand flew to your hair. Gripping it firmly, he forced you to look up at him. 

“Why do you think?” He snaps at you.

You love getting him worked up. You hold eye contact with him as you take him into your mouth, slowly letting your tongue swirl around him. You can hear his head hitting the shower wall with a light thump. You've gotten a lot better at this. You may….or may not have finally gone to Lisa for tips. Did she tease you? Absolutely. 

“I might have liked one of them. Lisa and I probably could have double dated. I think she got a couple of their numbers that night,” you say after you pull off of him with a pop. His head snaps down to look at you. The water dripping from his hair makes him look enticing and dangerous.  You stick your tongue out and give one single lick to his tip. 

“You were fucking mine. You were always mine,” he growls. 

Hand still in your hair, he guides you back on him. You still can't take him all in your mouth, and he's always been very mindful about that. Taking as much as you could in your mouth, you finally start bobbing up and down on him. Grabbing him around the base, you start twisting your wrist in time with your bobbing head. Yoongi starts to move his hips, keeping his own rhythm with you. You move your hands and place them on his thighs, bracing yourself, letting him take control as his thrusts get a little faster. You gag on him, and he pulls you off him. 

“Still can’t take it all yet,” he mocks you. “Maybe I should just….what did you say…jack it on your face?”

You lick your lips and look up at him. Is he really going to do it? You didn't think he was ever going to bring that up again. Honestly, you're not against it. You just nod your head, and his eyes widen in surprise just for a moment. 

“Really?” He asks you quietly with wide eyes. His whole demeanor completely changed.“Are you sure?”  You look up at him and nod silently. He gently shifts you out of the stream of water that was pelting you in the face. Leaning down, he captures your lips once more in a searing kiss with tongues intertwining. “I love you,” he whispers.

 Straightening back up, Yoongi looks down at you as he takes himself in his hand.  Biting his lower lip, he slowly starts to pump himself. You watch him, your eyes flicking between watching his hand and looking at his face. His focus is solely on you. Looking at you, drenched, naked, and kneeling in front of him. You slowly bring your hands up to your chest and cup your breasts, letting your fingers gently pull at your hardened nipples. You let a small moan escape you. His hand starts to speed up, mouth dropping open, and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek.

“Keep touching yourself. I like that,” he tells you gruffly. “You look so beautiful.”

You start to feel brave, and your hand travels lower between your own legs. You spread your knees just a little wider, and his eyes shoot down to the view. Yoongi breath hitches and he snatches the back of your head with his free hand and pulls you right in front of the tip of his cock. Your tongue sneaks out of your mouth to give his tip a lick. He groans and his hand tightens in your hair.

“Close your eyes and stick out your tongue,” he orders. 

You follow his direction and do as you're told. You close your eyes tightly and open your mouth. As you stick out your tongue you feel him tap the tip of him against it. You want to watch, you want to see him. You bet he looks beautiful. 

“Fuck, here it come,” he groans out as a warning to you.  You flinch a little when you feel it hit your face. Thick, ropes of cum landing across your cheeks, eyes and your tongue. Yoongi starts slapping his cock against your face before he sticks it back in your mouth. “Suck a little more.” He tells you. 

Keeping your eyes closed, you lightly moan around him as you suck on his tip. Completely emptying him. You hear him chuckle, and the shower door opens for a quick second. He gently pulls you off him again and wipes at your eyes with a soft cloth. 

“Open your eyes,” he murmurs. You look at him, and he's smiling at you. “I should really take a picture of you right now. Covered in me. It's the most sexist thing I've ever seen.”  You shake your head and start to blush. This only makes Yoongi laugh at you. Wetting the towel, he proceeds to clean off your face. “I can't believe you let me do that.”

“Happy birthday,” you tell him. He winks at you and pulls you up and into a hug. You wrap your arms around him and let the water warm you back up. You smile to yourself at this moment. Finally, everything is starting to feel perfect. 

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Tagged Readers:

@marimarvelfan, @unicornbabylover, @minghaosimp, @seoullove96

@iheartsvt, @babyitscoldoutside

[thebiggerbear]

Come Pick Up Your Ghosts

Summary: Jensen left a little...something behind on his last visit when he was in town. Something you are urgently asking him to come back and retrieve so you can know peace once more.

Characters: Jensen Ackles; Friend!Female!Reader

Pairing: none (I came at this purely from a friendship-type basis for Jensen and Reader y'all, sorry about that)

A/N: I don't write RPF (this is my first time actually). I have read it but I don't write it. This was the result of some freeflow writing I was doing and allowing the muse to stretch a bit before digging in for a writing-focused weekend. Anytime the muse goes off the trail, I tend to say up front that I have no idea what this is. And that still holds true with this piece though I will say that on this one, I do know why the idea popped into my head. I recently saw the podcast Jensen did with Michael Weatherly (Pulling the Thread) and the garage door moment and his reaction to it just cracked me up.

All unbeta'd.

Sequel here

A little disclaimer: No disrespect is meant to Jensen, Danneel, or their family. I don't know either of them or anyone connected to or associated with them. I merely took things from interviews, con videos, the podcast mentioned above, and his public persona to create the "Jensen" seen here. This was purely for creativity and entertainment purposes. Just for fun.

Warnings: fear (reactionary); language; jokes of implication

Word Count: 4957

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You stepped into your house, humming happily as you set your grocery bag down on the counter. You quickly rifled through the mail and stepped on the pedal of the garbage can to open the lid to toss inside whatever junk you found. When you were done, you turned to slip your keys on the keyring, only to turn back to find that the legitimate mail you had set aside on the counter was now all over the floor. 

“Dammit,” you muttered, crouching down to pick it up. When you stood back up, your grocery bag was a few inches to the left of where you had set it down and your refrigerator door was now open a crack. You glanced around, though you knew you were the only one in the house. After a moment of quiet, you shrugged and easily dismissed it. 

You began unloading the vegetables from the grocery bag, continuing to hum, and opening the fridge door wider so you could place them in the right spots. When you spun around to get more items, you nearly jumped. The mail you had organized into a neat pile was now scattered all over your counter and the grocery bag was even closer to where you were standing in shock. …what the hell?

You waited, holding your breath, but when nothing moved, you slowly let it out. You told yourself that you must have knocked into the mail when pulling the produce out of the bag and that’s what sent the envelopes flying haphazardly across the marble. You probably just didn’t notice because you were so focused on your task. And the bag…you probably moved it yourself and just didn’t remember. That tended to happen more often than not when you were on autopilot, and thoughts of something else were running through your mind. That’s all it was. Yeah.

You pulled the bag even closer to you, carefully reaching in to grab the eggs and the strawberries. You scanned the room around you one more time before loading them into the refrigerator. Just as you placed the eggs down on the proper shelf, you heard something behind you that sounded like a slow sliding. You whipped around, your heart beating fast, but you didn’t see anyone. “Hello?” You called, hoping to God someone hadn’t broken into your home. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time you would’ve had to worry about something like that.

There was no response and you slowly peeked around the open fridge door. Thankfully, no one was there and one quick scan into the hallway didn’t show anyone either. You quietly closed the door and looked around the room but there was no one to be found. You took careful steps around your counter and your eyes widened when you saw one of your drawers open and sitting there, almost fully pulled out. Now you knew what that sound before had been.

You knew for a fact that you had not opened it and there was no way it just opened on its own…right? You shook the thought from your head and decided that there must be something wrong with the drawer slides or even the drawer itself. Perhaps the warmer weather was making the wood expand and while that possible explanation really didn’t help your theory, you refused to acknowledge the logistics and chalked it up to a faulty drawer. As a matter of fact, you were going to put a call in to your construction guy as soon as you were done putting the groceries away, first thing. 

You quickly shut the drawer, nodding in approval when it didn’t open again, and turned back towards the counter. As soon as you did, your keys clattered to the floor behind you. You very slowly turned to look and sure enough, there sat your keys right on the tile floor, almost taunting you. Your eyes trailed upwards to the hook they had been hanging on. It didn’t look bent in any way and they had been sitting securely on the piece of metal because you had put them there yourself. How were you going to explain that one?

Your keys suddenly moved a few feet to the left, startling you and making you jump back. The moment you did, a huge chill went up your spine and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You froze; every one of your instincts were telling you not to turn around, not to look. But look at what? You didn’t have too much time to ponder that one, though, when your keys moved again, this time towards you. And at the same time, two envelopes fell to the ground from the counter, as if they had decided to leap from the edge. Your drawer that you had just shut then opened again, slowly. The chill was gone but now adrenaline was kicking in and your heart was hammering against your ribcage. Where there had been a whisper of fear before, now there was only irritation and it was growing. 

Immediately, you shook your head. “Nope, not happening.” You slammed the drawer shut, picked up your keys, thrust them into your pocket for now, and retrieved the runaway envelopes. When you popped back up, you gasped, seeing the fridge door that you knew you had closed now wide open. Well, that explains the chill at least.

A cabinet in the corner slowly began to open right in front of your eyes and a package of teabags you had sitting up on the highest shelf fell out onto the counter next to your stove. At the same time, the drawer you had just placed the strawberries into inside the refrigerator also slowly opened. And as if that wasn’t enough, your sink decided it wanted to join in on the party by the faucet turning on, a healthy flow of water going right down the drain.

Okay, now you were pissed. “Oh, hell no.” You moved right over to the sink and shut it off. “First of all, we are currently under a state mandate to conserve our water so there will be no more of that.” You then moved over to grab the box of tea. “Second, if you want tea,” You stood up on your toes to place it back on its shelf and then slammed the cabinet shut. “You can go make yourself a cup somewhere else.”

You suddenly heard clicking next to you and you glanced over to see a burner come to life, the knob having been turned halfway. You watched as your tea pot was then slowly moved towards the burner, stopping short by a few inches. You immediately turned the burner off and set the teapot back in its original position. “Not happening.” You then went about shutting the produce drawer, the fridge door, and you quickly put the rest of your dry groceries away before folding the bag and slipping it into another cabinet. When you turned around, now all of your mail was all over the floor and you heard a door shut somewhere inside the house, loudly, which made you jump once more. You watched as yet again, that same kitchen drawer opened. You heard the telltale clicking sound followed by the whooshing of a flame lighting the burner and sure enough, one glance over confirmed your stove had been turned back on, the knob in the exact same position as before, and so was the teapot.

You turned the stove off and then removed the knob from its stem. “Ha, good luck turning that knob now,” you muttered, completely forgetting that there were three other burners. Suddenly, another door inside the house slammed shut so loudly you were sure the house shook. That was it. You’d had enough of this shit.

You slipped your phone out of your pocket and scanned through your recent calls, clicking on the name once you found the one you were looking for. You knew exactly who was to blame for this recent amateur attempt at a new Paranormal Activity movie starring your home, a house that until two weeks ago had been perfectly peaceful and you were the only resident. You put the call on speakerphone and waited for it to connect. As you did, you then remembered the other burners and removed those knobs, too. Another door slammed shut somewhere up above. 

“Hey,” a familiar voice answered warmly after about four rings. “I was just thinking about calling you and seeing what you were up to.”

“Bro, you need to come pick up your ghosts.”

“My what?” Jensen laughed.

“You heard me.” Another door slammed. “I don’t know what the fuck you brought with you last time you were here, but you need to come get it out.”

“Oh Y/N, are you really trying to pull a prank on me right now? I mean, technically it is your turn, I guess.”

Yet another door slammed, loud enough that you knew Jensen heard it, too. “Does it sound like I’m joking around? Seriously, come pick this shit up and bring it back to Connecticut where it belongs. Or I will never let you come back here, I swear.”

“Never?” He teased.

“Not even if you show up with pizza and twizzlers.” Your own two versions of Kryptonite that he knew well.

“Okay, first, I will never buy you Twizzlers, that crap is disgusting. Red vines only. Second, you absolutely would let me in if I showed up with a pizza, who are you kidding?”

You mulled it over for a moment, ignoring another slam upstairs. He had you there. “You’re missing the point.”

You could hear him snickering on the line and you glared at your phone, knowing full well he couldn’t see you but hoping like hell that he could feel the laser death eyes you were giving him. “And the point is?”

Suddenly, footsteps started stomping around above your head, catching your attention. “The point is, you brought something here when you visited and you need to come get it.” Another slam. “This is exactly why you should have let me smudge you before you walked in by the way.”

“Smudge me? Okay now you’re starting to sound like Danneel.”

“You know what? You’re right. I should have called her. At least she would believe me and take this seriously.” More stomping around above followed by another slam. Jesus H. Christ, had he brought some sort of bratty overdramatic energy with him this time? If you didn’t know any better, you could swear there was a teenager wreaking havoc in the upper level of your home, throwing a fit because you had the nerve to tell them no. You were almost at the point that you were ready to tell your construction guy when you called him that he also needed to remove all of the doors inside the house. Before they or their frames were ruined by the force of the consistent slamming. 

“Take it seriously? Y/N,” You heard him lower his voice. “Ghosts aren’t real. I’ve told you that. The stories we tell at the cons are just that. People love to hear it and that’s why we talk about it. But it’s not actually real.”

Before you could respond, a loud shrill of a female scream sounded throughout the house, making you jump a few feet in the air. Well, that answered that question about the supernatural teenage temper tantrum currently being thrown.  

“What the fuck? Y/N, was that you? Are you okay?” His voice raised in volume near the end and you could hear the worry clear as day. 

Okay, yeah, you were done. You pulled your keys from your pocket. “That wasn’t me,” you assured him. 

“Thank God,” he muttered. “Do you have the TV on or something?”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even bother answering that one. He obviously didn’t believe you. “I’m getting the fuck out of here. And I’m not coming back until you take this shit back with you or I get a priest to remove it or something.”

“You could always call that Zak guy.” He was making fun of you; the asshole had brought some pissed off bratty ghost to your home and he was making fun of you. 

“So I can then be told that I’m possessed by a dark energy and there’s demons hanging out in my guest room upstairs, chilling and watching Amazon Prime on my dime? No thanks.” You hurried to the back door but froze when another scream ripped through the house, sounding absolutely furious. The sound made your blood run cold.

This time, the amusement and teasing were no longer in Jensen’s tone. “Okay, you need to tell me what’s really going on over there. That sounded serious. Y/N, if this is a prank, I swear—”

“It’s not a fucking prank,” you hissed quietly, glancing back towards the hallway. The sounds had all come to a halt and there was nothing now but an ominous silence. 

“Why are you talking so quietly? Is someone—”

“Shhh!” 

You waited for the other shoe to drop. Without thinking about it, you began facetiming, pointing the phone towards the doorway of the kitchen. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jensen trying to determine what he was looking at, all traces of his earlier humor gone. 

“Y/N,” he asked quietly. “What am I looking for? Do you need me to call the police?”

You shushed him again, waiting, your gaze focused on the hallway that led to the stairs. Something didn’t feel right. There was no way everything just came to a halt, not after that flurry of activity. Sure enough, you heard a sound that sent chills throughout your body and ice through your veins, leaving you frozen in fear. Loud footsteps slowly started coming down the stairs. So loud that even Jensen heard them. 

But you were so terrified you barely heard Jensen telling you to get out of the house now. You also didn’t notice how badly your hand was trembling, causing the picture on your phone to tremble along with it.  

You had wondered earlier if someone had broken into your home and here you were about to find out but… Things moving around in front of you that you couldn’t explain was one thing. The stove being turned on, doors being slammed, and angry screams were another (though that would be enough to be anyone’s breaking point). But actual fucking heavy footsteps making their way toward you…no, fucking no.

When the footsteps came to the last stair and then stopped, your heart stopped along with it. Even Jensen had gone quiet, either waiting with you to see what would happen or refusing to give away your position to whoever he thought was in your house. The terror you felt was unlike anything you had ever experienced. Every cell in your body screamed at you to get out of there, telling you there was danger, but you couldn’t move. You were even holding your breath, not wanting to make a sound.  

Just then, heavy footsteps started rushing right at you and you shrieked, bolting out of the house. Just as you made it down the porch steps, the door slammed shut behind you, making you jump once more. You spun around to see if anyone had followed you but there was no one. 

“Y/N, are you okay? Hey, talk to me! Are you alright?” Jensen sounded desperate. “That’s it, I’m calling the cops.”

“Don’t! Just g-give me a second,” you rushed out, still trying to catch your breath. You lifted the phone back up, pointing it in the direction of your back door. You leaned forward a little bit, still trying to see if there was anyone when suddenly the door flew open.

“Y/N, get out of there now!” 

You didn’t hear anything else Jensen had to say because your eyes were wide at what you were seeing. No one was standing there and no one was hiding behind the wall because you had windows that could see into the kitchen. And what you saw was making your brain want to shut down. All of the cabinets were open and objects from inside were flying out at an alarming rate. You heard glasses and plates breaking, crashes, thuds — the works. Your fridge doors blasted open and things were being thrown out into the room. There went the strawberries you just bought, the vegetables, the eggs....every single item inside was now somewhere on your kitchen floor. Then the envelopes from earlier were tossed out onto the porch in your direction as well as the teapot and burner knobs from your stove. An angry scream resounded in the kitchen before the back door slammed shut once more.  

Seeing the knobs suddenly brought you back into the moment and your brain started to work again. Now that you were safely out of the house, your irritation returned with a vengeance. “You want to be like that?” You yelled at the house. “Fine! You pay the fucking mortgage then!”

Another scream sounded but instead of being scared, you waved a dismissive hand at the house and stormed towards your car. You got in and placed the phone into its cradle on the dash, turning the lens around so Jensen could see you. Relief began to wash over his features when he did, though he seemed a little paler than normal. Whether that was because of what he’d just seen along with you or the fury he now saw in your expression, you couldn’t be sure. And truthfully, you didn’t give a shit; you were pissed.

“Are you okay?” He asked as you started the engine.

“Am I okay?” You growled. “I have a squatter ghost who just took over my home, one you brought there when it hitched a ride from your haunted mansion so no, Jensen, I am not okay.” You buckled your seatbelt and then backed out of your driveway. “That is the absolute last time I let you inside my house.” Remembering his teasing from minutes before, you quickly added, “And all of the pizza in the goddamn world is not going to change my mind.”

“Not even if I was willing to buy Twizzlers just this once?”

You shot him a glare and he laughed though it sounded like a mixture of relief and nervousness. He had seen everything you had seen through that window; there was no denying that, though he might still try. And while you could understand he was trying to make you feel better by making light of the scary situation you had just been in, that didn’t take away from the fact that this was all his fault. You had told him to state firmly to the ghosts at his place that they weren’t allowed to follow him when he called to tell you a few weeks back that he had a con near your area so he’d be dropping by to visit. And what had he done? Rolled his eyes, laughed at your expense, and told you that he wasn’t doing that. After all, ghosts aren’t real. Even when Danneel had told you about the strange events happening the last time you visited them at their new home, Jensen had simply shook his head and rationalized every single occurrence she had mentioned. He didn’t believe in that paranormal stuff. An odd statement for a man who had spent fifteen years fighting a fictional version of almost every mythical supernatural creature there was from folklore. He had given you a mock glare when you pointed that one out and then he promptly changed the subject. 

And then the asshole (affectionate) just had to keep his word, stopping by to say hi while he was in town for a convention and bringing the aforementioned pizza along with some of his beer for a Top Gun marathon, and now you were out of a home. At least until you could get the place exorcized or cleansed or ghost-bombed or something. And that didn’t even include the huge mess you were going to have to clean up, the repairs your construction guy was going to have to make...all because he refused to humor you. Even if he thought you were a fries short of a Happy Meal when it came to this subject, you wished he would just listen to you. Just. Once.

“Look, I’ll find a local cleaning crew and get it all cleaned up.” You must have said that last part aloud without realizing it. “Where are you headed right now?”

“Where else? I’m looking for a church.” You came to a stoplight, turning your right blinker on as you waited for the color to change.    

“I still don’t—”

“Jensen, I swear, if you tell me you still don’t think ghosts are real and that you didn’t bring anything to my house after I specifically asked you not to…” You trailed off, unable to continue speaking because you were so pissed off. You had dishes, cups, and glasses to replace. You had to have all of your doors, their frames, your drawers and cabinets looked at. Based on what you had seen, your kitchen could be flooded in your absence or your house could burn down somehow. You were incredibly pissed — absolutely furious.

“Alright, I’m sending you a care package of Twizzlers,” he decided. “I think they even have Twizzler bouquets actually.” As if that would suddenly make everything okay in your world.

“Better not send it to the house. That is one thing I refuse to give up to the supernatural. Besides, are you seriously trying to bribe me with candy right now?”

“Uh, is it working?” 

Your jaw tightened. “There better be a lot and they better be huge.” 

A smirk settled on his face. “When you say huge—”

“Don’t,” you cut off the inevitable dirty joke. “I still have yet to decide whether I forgive you after being chased out of my house by a ghost who then proceeded to break all of my shit. A ghost that you brought there may I continue to remind you.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” He muttered. At your sharp glare, he suddenly changed his tune. “Okay, what can I do? Who do you want me to call? Do you want me to have my people reach out to the Zak guy and his people and put you in touch with his crew? Because I will if that’s what you want me to do.”

“Nope. I want you to say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know.” You quickly arched an expectant brow at him. “It’s the only thing that’s going to make me feel better right now.”

“Yeah, I’m not saying that.”

You heaved a long sad sigh for dramatic effect, shaking your head as you prepared to lay it on thick. “You don’t want to make me feel better? After everything I just went through because of you? That is a crying shame. C’est la vie. We had a good run, you and I. You had a genuine ROD right here.” You held a hand over your heart.

“Alright, alright,” he groaned. “Cut the dramatics. You’d think you were the one acting for a living.”

You gave him a triumphant smirk. “Say it.”

This time, he was the one who sighed heavily. “Are you sure the Twizzlers aren’t enough?”

“Nope.”

“Even if I get you one of those huge boxes from Amazon?” He asked knowingly. “And the rainbow ones?” Dammit. He knew you only too well.

“I’m still not letting you off the hook but like I said before, it better be a big one after the paranormal meltdown that just happened. We’re talking huge.” 

“Not even touching that one,” he laughed. “But don’t worry, it’ll be the biggest one you’ve ever seen.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes which made him continue snickering. “Oh my God, why are we friends again?” You moved into the left lane as you began scanning the road, looking for any signs of a church nearby. You lived in this area, sure, but you weren’t exactly a regular visitor to any type of services. You took your Sundays to rest just like the good book said.

“Because I’m that lucky.”

You arched a brow at him. “First, bribery. Now, flattery. What’s next? Blackmail?”

“One of those things doesn’t sound like the others but far be it from me to point that out to you.”

You shot him a sharp look.

“Alright, listen, while we’ve been talking, I booked you a room at a hotel twenty minutes away. I’m sending your disgusting fake licorice crap there. I also looked up churches in the area. There’s one that’s about fifteen minutes out from the house. I’m sending you the address right now. And because I am the most awesome friend on the planet, I just texted Danneel and asked her to send you the psychic’s info who she worked with back in NOLA.” 

“You got all of that done in the last five minutes?” At his cocky smirk, you gave him a nod of approval. “Impressive.”

“Thank you. Now, I only have one question for you.” 

You arched your brows at him expectantly. 

“Am I forgiven yet?”

You had to think about that one for a moment. Your earlier fury had abated some the further away you got from your house but still, you had been chased out by some unseen force, unable to return until you got help to deal with this situation. But Jensen had also tried to be helpful and he had also been generous, patient, supportive, and overall kind while you had one of the truly most terrifying moments in your life thus far. 

“Depends.”

“On?”

“If I get this taken care of, will you let me smudge you before you walk into my house the next time you visit?”

Suddenly, a huge smile erupted onto his face. “You know, I’m really starting to think that phrasing is code for something else.” The teasing was back.

You rolled your eyes. “Nice try. You know it’s not code for anything except what I said. Now, no more deflecting. Are you willing to be smudged pre-entry?”

“Again, I—”

“Jensen Ross Ackles!” You could feel your cheeks heating up. Okay, yeah, your wording could use some work, not that you were about to admit that out loud. “Focus,” you hissed.

He snickered before letting out a sigh and shaking his head. “If it’ll make you feel better,” he capitulated. 

You gave him a nod, smiling triumphantly. “Good. I’m going to hold you to that. No pizza required by the way. And you are so lucky because I was going to say you’re not allowed past the door unless it’s half pineapple…”

His face screwed up in disgust. “Ugh.”

“And half mushroom.”

“Come on! Fruit and fungus on pizza? Why not just throw in some ranch dressing while you’re at it?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing how much those two toppings grossed him out. Which was precisely why you ordered them each time you two had pizza. Eventually, he started making you get your own pie to which you made sure he had to hear just how much you enjoyed every bite. “Got a big bottle of it in the fridge. Or at least I did.” You turned a glare on him.

“Okay, okay. Smudging. Got it. Are you on your way to the church?”

“Pulling in now,” you confirmed as you made a right turn into the church parking lot. “Thanks for that, by the way. And for everything else. You know, minus the pissy ghost.”

“You got it,” he chuckled. “Alright, text me when you’re done and let me know what they said.”

“Will do.” You brought the car to a stop and switched the ignition off. “And, Ackles?”

“Yeah?”

You just couldn’t resist getting in one last tease. “Fifteen years of fake ghost hunting and you didn’t tell me to grab salt once? That’s disappointing.”

He was now the one glaring which made you laugh. “Last I checked, someone didn’t think to grab the salt once either. For someone who watched the show for fifteen years, that’s disappointing.”

“Touche,” you laughed. “But wow, Dean didn’t come out at all? Not once?”

The eyeroll he unleashed made you snicker. “Don’t you have an appointment you need to be getting to?”

You stuck your tongue out at him and grabbed the phone. “Alright, Mr. Touchy Pants. I’ll talk to you after.”

“Touchy Pants?” He laughed. “Y/N, seriously, what is going through that heads of yours?”

“Goodbye,” you rushed out before disconnecting the call and cutting off his laughter. You shook your head and then glanced at the church in front of you. It had been a long time since you had been to one of these but your house had become Ghost Central now thanks to a certain six foot Red-Vine loving (which was still incomprehensible to you) Texan. You took a deep breath and then got out of the car, proceeding up the walkway to the entrance, hoping like hell that someone here would be able to perform some sort of cleansing ritual so you could get your house back. The season finale of House of the Dragon was on tonight after all and there was no way you were missing that on your huge TV with the movie theater sound system that you had saved up over a year for. Dick ghost or not. No way in hell.

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[superblysubpar]

12 days of Xmas request:Friends to lovers.

Snowed in alone w Eddie at either his place or yours. Power goes out, no heat. Spend a couple of hours huddled together like eskimos but come nightfall, it’s unbearably cold. And, well, huddling becomes cuddling, cuddling becomes….“how do you think we’re gonna get warm if you’re trying to take my pants off!”

There is still one spot left in my twelve days event if you’d like to request something - no need for it to be Christmas themed, winter activities/stories are more than welcomed too. The playlist so far is linked at the end of the story. Let me know what you think, any interaction is so appreciated and loved! 

Summary: see above ask for summary, I couldn’t help myself and I wrote smut for @boomhauer in an apology for all my joe keery/steve photo blasting lately. I hope you like it! Eddie Munson x you, use of Y/N and petname baby, slight fingering (reader receiving, eddie performing), unprotected PIV intercourse/creampie, coming so fast it'll give you whiplash | This post is NSFW and contains smut so 18+ only

A/N: So sorry this is late, I ended up having a busy weekend and was unable to edit/post from my phone. I hope it was worth the wait! Also, I promise if you don’t like this song, it’s not a creepy fic. It’s just two idiots snuggling in a sleeping bag together that leads to a good time. No coercion I promise. All consensual. 

2.5k words

Day 06 | Track 06: “Baby It’s Cold Outside” by Dean Martin

You thought when your aunt offered up their cabin for a winter getaway it sounded like a great idea. A much needed vacation for the group of you older kids. To be away from Hawkins and the young ones and just be kids yourselves again for a little bit. 

As you watched the sky turn darker, purple tint falling across everything as the white snow fell in what seemed like heapfuls, it’s only mission in life to attack and annihilate the planet, you started to think it was actually the start of a terrible horror movie. 

So far, you were the only one there, your parents dropping you off on their way to their own vacation. You let the curtain fall in front of the window as you searched the cabin, deciding that knowing where extra blankets, candles, and the liquor cabinet was located were all becoming drastically more likely to be of use. 

You were pulling on another sweater and wool socks when the phone rang and you ran to it, sliding a little on the cabin’s wood floors, answering it breathlessly, “Hello?”

Static filled the other side and you tried again, “Hello?”

“Oh! Y/N! Thank god!” Robin’s voice was crackling and you pushed the phone closer to your ear like that would help.

“Robs, I can barely hear you-” more static that made you pull back a little.

“Steve and I are stuck in a little town not too far…” static took over her words, trailing in and out of a coherent sentence, “motel. Eddie should…” and then the line went dead. 

Eddie should what? Should have been here by now? Was she going to say shouldn’t have and then what?

Your fingers started to itch as you realized the phone was completely dead, no static or dial tone. You looked around and the lamps you had clicked on were all out.

Oh shit. Totally a horror movie.

Glad you had in fact located extra candles, you started to light them as the cabin started to fall into darkness and then you heard a loud bang and froze. 

You were alone in a cabin, stuck in a snowstorm with no transportation, and the power went out. You were the idiot who got killed off first and all of your friends would still come up the following day, unsure of what happened and get sucked into the plot of the movie, all running from whoever or whatever got you first.

You grabbed the closest thing to you as you heard the thudding get louder, the door swung open and you lunged towards the figure in the door who was screaming right back at you.

Hands up in the air and large brown eyes blinking at you and you stopped, a box of macaroni noodles suspended in the air as you tried to catch your breath. It was just Eddie.

You threw the box of noodles at him anyways, “Don’t do that! I could have killed you!”

Eddie had his hand over his heart, catching his own breath, but he caught the box with a lopsided grin on his face, “With uncooked pasta?”

You crossed your arms, the sudden chill he let in reminding you that you didn’t have heat anymore and frowned, “Shut up.”

Eddie looked around at the candles and his smile fell, “Fucking hell. Do we not have power?”

You shook your head, “Just went out. Robin called me and-”

“Are they okay? I lost them when we stopped for gas, Steve’s little BMW should not be driving in that shit.”

You nodded and moved your way to the living room, “Yeah from what I could hear, it sounded like they stopped at a motel. So just us tonight I think.”

Eddie smirked as he removed his snow covered outer layers, pushing a duffle bag across the floor. 

You looked at the unlit fireplace and asked, “What? What’s so funny?”

Eddie laughed as he hung up his coat, “Oh just Harrington and Buck stuck in a snowstorm in a tiny motel room. I feel like I’d pay money to watch how that all unfolds, arguing over TV channels, sides of the bed, all that,” he came over to the fireplace, “Plus, you know, we’re definitely living the plot of a horror movie.”

You groaned and rubbed at your cold cheeks, “Don’t say that, I was already thinking that before you got here. I’m the first dumb girl to go.”

Eddie started to poke around in the fireplace and chuckled, “Nah, you’re the first girl. You’re the one who makes it out in the end. Movie ends with you covered in the blood of some crazy monster or serial killer that you defeated in some revenge plot for killing your…”

He trailed off and you tried to calm your heart down, because Eddie saying you were the badass who lived in a horror film over everyone may have been a throwaway comment to him, but for you it was the greatest compliment and you were swooning a little. 

His tongue was out as he concentrated on lighting the logs when the familiar woosh of the flame catching filled the small cabin and his lips fell into a smug and confident smile, you had to turn away from how cute he was. You grabbed all the extra blankets you could find and dumped them in front of the fireplace. He looked at the blankets, the fireplace and then around at all of the candles before his eyes landed on you. Both of you turning away from the other quickly, him mumbling something about changing. 

You tried not to focus on Eddie’s movements as you unrolled your sleeping bag, tucking more blankets into it and over it. As he left and walked down the hall, you took the liberty of unfolding his sleeping bag and went down the hall to change yourself. 

Shivering from being away from the fire for only a few minutes, you returned to find Eddie starting to zip into his sleeping bag, a plain sweater and sweatpants, you had never seen him so casual before, like his layers of defense were gone. 

You tucked yourself in and no matter how you rearranged the blankets, you were freezing. 

You listened as Eddie was doing the same, and you were fairly certain he could hear your teeth chattering.

“Y/N?” 

You rolled to see only his big brown eyes blinking at you, the flames of the firelight flickering in them and his nose poked out, a little pink. You shook from your shivering and he closed his eyes before blowing out his breath, “Okay, I’m totally not trying to be a perv, but would you want to share sleeping bags? I feel like it would help.”

You knew he was right, but the thought of you and Eddie sharing a sleeping bag was overwhelming. But as your teeth clinked together you found yourself nodding. He slowly unzipped his and you crawled in, careful to keep your arms from drifting past his elbows and facing him, chests and legs pressed together but both of you rigid against the other’s body. 

You pulled your sleeping bag and the blankets around you both and already it was better, the heat from the fire on your forehead and Eddie’s breath on your cheek. You pressed your hands tighter, curling up against his chest and looked up at him through your lashes, whispering, “Is this okay?”

He nodded and cleared his throat, arm wrapping around your waist, “This?”

You nodded and took a deep breath, the scent of Eddie’s soapy laundry detergent filling your nose and making you a little dizzy, nose pressed to his collar. 

You inched a little closer, risking the movement of your legs tangling in his a bit, pressing your cheek to his chest and listened to his heart beating rapidly underneath it. You smiled at the thought of him being just as nervous as you and wrapped one of your arms around his waist too, fingers touching the skin on his lower back where his shirt had raised a little. 

He sucked in his breath and you started to pull away, “Sorry, too cold or-”

He pulled you closer, “No! I mean,” his cheeks were pink, and he cleared his throat again, “No, just surprised me. It’s good. It’s nice.”

He was babbling and you scooted closer again. Listening to the fire crackle, Eddie’s heartbeat and breathing slowing, you felt your eyelashes fluttering together. You started to move your fingers up and down Eddie’s spine and he hummed a little, arms wrapping around you tighter.

His own fingers were buzzing small circles into your lower back and you shivered, and didn’t argue when Eddie whispered, “Still cold?” 

You felt him pull your arm away and before you could protest at the lack of contact, he was rolling you, back to his chest and curling you into him, both of his arms wrapped around you and your legs tangled together. 

His breath on your neck and close to your ear as he whispered, “Better?”

You gasped at the heat of his breath on your skin and nuzzled back into him as you nodded. His fingers splayed across your stomach and thigh and you pushed your hips back into him. Your skin was buzzing with electricity, Eddie’s breath in your ear doing something to you that you’d never felt before. You were on the verge of making a needy, whimpering noise when you felt his hardening length pressing into your ass.

You rolled your hips back into him slowly and he nudged against you, fingers continuing to leave a buzzing trail on your stomach and through the layers on your hips. His breath continued to fan up and down your neck. A teasing game you were playing, your hips rocking into him like it could be an accident, him nudging back against you, but the more you kept doing it, you both knew it was on purpose. Bodies slowly pushing closer together and hips rolling against one another. Your heartbeat pounding in your chest and underwear growing wetter as you both slowly grinded into each other.

His nose nudged just under your ear, his lips grazing your skin and your hand laced itself into his, and you arched your back into him, pulling his fingers to your waistband.

You pushed his hand past the layers, thick fingers sliding through your slick easily and you shivered against him, guiding his other hand to your hip and rocking against his fingers moving up and down through your wetness. 

You heard him whisper so quietly, that if his mouth hadn’t been directly behind your ear you wouldn’t have heard him, “fuck me, is this really happening?”

You giggled and wrapped your fingers back into his hair, pulling him to your neck harder, his lips traveling up and down it. You moaned as he nipped at your skin before sucking a bruise into you as his fingers pushed into you deeper. 

Removing his lips from the new mark and trailing down your jaw, he whispered into your skin, “You know, I think I read somewhere that if you take your clothes off, your bodies can-”

You started to pull down your bottom half layers and you felt his fingers still and you grabbed his wrist, pushing him to keep moving and he started babbling into your neck, “Oh my-fuck, okay, you sure?”

You laughed and pushed yourself into his erection, rolling your hips as his fingers continued to glide through your folds, not sure what else to show him how you wanted this desperately so you said, “Yes, Eddie. Gonna take your pants off now or…?”

He nodded into your neck, shimming his sweats down, and you shivered as he slid between your thighs, both of you a little breathless. He reached up and turned your chin, eyes wide and concerned and you knew he was going to be sweet and ask you if you were sure again.

You rolled your eyes and pressed your lips to his and you felt him relax, sighing into your mouth. He pulled away and brushed the hair from your neck, pushing his tip through your folds and into your entrance slowly.

Eddie pushed deeper, both of you gasping at how your walls clutched him tighter, his fingers splayed across your hip, digging into your skin and dragging you up and down slowly and to your delight, he whined into your ear. 

Bodies slowly grinding together, Eddie’s hips rocking up into you, his breath hot on your neck and ear, his hand squeezed your hip once more before trailing up your side till he reached your chest, cupping one of your breasts.

Your eyelids were fluttering closed, the feeling of Eddie sliding in and out of you slowly as his breath buzzed into your skin was sending you into a euphoric state. Eddie pressed more kisses into your neck as his hand traveled back down your stomach.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last,” he gasped against you and you whined, arching your body away from him, needing more and also already feeling like it was too much. 

Eddie’s fingers pulled some of your slick up and to your clit, pressing soft figure eights into it as his hips started to thrust up into you faster, pulling your leg over atop his, spreading you wider for him. 

You clutched the blankets, the arousal and tension that had been building for too long threatening to snap, “Eddie, please, fuck!” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, wanting him to slow down and go faster all at once. 

He gripped your hip as his other hand worked faster into your swollen bundle of nerves, his thrusts hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you and his breath was hot in your ear as he groaned, “I know, come on, let go for me baby.”

His voice in your ear was the tipping point of no return, his thrusts started to stutter as you screamed out his name, his lips and nose nudging down your neck as his finger continued to swirl and press into you softly. Your orgasm crashing into you both at the same time, tightening around him as you cried out and his hot ropes of cum painted your walls. Both of you were breathless, panting against one another. 

Eddie kissed your neck and laughed a little, “Now is definitely when the killer comes in.”

You smacked his hip, “Eddie!”

You felt his smile against your neck as his arms wrapped around you tighter, despite you being as close as you could be still, and he whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

His lips brushed down to your collar, fingers tracing soft circles on your bare hip and his nose nudged at your shirt, whispering, “I really did read something about keeping warm without clothes on,” his lips brushed up to your ear again and he squeezed his arm around your waist as he whispered, “It’s only going to get colder outside, baby.”

Twelve Days of Christmas Playlist:

[takemebacktocaitlyn]

Daddy Vessel

A/N: I just had the want and need to write a cute little Vessel post. This is just how I feel he would be if his s/o had a daughter from a previous relationship. Because this man seemed like the gentlest of giants❤️ (when he isn’t being an utter gremlin towards everyone else).

TW: None at all. Just a lot of fluff going on.

(Also, basically, there really isn’t a need to write the pairings for this, but it’s a Vessel x fem!Reader one. And reader’s daughter is named Emma.)

—————————————————————

“Are you sure he’ll like it, mama?”

You looked down at your daughter to see that she was not looking at you, but at the handmade card her art teacher had them make for their fathers today at school, a deep frown on her usually cheerful face. Father’s Day was this weekend and you had never seen a more perplexed eight-year-than Emma. And she had been that way since you had picked her up from school.

Emma was your daughter from a previous relationship. Her father was never really much of a father, so when the relationship ended you felt relieved. Only you felt bad for your daughter because she would never have that father-daughter experience like you had hoped, seeing as she was three when you and your ex-boyfriend had split up. Or so you thought she would never experience it. When your daughter was four you met a man named Vessel, and it was automatic love at first sight. Vessel fell in love fast with Emma, and Emma to Vessel.

Vessel knew of Emma’s father after many of stories you had told him over the years. And yet, even if he was a sad excuse of a man that refused to be part of such a wonderful child’s life, there was a part of him that did not want to overstep any boundaries. Parenthood was a foreign thing to him and he never thought he would experience it, but it changed once the two of you became part of his world—his life.

Emma had never once called Vessel “daddy” or “dad” in the four years you two had been together, and she settled on “Vessie.” Being she was the only one allowed to call him that. Vessel never pushed for her to call him anything she was not comfortable with or wanted. She viewed him as a father figure and that was enough for him.

You smiled and crouched down so you were eye level with Emma. She looked up at you with her blue eyes. You cupped her cheeks gently in your hands and bent her head down some, and placing a kiss to her forehead. Emm took a step back some so she could look at you again. Your hands still holding her cheeks.

“He’s going to love it, baby,” you reassured her as you let her cheeks go. You still smiled at her. “He loves anything you make him.”

“But…what if he doesn’t love this one this time?” Emma looked at the card on her hands again. “What…what if it makes him leave like my actual daddy did?”

“Emma, look at me.” She slowly looks at you again. And it pained you to see the worry and fear on your daughter’s face. You reached out and tucked a loose strain of black hair behind her ear. “Vessel will never leave you like that, okay? Mama can promise you that. And whatever you wrote in that card, he is going to love it like any other thing you’ve ever made him. Maybe he’ll even love this more than the four leaf clover drawing you made him for when he goes on the road.”

Emma giggled at that. “I don’t think so. He got it tattooed on him, mama, remember?”

How could you forget?

Emma had randomly drawn—more like colored—a picture of a four leaf clover one weekend. She was about five or six at the time and had been coloring and drawing that whole morning. And she had randomly crawled up into Vessel’s lap as the two of you sat cuddled up on the couch, and held the picture up to him with a wide smile on her chubby cheeked face. Vessel took it and settled Emma to rest comfortably against his chest and he looked at it, a smile on his face as well.

“What is this, my sweet girl?” He asked her. Of course, Vessel knew it was a four leaf clover but how he enjoyed allowing Emma to become excited explaining things. “You colored me a picture, did you?”

Emma nodded her head. “I did, Vessie!” She smiled bigger of that was even possible. She pointed a little finger at the picture. “It’s a four leaf clover. It gives you good luck!”

Vessel hummed in amusement. “Does it now, Bug?”

Emma giggled, “Yes! And it’ll give you good luck when you go do shows.”

“Well, thank you, Emma.” Vessel kissed the top of her head and Emma snuggled more into him. He looked at the picture some more. “I’m going to take this with me everywhere I go.”

And did that man mean that literally. Because that same day he had left for a few hours to the studio to run a few things over with II, III and IV. And when he came back that might, Emma had gone to bed by then, he showed you where he had gotten the clover tattooed on his bicep. He said even if no one else but a few knew it was there he was fine with it, because he knew it was there and it meant everything to him.

Vessel had also gotten it on his upper bicep because the jacket he wore on stage would cover it, and he would not have to cover it with the black paint he dawned himself in for each performance.

“Oh, right,” You smiled, “I forgot. Silly me.”

Emma giggled once more before you raised to full height again. You took her free hand in yours again and the two of you walked to the door of your flat. It was Vessel’s before you two had gotten together, but after a few months of dating, and several mentions and negotiations, he had you and Emma moved in.

You opened the door and allowed Emma to go in first, you closed the door as you entered. You both removed your shoes at the door and placed them on the tiny bench. The sound of pots and pans could be heard from the kitchen and you smiled. You had told Vessel you would handle dinner tonight and not to worry about it, you did not mind, only for him to firmly state he would since you had to run a few errands after work before picking Emma up.

When Vessel was home, you tried to allow him to relax much as you could. And you also tried to spend as much time with him as you could. But Vessel always had a mind of his own. Anything he thought he could help out with, no matter how tired he was, or how much his body craved just to melt into the couch, he was up doing it. Whether it was helping clean, laundry, helping Emma with her homework, helping you relax in the many various ways he knew how (wink, wink, wink) and like now, where you had told him not to worry, he is in the kitchen cooking.

Now, you would never complain about his help, you adored that he bent over backwards for you and Emma, the same as you did for the both of them, but sometimes you really wish he would just allow himself to relax.

“We’re home, baby,” You announced as you and Emma walked into the kitchen. Vessel stood by the stove and you allowed your eyes to scan over him. He was shirtless and wearing a pair of sweatpants, which hung a little low on his hips, barefoot and there was a hand towel thrown over his left shoulder. You let Emma’s hand go so you could fold your arms over your chest. “I thought I told you not to worry about dinner?”

“And I told you that I would handle it,” Vessel replied as he turned to look at you. He placed the hand towel on the counter before walking over to you and your daughter. He placed his large hands on your hips and pulled you to him gently, you unfolded your arms and wrapped them around his neck. Vessel brushed his nose against yours before giving you a sweet kid on your lips. The two of you kept the kiss going, sweet and slow, almost forgetting where you two were, until a small blegh from Emma broke you two apart. Vessel chuckled before turning his attention towards the small girl. He smiled, “Hey, my sweet Bug, how was school?”

“It was fine,” Emma answered him. She reached her hand that held her handmade card behind her back, and put her other one behind her back as well. She had hoped Vessel had seen it before she did it. You noticed but didn’t say anything. Emma would show him at her own time.

“Learn anything new?” Vessel asked as he ruffled Emma’s hair, causing a laugh and a protest from the small girl.

Emma shrugged. “I learned I still don’t like math and we learned how volcanoes are made and how they work.”

“Well isn’t that something!” Vessel leaned down and kissed the top of Emma’s head before turning to walk back to the stove. “You two go get settled and I’ll finish dinner.”

You and Emma both went ahead and did your normally nightly routine. Before you two bathed, you helped Emma with what homework she did bring home. You were silently happy it was not a lot. After that, Emma showered and then you showered. And by the time you had finished with your shower, Vessel was done with dinner.

All three of you sat together at the kitchen table, eating like the tiny family you were. All revealing what your days were like and some of the highlights of it. For you, a coworker had surprised everyone with coffee and scones this morning, for Emma, her and her best friend Malachi had managed to climb all the way to the top of the slide at recess(it was a triumph for the two eight year olds but you had to talk with her teacher about that) and finally for Vessel, the highlight of his day came from making III eat crow while playing against him. Something about III had been gloating he for a while how he beats all of them in this one game, and Vessel took up the challenge and beat him in under a few minutes. You rolled your eyes but laughed and shook your head. You knew your boyfriend well enough at this point that he would not pass up any opportunity to rub it in III’s face.

After dinner, you and Vessel cleaned up the kitchen and both tackled the dishes. Emma had offered to help, but Vessel told her it was okay, and the small girl had went to her room. Once the kitchen was cleaned, you and Vessel had retired to the living room and both sat snuggled up on the couch, a movie playing on the television as you two relaxed together for the night.

The both of you heard Emma’s door to her bedroom opened, followed by slow shuffling feet. Soon the small figure of your daughter came into view.

“What’s up, Bug?” Vessel asked her. “Everything okay?”

Emma nodded her head and said nothing. She held out the handmade card towards him and Vessel took it from her gently. Emma sighed before speaking, “We made Father’s Day cards in art today.”

Vessel looked at the card in his hands before looking over at you. You smiled softly and nodded your head. Vessel smiled back and then turned to look at Emma. “Come here, Bug.”

Emma had stated many times she was too big to sit in his lap anymore, claiming she was a big kid now and big kids don’t sit in their parents laps. But, on certain days, like when she was sick or something was bothering her she took that statement back and sat in either your lap or Vessel’s, needing that familiar comfort.

A warm smile spread across your face as you watched Emma crawl into Vessel’s lap and watched as she snuggled against him. And Vessel, on instinct, settling her so she could sit and lay against him comfortably.

Vessel looked at the card in his hands, seeing how Emma used her hands to draw handprints on the sky blue construction paper. And in a glittery font, her small handwriting wrote: “Happy Father’s Day!”

“Mrs. Cunningham helped me find a little saying,” Emma informed Vessel as he started opening the card. Inside, Emma had drawn her hands on both sides of the folded paper. And written on one side in her handwriting was the saying, and a smile spread on Vessel’s face reading it. The card read:

My Vessel’s Hands

My Vessel’s hand are strong

And they’re big and they’re tough.

But when I need help

They’re gentle enough.

My Vessel’s hands can teach me

To work and give.

And by their example

I’ll learn how to live.

Right now my hands are small

And learning good from bad.

Some day I hope my hands

Will be just like my Vessel’s hands!

And underneath it all, a red and pink heart was there, and inside of it was something that made Vessel’s heart swell and his eyes tear up. In Emma’s handwriting read:

I love you, Daddy Vessel!

“Do you like it?” Emma asked after a few minutes. She was playing with her fingers and you could tell she was nervous. Vessel could tell as well.

Vessel placed the card on the lamp table beside the couch, and wrapped his arms around Emma, hugging her tightly to him. You watched as he took his thumb and pointer finger and he rubbed his eyes with them, wiping away the evidence of the tears that threatened to spill out. He kissed the top of her head before lifting her head up and kissing her forehead.

"I love it," Vessel told her softly. "I love it so much, my sweet girl."

Emma smiled big before wrapping her tiny arms around Vessel's neck. Vessel in turn hugged her tightly to him. And you smiled, resting one of her cheeks into your hand as you watched the two loves of your life. It made your eyes water with happy tears and made your heart swell with so much love.

The three of you sat on the couch together watching the movie, Emma still snuggled into Vessel's chest as you were snuggled into his side. And after a while, both Emma and Vessel had dozed off to sleep. His head was tilted back as his arms still held Emma protectively, and Emma was still snuggled into his chest. You smiled at them and carefully got up from the couch, wrapping them both in the throw blanket you were just wrapped up in the best you could. You placed soft kisses to both Emma and Vessel's cheeks before making your ways to the stairs, heading to yours and Vessel's shared bedroom.

You were not going to wake them, you knew at some point Vessel would and he would lay Emma down in her own room before making his way to bed with you, but for now you were going to let them be. Emma snuggled up to Vessel and Vessel holding her to him.

The image of the father-daughter relationship you thought would never happen for your daughter, playing out in front of you as you watched your daughter and boyfriend slumber. You shook your head with a smile.

"Goodnight, my loves," You spoke softly before turning the living room light off, only leaving the television as the light source, as you made your way up the stairs for the night, leaving Emma and her Daddy Vessel to their peaceful state.

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

So, this was not my best, but I really just wanted to write something cute. And I haven't really written stuff in a while. This was just to get the itch off. But, um, yeah. Bye bye now!

[primalmagic]

letters written in incognito (2/3)

(chapter 1 can be found here. tw for a minor panic attack)

Tyler is doing… better.

Would he be doing even better if he stopped pushing himself to his limits and actually took a break? Maybe. But it’s Tyler. Taylor knows no amount of convincing will get her brother to listen to anything she has to say.

She doesn’t really know what she was expecting, but nothing has changed . The love letter took a seat at the back of her brain, and remained there. Honestly, she’d have completely forgotten about it if it wasn’t for Aiden’s text earlier in the morning- screaming for answers.

Well, that was a lie. A few things changed. For starters, Taylor found herself swearing quite a bit nowadays. There just always seemed to be a fitting occasion for it, and she wasn’t exactly the best at thinking before she spoke. It just… came out. 

And another thing, Ben.

Maybe she was imagining it, but something was off .

He would hardly look in her direction all day, speeding past her in the hallways and ignoring her texts over the weekend. Maybe, maybe, she was thinking about it too hard. Maybe he was busy, or embarrassed about whatever happened Friday night (Taylor wished she could say she was too- but all she could think of was how badly she wanted it to happen again). She really hopes nothing is wrong.

The morning goes by faster than normal, and soon she finds herself sitting down at their usual lunch table.

Today, however, all eyes are on her .

Aiden’s the first to talk, flicking a soggy fry in her direction, “Talk. Now.”

She stutters, pretending she doesn’t know what they’re talking about, “What- uh-”

Logan kicks her in the shin, “The letter? Or did you forget what you texted the group chat on Friday? Cruel, by the way. Making us wait the whole weekend? Absolutely evil. Didn’t know you had it in you, Tay.” He glares at her in scrutiny, but she knows him well enough to understand that he’s joking.

Right. The letter.

She groans, pulling it out of her backpack, ignoring her friend’s shocked stares.

When she brings it out, they all speak at once.

“You KEPT it??”

“Give me that.”

“Oh my god, I thought you were joking.”

“ Finally!” (From Tyler, because Taylor had been adamant on not telling him anything until everyone was there. Even though we literally live in the same goddamn house, Tay…)

She sighs, passing it to Logan, “See for yourself.”

Logan scans the page, eyes widening as he reads through the last lines, “No fucking way.”

Aiden snatches it from his hand, sending him a withering glance, “Way to make me more on edge, Lo. Gimme that thing!”

They wait as he examines it (For such a fast talker, Aiden reads slow ), and Taylor taps at the table anxiously. 

Aiden looks up, eyes wide, and for the first time in forever , he has nothing to say.

Until he does, obviously.

“No way. I mean, not in a bad way- you’re, uh, you’re a wonderful person, Tay. And you like, obviously deserve this and if anyone was to get a secret, anonymous love letter, I’d definitely be you. But also. Holy shit.”

“Language,” Ashlyn mutters, only seeming slightly intrigued. It seems as if she’s more into the chaos than the actual matter on hand.

Aiden flails his hands, gesturing at Logan, “He said the fuck word and you never said anything about that!”

Ashlyn ignores him, gingerly picking up the letter from his hand and giving it a once over. Almost immediately, her eyes narrow, and she glances up. 

“What?” Taylor asks, eyebrows furrowed, because Ashlyn only looks like that when there is something wrong .

She’s silent for a second, before she shakes her head, “Never mind, I thought… no, never mind.”

She looks at Ben, and hands him the paper.

He hasn’t chimed in yet, but then again, he hasn’t even seen the letter. He stares at it, glaring at the piece of paper for a lot longer than necessary. 

“Are you, uh, done reading?” She mumbles.

He jerks up, awakening from some sort of daze, and immediately hands it back to her. He’s still silent, which shouldn’t be concerning, because he’s not exactly the talkative type, but it’s just… weird.

A flicker of hope flutters through her, a “ what if…” that she squashes down quickly.

Reading into things too much has always been her biggest weakness.

“Yeah, so,” She sighs as Tyler reads through it, “I guess that’s it.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Aiden eats a fry and stares at her in curiosity.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… what are you going to do about it? ”

“No, no, I heard you, I just… I didn’t… what am I even supposed to do in a situation like this??”

Ashlyn looks up from her phone, texting god knows who. “Taylor, I’m going to ask you a question. And you need to be honest with me. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

She says it like a threat, and Taylor knows she might as well take it as one.

“Oh, um, yeah… yeah that’s fine.”

“Do you have someone in mind, that you want it to be?”

Is that a trick question? Obviously no-

Ben.

She chokes on her milk.

“Nope!” She coughs, hiding behind her hand, “Not… not anyone it could be.”

Not anyone who would ever write me a goddamn love letter.

Ashlyn raises an eyebrow, and for a moment Taylor thinks she might push it, might wrench it out of her when the object of her… dilemma is sitting right there.

Instead, she leans backward, “What did you guys get for number 19 on the math test?”

Taylor loves her so much right now.

Aiden frowns, like he doesn’t want to drop the topic but there’s something else on his mind, “It only went to ten, though?”

They all look at him and pause, sharing silent glances.

Yeah, she’s not going to be the one to tell him.

Finally, Tyler sighs, “Hate to break it to you buddy, but there was a back side.”

He slams his hand down on the table so loudly that the other tables turn to stare.

“ THERE WAS A BACK SIDE?”

– 

Aiden catches up to her after school, something Taylor’s been dreading all day. He’s been staring at her since lunch, like he’s trying to solve a mystery but doesn’t have all the pieces.

The interrogation starts off simple. They start the walk home together, Tyler and Aiden on either side of her. They complain about the math test, and Aiden rants about how “ the hell am I supposed to know there’s a back!?”

But it only takes a few minutes for what she’s been dreading to begin.

“ So… ” Aiden starts, and she doesn’t let him finish.

“Spill it,” she rolls her eyes, “I already know you have something to say.” 

Tyler glances at her exasperation, amused, “Woah there, how do you know he wasn’t talking to me?”

“He’s been glaring at me all day , Ty,” she groans, and Aiden giggles like a fucking super villain.

“Well, for your information, Tyler , I was indeed talking to Tay, and I would really love to get back to what I was saying…”

“Spill,” Taylor repeats, her lips quirking up into a small smile.

“Thank god. Okay, okay, I have an idea.”

Well, that’s not a good thing. Tyler seems to agree, judging from his soft chuckle.

“What is it?”

“You said the letter was at your desk, wasn’t it? Fourth period?”

He’s trying to get to something, and Taylor isn’t sure whether she’s going to like it or not. “....Yes?” 

“That means that the person who kept it on your desk sits there in one of the three English periods before you!” He squeals, like it’s some sort of revelation.

“Yeah…?”

“Oh my god, Tay, don’t you get it? We could figure it out! We just need to find someone in each class, ask them to see who sits at your spot, and we’d be able to narrow it down to three people. Don’t you want to know who it is?? It’s so simple!”

Oh.

Well, she has to admit she’s a little curious. 

Aiden keeps talking, “And, and ! Logan has first period in the same classroom, he can give us our first suspect. And Ben’s in third!! I don’t know anyone in second, though… that might be an issue.”

Tyler chimes in, “I think I have a friend who might know a friend who might have a sibling in second period? I can ask around too, a few people owe me favors.”

They’re so emotionally invested in this that Taylor doesn’t have the heart to tell them to stop.

“And then, what?” She laughs, “Get them alone and interrogate each one, asking them if they wrote a love letter to me?”

Aiden frowns, then nods enthusiastically.

“And you support this behavior?” She raises an eyebrow at her brother.

Tyler shrugs, “This is information that I need to have too, you know, as my role of older brother. Gotta make sure it isn’t like… Barron who has been writing ballads of your eyes behind our backs.”

Dear god.

Aiden’s practically vibrating now, “Taylor, this is going to be So. Fun. ”

She smiles softly, “Maybe it will be.”

– 

Taylor doesn’t really think about the letter that much.

Well, that’s only half a lie.

She’s been thinking about who wrote the letter more, her curiosity overtaken by nervousness after imagining all the horrible scenarios that could play out.

And besides, what was she supposed to do?

She already lo- liked someone else, how was she supposed to react when she found out who secretly had a crush on her? Would she have to break their heart?

She hates that thought.

Broken hearts suck.

Seriously, she would know.

She bangs her head on the library table, opening up her binder in hopes of cramming in some studying. She’s been slacking off these few days, due to obvious reasons.

That’s when she notices it, peeking out from a swarm of math papers.

An envelope.

An envelope, that just so happens to be addressed to her.

God, what the hell was going on?

Her hands are shaking, but she barely registers it as she tears it open. She knows what’s inside before she unfolds the paper, knows exactly what it is and she doesn’t know if she hates it or loves it.

Dear Taylor,

I told myself I would get over you, told myself that my last letter would be it. But you found it, and now my entire world has been turned upside down. I still love you.

I’m sorry.

Sincerely, the idiot who left their letter crumpled under your desk.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Taylor thinks she’s going to scream.

It’s too much, She wants to yell, It’s too little.

She hates that they apologized. Apologized for liking her. Because that's just it, isn’t it? Nobody could ever love her and like it. Nobody could ever be happy loving her.

Anyone who’s cared for her has only had to sacrifice.

Her hands are shaking, and this time, she notices it. Her eyes swarm with tears, quick and fast, because she doesn’t know what she’s doing and it’s too much, and it’s not fair, and it’s not worth it.

I’m not worth it.

Even her goddamn secret admirer was mad about it.

It was really messing with her head wasn’t it? The feeling of being wanted, the feeling of wanting to be cared for, of wanting to be given instead of having to give .

She’d been so blind by that hope. So fucking selfish.

Don’t cry, she begs herself. Don’t cry. Please. Hold it together. Don’t make a fool of yourself in a public library. Ben and Aiden will be here in thirty minutes. Get it together before they get here.

GET. IT. TOGETHER.

She’s working on autopilot, her head filled with sludge and broken shards of thoughts floating around, piercing her skull with a million holes.

One thought stands out to her, and she gets up, gets up as fast as she possibly can, and runs.

Autopilot.

Left, right, left, left, right, straight, right.

She wants to scream in joy that the bathroom is still in the same place (which is stupid, it isn’t like it moves, but whatever). 

As she just about enters, she feels a hand on her shoulder, and she wants to scream . She whirls around, eyes brimming with tears, head burning with anger.

“ What the fuck do you want?”

Of course it’s him.

Ben’s eyes widen, and she instantly takes it back.

“Sorry, shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, god, I’m such a mess right now. I thought you were supposed to be here at 10?” She stuffs her shaking hands in her pocket, trying to look composed.

He raises his phone, showing her the time.

10:03.

Great.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, “Lost track of time.”

What’s wrong?

She almost laughs, because what’s wrong? Everything, everything is wrong right now. “Nothing, I’m fine. Just, uh, need the bathroom.”

He lets go of her, but for some reason, she doesn’t turn around and go inside.

Let’s sit down?

She sighs, knowing he’s seen right through her act. “Yeah, might as well.”

There’s a bench a few minutes away, near the edge of the library, and Taylor knows it's Ben’s favorite place to sit because she always finds him there.

She glances at him, and he looks almost… nervous. 

Weird.

They sit down quietly, and Taylor waits as Ben types.

Hey.

She smiles softly, “Hey.”

What happened?

She hesitates, and then gives in because it’s Ben. It’s already bouncing in her throat, threatening to spill. If she’s going to tell anyone, then it should be Ben.

“I got another letter.”

He tenses up, almost like he doesn’t like that the “mystery someone” gave her another one, and the idea gives her flutters. Maybe she’s being delusional, okay? But a girl can dream, and god , does she want too.

And that’s a bad thing?

Taylor snorts, “Yeah, I mean, if someone who apparently has a huge crush on you also agrees that you’re a mistake, it definitely says something, doesn’t it?”

He looks up at her in alarm. 

What?

She shrugs, “They basically like, apologized for liking me or whatever. I mean, makes sense, I wouldn’t want to like myself either. But, you know.”

He blinks, as if he’s never seen this self-deprecating side of her, and it hits Taylor that he hasn’t . Up until now, they’ve just been thoughts, curses, wandering in the back of her mind.

Now they’re alive.

Tangible

Real .

I’m sure they didn’t mesn it like that, Tayr. I’m sure ita an accident. Youe a great person to like.

He’s typing so fast that it’s incorrect, and the text-to-speech jumbles the sentence up so badly she snorts. “I didn’t understand like, half of that sentence, but still, thank you.”

He groans, staring daggers at the screen like it’s autocorrect's fault for not changing it.

Sorry. Look, I’m sure they didn’t mean it like that, Tay. I’m sure it was an accident. You’re a great person to like.

She scoffs and tries to play it off, “How would you know?”

He looks up at her, vulnerable, conflicted, and something about it makes her feel safe. She’s not the only one feeling this way. 

You’re an amazing person. It'd be hard not to like you.

And okay.

Okay .

She wants to ask him what that means, but he’s already stood up, annoyingly tapping at his phone.

Aiden’s spamming me asking where we are. Come on, let’s go.

Oh well, she’ll just have to ask later.

– 

Aiden might have a little issue with getting too invested in other people’s business

Scratch that. It’s definitely not little.

The entire school knows of her “secret admirer” and they’re all playing detective, apparently. Oh, and it’s also the talk of the school. Lori from period three came up to her and told her how lucky she was, some random kid asked her out, and some other guy pretended to be the one who wrote it.

Which, she was going to ask about, until one of his friends slapped him on the head and told her that he was a year younger than her, so he definitely wouldn’t be in the same class as she found the letter, even if it was a different period.

Turns out, Tyler “asking around” for someone in period two only ended up with a full-fledged rumor winding its way around campus like tendrils of gossip. 

And Taylor?

Taylor can’t escape it.

She meets up with Aiden and Tyler after school, ready to walk home, when some girl comes up to her and claims she knows who wrote it. 

People are doing that now, apparently.

She smiles sweetly, asks the girl where exactly her friend put the letter, and watches her stutter for the right answer. The locker room!

Bzz. Wrong.

She rolls her eyes and walks away, ignoring the girl’s angry huff. 

Aiden’s standing awkwardly, shuffling back and forth like he did when he admitted to losing a frog in their biology classroom.

Turns out the frog was poisonous, and they’d had to evacuate the entire school.

“Hey, uh, Tay… sorry about the whole, everyone knowing thing? I mean, you’re not mad, are you?”

She shakes her head, definitely very fucking angry, but she’s not going to tell that to Aiden . Then he’d get that wounded puppy look and Taylor would feel guilty again.

“It’s fine, I just didn’t realize finding a scribbled out letter under your desk was so… gossip worthy.”

He shrugs, “What can I say? The people need their daily dose of romance, because they’re all too lazy to pursue their own crushes anyway. They’re like, living through you.”

She groans, “By invading my personal life??”

Talking to Ben yesterday had helped her calm down a little bit, even though they hadn’t said that much. But she was getting angstier by the minute, and she felt herself craving comfort. Like, it was weird as hell, but she wanted to be held?

She wanted to cry and have someone listen .

Like… like Ben did.

Goddamnit, why couldn’t the secret admirer love letter guy be him ?

– 

The next day at school, Aiden puts his plan to action. He’s even got a little notebook and everything, helps him get into the vibe, according to Ashlyn.

The entire schools in on it too, although majority of them are completely lying when they claim to find a lead.

Oh, and also, she’s like, popular now?

Turns out being liked by someone so much they write a letter declaring their hopelessly in love with you suddenly makes you everyone else’s object of attraction too?

Like, if one person thinks you’re that awesome, suddenly everyone else does?

Taylor’s never been in the spotlight, but she was just asked out twice in the last hour.

This Is Not Normal. 

“Uhm… uh, Taylor right?”

She turns around to see a guy her age, with soft brown hair and freckles, looking at her sheepishly. He’s holding a boutique of roses, and they’re… pretty.

He holds them out, looking down like he’s afraid she won’t take them. 

“Mh hm! What’s your name?”

“Leon,” he smiles, “Uh, I, uh, got you flowers? And not because of any of this stuff that’s going on or anything, I promise I’m not trying to join the whole fan army you have!” He talks so fast Taylor can barely grasp what he’s saying, “But uh, anyway… I kinda have a huge crush on you? Like, since 6th grade. We were in the same chem class and you- uh, yeah. And I guess this whole thing made me confident enough to confess? I wasn’t ever planning too but, I mean, you’re not someone who should be loved in secret or anything, like whoever wrote you that stupid letter. I just, I just think you deserve better? Uh, yeah, anyway, that’s um. My speech.”

She stares at him for a second.

“Please say something, or I might go jump off a cliff now.”

“Oh!” She startles out of her daze, “Sorry, this is so much right now and I have to get to class, can I… get back to you later?” 

She winces, because really? “Get back to you later?” What the hell does that mean? Stupid, Taylor thinks, Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And even worse, Leon’s kind of… cute. 

Maybe.

( Not as cute as Ben , the traitorous part of her mind thinks).

“Right! Class! Sorry, I didn’t mean to catch you at such a bad time. Um,” he looks down at the flowers, “Do- do you want them?”

Right. When someone gives you flowers, you’re supposed to take them. Not leave them hanging.

She awkwardly takes them from him, and smiles. 

“My phone number is attached to one of the stems,” He rambles, “Text me whenever? I mean, if you want. No pressure or anything.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” She says softly, “I’ll definitely think about it.”

He looks up and meets her gaze, “See you around?”

She finds herself smiling. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll get over my stupid crush.

– 

It’s lunch time, and her friends are bursting with information.

There’s so much going on as she enters the lunchroom that she’s finding it hard to keep track of anything. “Okay, okay, wait, slow down guys!” She laughs, “Care to let me know what’s going on?”

They sit down at their regular spot, everyone talking about various things at once.

Aiden shrugs, “We’re talking about the chemistry quiz, your letter fiasco, and the fact that Barron tripped over and fell in the parking lot a few minutes ago. All in one conversation, I think.”

“Riiight- why are we thinking about Barron-?”

Aiden and Logan exchange glances that she really doesn’t like. Tyler just looks at the floor like he’s about to murder someone.

A second of silence passes before Aiden starts, “Okay, so, Logan says there’s this girl who sits their first period, who’s name is Ava?” 

Logan nods approvingly at him.

“Good job, Lo. Suspect number 1 has been caught!”

“We’re not putting them to prison, dear god,” Ashlyn mumbles, but her exasperation is betrayed by a soft smile.

Aiden turns his attention to Ben, “Sooo… what about third?”

He looks up from his phone, like a deer caught in headlights, and blinks. No one. 

“Nobody sits there?” Logan frowns, “Huh. Guess that narrows it down to Ava and… Ba- Um. The person in second period.”

Silence.

Okay, something was up.

“What's going on, you guys?” She mumbles nervously.

“It’s Barron by the way, the one who sits in that seat second period.” Ashlyn offers, still cramming in math homework while eating. She doesn’t even look up, just casually drops the bomb and leaves it at that.

“Oh- that’s- oh-”

“It, uh, gets worse,” Tyler grumbles, “We asked the girl, and she doesn’t even know who you are. She’s a transfer student who only got here a few weeks ago.”

“Barron,” she states, numbly.

“Barron,” Aiden groans.

“Barron,” Logan offers.

“Can we please stop repeating that goddamn bastard's name?” Tyler hisses, “I’m so fucking glad he tripped in the parking lot.”

“But… Barron,” she repeats, numbly.

God, they must have manifested this with all their jokes.

There’s no fucking way Barron wrote her a love letter.

screaming it took me a month but !! here is chapter two !! hopefully chapter three will be out soon, bc i already have like half of it written. hope you enjoyed reading! feel free to comment with questions, advice, or just to let me know you read, i appreciate every comment :] on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57313345

[oh-saints]

airport

rúben planned the trip to end up with sliding the 4-carat diamond ring he hid in his back pocket onto his girlfriend’s finger. spoiler: they broke up instead. and now the footballer was stuck in the airport until the bad weather cleared off. lovely, isn’t it?

rúben dias x female!OC

word count: 5.6k

note: happy new year to everyone but especially my boyfriend who’d once asked if i could make something out of our first meeting (i did meet him on a plane) so here it is! [thanks for breaking my writer’s block & enjoy ruben as he’s the only one you’d let me cheat on you with.] as usual, i happen to always write around dawn so ofc this is not beta-read but feedbacks are always welcome!

sorry bro, the ENTIRE city’s closed until the sandstorm goes away.

rúben groaned as the notification bar showed his manager’s newest message. things went spiralling down the drain so fast in the last 24 hours, his head couldn’t wrap up which one’s reality and which one’s not. he just wanted to go back home as soon as possible and throw himself to work—the only reality he knows very much real and sane—the very next day.

but they got to have a fucking massive sandstorm on the day he was returning to manchester.

rúben’s mood went from very bad to super sour in a split second.

he wouldn’t be like this, though, if his girlfriend of 2 years said yes to him last night, when he popped the million-dollar question every woman would love to hear from him, on the very place they met the first time. it didn’t make sense to him at all as to why she flat-out said no to him and scurried off like she’d caught fire on her ass when 2 days before flying out to their beautiful destination, they’d been seriously—and positively at that—talking about the possibility of marriage.

was it too fast? nothing was too fast, at least for rúben’s standard. if she was keen on spending the rest of her life with her, as she proclaimed to be, they could discuss more possibilities of what happens in their household as they go. no?

rúben had, in fact, contacted her to come back to the spacious villa he’d rented over the weekend so they could sit down and run over this like a pair of adults. after all, it always takes 2 to tango in a relationship—whatever relationship it is. rúben was willing to apologise first for acting rash, if it was the case, and made amends to what he did but instead, he found out she blocked him on every communication channel they used 15 minutes after he sent his first train of messages post-refusal.

maybe she wasn’t ready to talk it out like a mature adult solving problems. maybe she wasn’t the adult he was expecting her to be. maybe she wasn’t an adult at all.

his head was heavy and throbbing, his heart was pounding irregularly, his breathing was shallow. he wanted to scream out whatever he was feeling inside, in hope it could lessen the inexplicable emotion and the bitter taste left in his mouth.

the sound of a crying baby from afar nearly split his skull to pieces like he was being thrown a nuclear bomb.

he should’ve listened to what his brother said this morning; to not delay his departure after such a disastrous ending to yesterday’s evening. he should’ve taken the offer of flying private his brother could easily pull off with a call, if only the idea of being confined inside the small plane alone appealed to him.

he had the luxury, why bother flying couch?

it was the very question rúben had been dying to ask himself. was the loud noise of the crowd the one he looked for to drown in all the voices in his head, the very one kept asking and blaming himself of the outcome his relationship didn’t work well? was the uncomfortable plane seat the one he was searching for to ease off the niggling ache of his heart?

wait, since when was rúben gato dias a sappy boyfriend?

he knew he wasn’t heart-broken—it would’ve hurt him even more than what he was feeling—so he knew he’d survive this. give him time to work tirelessly and it would be the same as when a smoker puffed his nicotine intake out of his lungs. quick and easy to forget. but until this damn sandstorm walked away from the surface of the earth, would there be anything to distract him? anything to make his day at least better by a miniscule?

“sorry, is this seat taken?”

rúben looked up at the feminine voice, the difference to other hushed voices in the hustle-bustles of the airport was striking. a good surprise, as he could direct focus on his brain to be towards this lady instead of pondering endless what-ifs in his head, but a surprise nonetheless.

rúben wondered how she could ask such inquiry without a hint of questioning tone; she was all smiles, borderline confident the seat across him was vacant, but it didn’t come off as annoying. she was friendly, for the lack of words, and rúben sensed she’d only want to have a seat, as the café they were in was packed with people affected by the sandstorm.

so rúben shook his head to answer her question before unlocking his phone to let his family know he wouldn’t be coming back as scheduled. but as he was placing his fingers over the keyboard on his phone, he sensed someone was watching him, it wasn’t intently but it was enough for rúben to not ignore it.

the woman was still standing in her place, her hand remained on the skeleton of the chair. the smile faltered a little, however. “do you mind, though, if i sit here?”

rúben casted a glance up to meet her eyes once more, half confused as to why she didn’t sit on the chair in front of him right away—unlike what he expected her to be—another half was confused about her question in general. rúben couldn’t recall his memory of a time someone bothered to ask such thing to him, or any other person, regarding an unoccupied chair.

and weirdly enough, the woman had asked the question with an underlying concern behind her tone. as if it truly mattered to her about what he thought; that if he wasn’t comfortable enough sharing the space with her, she’d gladly move somewhere else rather than having her presence rubbed him off the wrong way.

was him sulking that palpable to everyone else in the room?

“no, please,” rúben managed to give her a tiny, pressed smile—the best he could muster with the energy he had left—and gestured his hand to show he didn’t mind her, in hope she’d feel more comfortable around him. after all, they might be spending the next several hours face to face. “go ahead.”

the smile went up a couple of watts again, and her relief unknowingly relieved something inside rúben too. “thanks.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

rúben thought he would be spending his spare time bored as hell but boy, did the mother earth prove him wrong.

they didn’t share any words after their last interaction; rúben busied himself with his phone, the woman straight away pulled out her laptop and a notebook. the silent went on for at least 30 minutes before he noticed the woman going mildly berserk with whatever she was writing on the white paper from the corner of his eyes. hands furious, brows knitted together, eyes blazing crazy let-me-prove-you-wrong determination, lips bitten down white.

suddenly she went deflated like a swimming tube losing pressure, sighing so hard it blew the poor paper over. eyes closed in resignation, lips pouted deeply, valour escaped her entire being. she then stared at the numbers she scribbled down for a full minute, like it’d mean something to the eyes now devoid of everything, before starting to start afresh on another page of white.

scratched couple of number, jotted something else. a dozen times with a dozen of different facial expressions before she finally surrendered to whatever it was. secretly, rúben enjoyed the mini show the woman opposite him had been presenting. it reminded him of a pantomime show at a circus—entertainment of various expressions without words—but in a good way. but at that point, he was more concerned she was going to join another baby who was wailing from another side of the café.

so he decided to buy her one of the cake on display, in hope it could cheer her up, as well as apologising for the hostility he displayed the first time the fate introduced them to each other. maybe as a gratitude on the side too, rúben realised as he went on, that she was simply existing. in the rúben’s world, where everyone and everything almost felt intrusive and overwhelming at the same time all the time as they disregarded his privacy, people rarely ever did something without a hidden agenda.

maybe it was a huge leap of faith on itself but what did he get to lose now when it felt like it had been that way since last evening?

the moment rúben slid the small white plate towards her direction, those expressive eyes flashed him unspoken confusion. he couldn’t help but wonder what else and how far those orbs could convey words without words.

“you look like you need it,” rúben regained his place in front of her once more. “i hope you’re not allergic to chocolate.”

the gratitude gleamed from the same eyes—and she made sure he looked at it—threw him off guard, to be honest. he was expecting her to say something along the lines he said to her, not puss-in-boots eyes. “thank you soooooo much! you don’t know how much this means to me,” she picked up the utensils in a rush, eyes devouring the praline cake already. “i was actually thinking of buying you a coffee or something because i can be handful when i’m working.”

she was afraid she’d disturb his peace, on top of being scared she’d take up too much of his space earlier, when she barely made noise? but before he could voice out his curiosity, she handed him the fork, already scooped up with a cut piece of the chocolate dessert.

“where i grow up, we always hand the first cut to the person we’re thankful of,” she answered the question underneath the look he threw her. it amazed him that it didn’t take her five seconds to figure them out. “otherwise it’s considered rude.”

her way of thinking intrigued rúben immensely immediately, so he decided to ride off the high wave. “i hate to break it to you but my job requires me to clean healthy until i retire.”

“what the hell…” the face she pulled on resembled a famous are-you-kidding meme he usually found on his social media timeline and he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “i hope they compensate you well.”

rúben was about to throw a banter into equation but she stepped her foot on the throttle before he could. “what do you do for a living, if you don’t mind me asking? because i can’t think of a job that has strict and painful criteria like that.”

the footballer stared her down, a bit intensely this time in hope he could break off her character, should she turn out to be a deceit. this was one of the classic trick in the book; fake it till you make it. shockingly, she didn’t waver under his pressure and continued looking at him expectantly, like a student waiting for his professor to answer their question.

“i’m an athlete.”

it took her 10 seconds to digest he wasn’t kidding, that sports industry actually was that rigorous. she went white in aghast. “no way.”

rúben was stunned that she was stunned at his admission. “i don’t look like one, huh?”

“i was expecting you to say you’re a model or something.”

this time, the footballer couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his mouth. “is it too late to say that i model too sometimes?”

“you’re joking.”

the mirth and amusement stayed behind in rúben’s eyes as he shook his head one more time to answer her doubt. because heck, this woman deserved more than just a slice of praline cake for grazing her refreshing existence in rúben’s world.

“i’m so googling you,” the woman pulled her laptop closer, fallen papers be damned. “when you’re an athlete but you have modelling gigs already, you must be a hotshot.”

“eh, hotshot would be an overstatement.”

the woman shot him an incredulous look. “that’s exactly what a damn good athlete would say when praised. but drop your name, mister, so we can test out if it’s over or understatement.”

“the name’s rúben dias but at this point, i’m just flattered you consider me a hotshot,” and rúben wasn’t lying. he knows when a woman says one’s hotshot. “i can now rest in peace.”

“i can’t be the first one to call you—holy fuck,” her eyes enlarged so wide he was afraid it might pop out soon and dropped down to the gaping mouth. “you play for manchester city?”

she seethed an emotion he couldn’t recongise as she spelled out the name of the club he was now representing, and rúben detested the feeling already. one when he couldn’t pinpoint what she was feeling or thinking from what her facial features were displaying. “uh, i hope you’re not a manchester united fan.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

praise the gods above, she wasn’t.

unfortunately, her ex-boyfriend was. it was how she’d come to know the world of football, including but not limited to his current club. she stopped watching when she got accepted for her job; the very reason she was flying out today of all days.

rúben learnt her name was adriana and she was a petroleum engineer, which explained a lot to her condition. the reason she broke up with her ex was due to the long distance and lack of communication. (in her defence, she couldn’t work on it because how am i supposed to search for another source of signal when i’m like one hour away from the nearest land?) the lack of signal resulted any form of entertainment to get limited, thus her not being able to watch football despite growing fond of it as the years went by. the last time she watched anything football-related was before the season 2019/2020 started off, and it showed why she wasn’t able to recognise his face.

but the work she was currently doing wasn’t something rúben regretted out of her job, unlike her ex, because he truthfully couldn’t imagine the boredom he’d have to go through if she wasn’t stuck with him in this sandstorm. if it wasn’t because of a work emergency that came up 2 days prior, he wouldn’t have discovered the world of engineering. she was forthcoming enough when he asked the details in what she does on daily basis, even went as far as showing the source of her mental breakdown earlier—which coincidentally confirmed his guess and he couldn’t contain the butterflies in his stomach for nailing the bull’s eye.

despite coming from 2 different worlds, literally and figuratively, rúben thoroughly enjoyed the endless conversations that flowed between them. it went from their jobs, to football in general, to f1 talks, to music, movies. she was genuinely curious to the healthy eating he’d been doing for years, he was equally interested about the things she did to pass time when staying on the off-shore facility or about the things she had to do to survive when a hurricane or some sorts came crashing down her unusual accommodation. she intended to download all his netflix recommendation before all earthly-pleasures were rid off, he aimed to make a spotify playlist to contend her liked songs.

when they found out the sandstorm would still be ongoing by the time dinner fell upon, they unanimously agreed to move out of the café to somewhere else where they served proper food. she needed her caffeine fix to fight the jet lag and he needed his protein fix before his trainer blew off his ears.

(lies. he did it because he wanted to take her far away from the eagle eyes that was starting to show their true form the past hour, complete with their DSLR cameras pointing at them. and away because he wanted to listen to her intently, for she could never bore her, and he’d hate it if anyone else got to eavesdrop how much of a wonderful conversationalist she was.)

she laughed when their chosen food served—she was only having swedish meatball and he was adamant on having chicken breast for his stroganoff, on top of ordering smoked salmon salad—because only then did adriana realise each of them lived off very different lives.

“i eat because i want to, whereas you…” adriana shook her head in disbelief. rúben contemplated for so long over the menu the restaurant provided because he was looking for ones that fit his diet and, in the end, adriana hadn’t seen so many greens as rúben’s plate. “i really hope it’s all worth it.”

“it is.”

with the way rúben looked at her when he said it, adriana could only pray for her life before rúben took all of her breaths away.

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“… announcement for passengers of Emirates Airlines on flight number 431B to Tokyo, Japan.”

adriana’s eyes perked up at the airport announcement, recognising it was designated for the passengers belonging to the same aircraft as her. a small panic rushed over her bloodstream, as it now dawned her how much time had passed swiftly, afraid that she wouldn’t catch her flight in time.

although she didn’t miss a bigger, more painful pinch on her heart that she had to end whatever this is she was having with rúben. she didn’t want this to be a one-time occurrence because it had been a while since the last time she was genuinely interested in an opposite sex—she’d been bereft of a figure with face she could tolerate and brain that could keep up with her to be called her boyfriend for years now—but she did realise that with them living two different lives in two different countries with thousands of miles and oceans apart, it would only be a futile attempt to ask him to try and work this out.

“that’s your flight, isn’t it?”

adriana’s eyes zeroed back on the very person that had filled her layover hours with so many anecdotes and stories from his footballing days that she felt as if she lived through those moments with him too. rúben was sporting back the tiny, pressed smile she found the first time she interacted with him hours ago but managed to vanish as they spent more time together. she hated it immediately. she missed rúben laughing and smiling so freely like he didn’t care if they got eternally stuck in this airport.

“yeah, that’s me,” adriana couldn’t help but give him an apologetic smile. she was apologetic for living 10 hours away from where he lives, for not being able to spend longer time with him; for this particular situation they couldn’t control, in general. “unfortunately.”

rúben muttered, “unfortunately, indeed,” under his breath and another pang in the chest didn’t escape adriana.

adriana couldn’t help herself; her hand reached his before she knew it herself, as if it was her second nature. “don’t be that sad, rúben,”

one moment he was pitying himself for meeting such a wonderful woman in the wrong circumstances, one moment his heart was galloping so hard at the way her tongue rolled his name perfectly. like she had known how to for so long, like she owned it.

maybe she had, effortlessly so.

“it means your flight’s coming up. you can go home, too.”

adriana didn’t know that for rúben, his now-burned-to-ashes home had now shifted into the very one rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb softly but firmly with enough pressure, just the way he liked it. he couldn’t help but wonder how her flimsy of a hand would look prettily with the ring that sat disturbingly at the bottom of his backpack.

the silent revelation stopped rúben’s heart for a second.

he must be going crazy. or desperate. or worse, both.

maybe he was indeed acting rashly to his ex-girlfriend, for jumping into conclusion she was ready for the lifetime institution of marriage when they had only spoken of it days before. he really should slow down this time around. he blew off one chance, he didn’t want second time—especially with a woman that felt so much like someone who would drape a blanket over him after a disappointing match, be it ucl final against real madrid or not, despite only meeting her hours ago.

“you know that if i could follow you, i would, right?” adriana’s heart skipped a beat, both at his submission and at his hand enveloping hers back. every inch, every angle, every curve of their hands fell together, perfectly fitting against one another, and it scared her because how could it be when their hand sizes were kilometres different? “i mean, you still owe me so many stories of your co-workers jumping off the rig for fun.”

“you can always visit me anytime for that.”

“or you can always visit me anytime for that,” rúben threw her a mischief smile, just to rile her up—and she laughed at him, pulling her hand back so she could tidy up her things scattered across the table—but deep down, he was serious. he already planned in mind to send her jet as soon as she was back on shore. “i miss you already.”

and he wasn’t lying. he hated the cold that swept over the palm of his hand as soon as her hands went back to the respectful owner.

“please don’t,” adriana chuckled at his words, hands slipping her macbook to its leather sleeve. “i will only annoy you if i’m around you 24/7.”

“better than spending the rest of my flight without a spectacular companion.”

“i’m sure there are tons of people dying for your attention now,” adrianna’s eyes signaled people behind them that took liberty to take pictures of him as if he was another of the world’s 7 wonders. he was amazed that she kept her cool the entire time, knowing the fans could be such a disturbance. “you can always pick one of the bunch.”

“but none of them is you.”

rúben harbored the tiniest satisfaction when her entire body went rigid at his words before the eyes he was starting to love slowly focused back on him. fuck speed dating, adriana was about to leave in less than an hour and he didn’t know how long it’d take him to see her again.

adriana had always appreciated when people went straightforward with her—her mother said it was the effect of hanging out with too many boys and men alike in the rig—but hearing rúben’s each and every direct take on her was a whole new level of game. she liked it, but she really needed to step up her arsenal and fast at that.

rúben’s one hell of a handsome face didn’t help to her advantage, though. she was glad she’d be boarding a plane soon because if she stayed for an hour longer, her mind would probably go astray every time she thought of a good comeback. god damn, those brown eyes that reminded her of dipping into a chocolate fondue and the tiny smirk only he could pull off and those stubbles she was itching to run her hands through and the unique accent that tangled british and portugese—they’d be the death of her.

“let me walk you to your gate.”

adriana was thankful rúben spared her the pain of giving him a reply to something she wasn't sure there was a comeback statement to that. “that’d be lovely.”

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rúben’s father always said the right woman would prove herself worthy of him the same way a man would prover himself worthy of her. he used to believe it when he was a kid but as he grew up, now entering the stardom especially, he concluded that what his father said was only applicable to the lives of ordinary men. it had always been him proving her worthy instead of the woman doing the labour her own.

however, as rúben and adriana walked down the airport towards her gates with people flocking them as they went, rúben couldn’t help but get reminded of what his father used to say. adriana took the stride with pride, embracing this ugly side of rúben’s life that people always breached and forgot he was also a fellow human with a need to protect his privacy also.

she kept engaging him in small conversations like it was another day for her, as if it was actually that easy to be around him with cameras pointing towards them. she made it look easy in the process to tuck away the reality and instead focusing on rúben and rúben dos santos gato alves dias only. the one that adriana got to know the past hour, not the manchester city’s number 3 everyone else got to see from the silver screen.

that was when he knew she was worthy of the life he could give her in the future. because frankly enough, not everyone was ready for the consequences nor did they willingly accept the baggage that came with dating a footballer playing under a name as big as manchester city.

“this is me, then.”

they had to go through almost 40 gates to reach hers, yet they’d arrived? rúben started to question the concept of time his physics teacher used to teach him. “what a short trip, i expected 15 minutes.”

adriana scoffed. “it is 15 minutes to get here, rúben.”

for once, she hated her job, too, for making her a frequent flyer to a land so far away from everyone’s reach. whoever said distance makes heart grow fonder surely had never experienced living in an off-shore rig. she hated that the very particular fact already distanced her from rúben, whose hands were now tucked in his jeans. awkward, and rúben dias didn’t suit awkward at all. not after having him around her for hours without a moment of awkwardness.

oh, how much adriana wanted to reach those hands of his again. despite the crude surface due to grazing the hardness of green grass, it brought safety and comfort to her. a feeling she’d definitely keep deep down her heart.

“aren’t you going back to your gate?”

“nah, i’m staying until i know your plane’s taken off safely.”

another pregnant pause.

and rúben hated it. but he didn’t want to touch adriana once more, for he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from purchasing a one-way ticket to tokyo. or wherever adriana was staying.

“alright then, suit yourself, champ,” adriana corrected the sling of her backpack, and rúben was glad he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to do with the tension between them both. “i’m going now. thank you for the amazing time, rúben. i genuinely enjoyed it.”

rúben could only nod, terrified of the other things that might escape his mouth so loosely. so he chose his words wisely, “have a safe flight.”

adriana smiled to his words, but rúben noticed the smile didn’t reach her eyes. she was sad, and rúben badly wanted to suggest that they should be sad together instead.

the airport announcement boomed throughout the building once more. rúben watched she took a peak of the line behind her, the boarding counter now almost deserted from people, and when she returned her sight to him, he saw resolution behind her eyes. it was then he knew he was out of time to convince her to stay, nothing else would waver her.

but before he could act upon his thoughts, adriana beat him to it once more.

fuck it, she thought inwardly. it’d be at least christmas before she could see him again—that is if he still wanted her around by that time. rúben had shot his fire, might as well shoot her own bullets while he was in front of her. so she stood on her toes, in order to reach rúben’s face, but to no avail, it resulted her to only reach a small part under his chin, full of light stubbles but his manly smell intoxicated her beyond words. she was glad she could only plant a featherlike peck there, or else she’d be spinningly dizzy.

the movement was as fast as a thunder struck but being a professional ball kicker, rúben had trained his reflexes all of his life. before adriana could notice, rúben had placed his hands on her waist, steadying her so she wouldn’t fall back on her ass disgracefully from the loss of balance, despite being caught off guard.

her hand remained on his cheek, as she bid her farewell of “take care, rúben,” but he could take the impression she’d wished to elongate the moment. so she could take in the feeling of having him under her hands, so she could take in the feeling of having him wrapped around her for the first and the last time today, so she could take in the feeling before she had to be deprived of this until the next time they met.

so he leaned in, doing the very one thing he had been dying to do. he eliminated the thames-long distance between them, relishing the liberating feeling of finally having what he had been desiring since the first time she popped up in front of him, for he wouldn’t have the luxury to do this as much as he would want to. not until the next time they met. with his year-long schedule, she’d be lucky if he could sneak off sometime between christmas and new year.

despite their lack of time, rúben kissed adriana deep and slow, like they had all the time in the world. his hands were now respectfully settling on her waist and the back of her neck, angling her to a comfortable position for them both, ever so gently yet full of passion. like they had done this thousands of times before.

her head was officially spinning around to the point of no return.

rúben was taking everything she could give, no remnants left behind. every gasp, every suppressed moan, every hidden groan, every nip, every desire. he didn’t care if he came off like a dementor sucking a soul out of another human; he wanted this, he needed this. so soft, so sweet, so adriana yet her lips had a streak of him across them now. she was now tasted like him, sweet temptation and danger, all in one. exactly like the dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

adriana pulled away first, her brain alerted her it was time to go and that she also required air if she wanted to live another day. she opened her eyes only to see his already staring at her, grinning like they were not going to different directions, his thumb grazed her wet lips that was covered with them.

“text me before you take off.”

and adriana had already planned to spend the last of this month’s earning to buy the on-board wifi. “i’ll text you whenever i can.”

with one last kiss between them, adriana reluctantly let go of rúben and willed herself to take a step towards the boarding counter.

gone was the warmth she would now associate this city with, both the usual sunny weather and rúben himself. adriana wasn’t a fan of cold weather herself to be honest, today just added another reason to the bag. she had even longed the pricky sensation of his sheer, unshaved beard underneath the palm of her hands.

being taller than average, rúben stood tall above everyone else’s head and watched as adriana’s figure slowly blended between the crowd lining up for the plane they’d been waiting for. call him impossible but even from afar, rúben still couldn’t take his eyes off her the way they met the first time tens of hours ago—doesn’t matter to him if it was the small of her back, the back of her head. it was still adriana, it was still parts of the amazing person he got to know the past several hours.

as rúben prayed for his feeling to not falter soon, that whatever they were having were not just some withering memories like summer breeze, adriana looked back to his direction. spotting the gigantic portugese amongst the crowd, still standing and waiting for her until she boarded the plane like he promised, she grinned and mouthed see you soon as if they’d meet again.

rúben took it as a sign for the universe to act upon it and not just prayed it wouldn’t be a fleeting moment. he’d make sure they will meet again, as soon as his schedule allowed him to be, because this time, he believed what people said; with great sacrifices comes great results. and he, for god knows why, believed this time adriana was worth everything he did, does and will fight for.

maybe a delayed gratification was what rúben was looking for as the answer to his initial question.

[hedonisticeiram]

The following morning in the slytherin boys dorm.

Regulus: Clearly something has happened Barty came into the room in a strop. No Evan. Followed by silence or rather a silencing charm. Evan came in he could tell from the steps but he too was acting odd. He didn’t go to his bed instead he went to Bartys. Not that he cares he doesn’t own either of them and they are free to do as they please with whoever. If it is with each other well about fucking time. Although he hopes it doesn’t cause an issue with their friendship. They aren’t much but Barty was his first friend. His first kiss, his first everything really. It’s not as if he doesn’t love him. It’s complicated on their best days. Evan just fits he keeps them both grounded. He’s cunning, clever, loyal and mischievous. All the makings of a slytherin. They all met before hogwarts pure bloods and their parties. It’s always been the three of them, they’ve done everything together, love was no different. With a sigh he goes to leave his bed. He’s met with Barty at his side climbing in his bed. Wtf Crouch he scowls at him. Can I help you? He narrows his eyes at him and fixes him with his best fuck off face. The fucker just smiles at him. Somethings wrong that isn’t the reaction he usually gets. Before he can ask Crouch is saying he has to tell him something and to not be mad. He’s rambling. Where tf is Evan. As If that summons him he hears the door open.

Evan: Evans always the first up, Reg likes to sleep in Crouch only wakes up when he wants. Neither is to be woken up unless you are prepared for a stinging hex or a body bind. Neither will hold back or apologize. Leaving for breakfast alone on the weekends is normal. He’ll probably meet up with Dora or Dorcas for breakfast. He goes down to eat distracted. There’s fewer people than normal but after the party that’s to be expected. Neither girl is here probably still asleep. Potters looking over as if he’s searching for someone. Sirius is asleep on the table. Lupin is making him a plate and shoving it into his elbow to wake him up. He’s leaving the hall and going back to apologize to Barty. Last night was a right mess. It’s not like Regulus and Barty are dating but Potter of all people he is specifically off limits. What was all that about anyways. The way Crouch reacted was so soft he couldn’t help but push his luck. Now he has to fix this before none of them can look at each other. He opens the door and finds Barty in Regulus bed hovering over him. Everything happens so fast. All thoughts of apologies are gone. This fucking bloke is mental. Of course he is, first potter, now reg. Fuck no. His chest is tight, eyes narrowed and irritated he slams the door. Bartys eyes meet his and they both freeze.

Barty: The door slams and he meets Evan’s eyes and oh no he’s pissed. He’s seething, he’s beautiful, his cheeks are flushed and his body is so tense it looks painful. His fist are clenched at his sides. That shouldn’t be attractive. Fuck he can’t move or breathe he doesn’t know what to say or do. Turns out he doesn’t have to do anything. Evan’s yelling before he can make a decision.

Evan: The anger blindsides him before he can think straight he’s yelling at Barty to get out of Regulus’s bed. Never one to disappoint Reg gets up and states he’s not doing this whatever argument they’ve had has nothing to do with him. Hands up backing away he’s going to leave the room. Till Evan looks at Barty and yells have you told him!? Crouch is just staring alarmed and silent. He knows what that means. The boys pleading, Don’t. I haven’t had time. I’m was going too and now your here he’s pointing at him. He smiles, saying this probably isn’t the best thing to do to a friend but neither is everything Crouch has done in the past 24 hrs. Reg did you know that Barty left me at a Party last night because he went to snog Potter in the Forrest. Oh fuck he’s done it now.

Regulus: Whips around so fast he hears his neck click, surely he didn’t hear that right. He binds Barty and Evan before he registers he’s reaching for his wand. They both are silent and look equally alarmed. He locks the door and turns. WHAT? It comes out louder and colder than he’s meaning too. Barty, did you snog Potter? The boys rambling he throws up a silencing charm he looks like he’s going to cry, panicked. Evan just rolls his eyes petulantly. Evan, what did you see? He tells him and releases his binds. Leave. Sure thing Reg if you kill him please don’t get it on my bed. Red really isn’t my color. Evans out the door before he can turn towards Barty. He cancels the charm, now where were we? Oh yes, you being a filthy fucking traitor. I SPECIFICALLY ASKED YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM TWO PEOPLE. MY BROTHER AND POTTER. WHAT ABOUT THAT WASN’T CLEAR!

Barty: Resigned to his fate he slumps forward. I’m sorry reg I didn’t kiss him I know it doesn’t matter but he kissed me. It comes out so quiet he’s not sure if Regulus hears him. Scared to look up he doesn’t know what he’ll find. Contrary to popular belief he doesn’t want to hurt two people Evan or Regulus. They matter to him. More than most, even he knows that. Somehow he’s fucked this up too. Maybe his dad is right, maybe all he does is mess things up. When he looks up he knows that when his father tells him he’s a disappointment he’s never felt it as much as he does now. Regulus is beautiful raven curls, light brown freckles, full lips and startling grey eyes almost silver in the light. Right now he looks like he’s about to cry what’s worse is he looks at him like he’s lost. Like he’s looking at a stranger trying to find him. He feels his heart tugging at his chest like it’s ready to fall out. Not Reggie, he doesn’t want to hurt him. As quickly as the tears are there they are gone. His face is blank. Well I guess I’ll just have to visit James myself. Seeing as you’re not willing to tell me the truth. He wasn’t even aware regulus was asking him anything. This is the first in a long time he’s speechless.

Regulus: Leaves the room to go find Potter. Determined to get his answers one way or another. He’s not above using magical means or dark magic after all he’s a black might as well act like one.

[samyanggs]

Hello! Can u do headcanons of Buddha having a crush on a bunny!reader? Fellow Singaporean here!

Hihiii! yea I can and a fellow Singaporean? Pleasure to meet you :3 currently writing this after doing my chores so I’m a bit more tired than usual 🥲 have a good weekend btw

I js realized you said headcanons omg. Headcanons are at the very end 😭

“So goddamn hypnotizing..”

Warnings: none that I know of

Idrk how about bunny!reader but I’ll try my best! Thanks for requesting! Hope you have a great rest of your afternoon<3 I’m still having a headache so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense or is what you’re looking for I’m sorry for that 🙏🏽

Buddha walked through the many hallways to get to the garden. He liked the garden it was always empty and silent, perfect for him to snack or do whatever he needed. He expected it to be as empty and deserted as usual, what he didn’t expect was seeing- a bunny? No that was a person.. a bunny person?

He tilted his head to the side cocking his eyebrow in confusion. He walked up to you, you were looking at the flowers, tending to them making sure that they bloomed and flourished nicely. He walked up behind you, looking down at you, still sucking and licking his lollipop. His teeth bit into the lollipop on accident creating a sound that made your ears twitch. He saw your body tense up, making your ears rigid and straight. He eyed you as you turned around scared.

“How can I help you? Sir.” You said, softly, looking up at the other. Buddha noticed your discomfort and took a few steps back, giving you some space- that you were grateful for. He grunted.

“Nothing just wondering what a person was doing here” he said observing you. Now that he was looking at you from the front.. you were rather cute.. and pretty. You had nicely groomed bunny ears with silky, fluffy hair. He resisted the urge to pet you just to feel what it felt like. It looked extremely soft, so soft that he’d probably think it was a pillow if he was half asleep.

“Just looking at the flowers, they’re rather pretty during this time.. and because it’s quiet here..” you replied looking away and at the flowers, eyeing their beauty, the colours were bright and beautiful. “Don’t you think so?” You said, still looking at the flowers.

He snapped back to reality, he’d gotten lost in his thoughts of your prettiness.. what’s with him? He never acted like this before.. he shook his head. “Yea they are..” he said, watching you smile softly, looking at the flowers. His heart fluttered and he felt heat rising to his cheeks. He blinked. Why was he feeling like this? Why now? Why you? He questioned himself before realizing that you were now looking at him. He looked back at you. You were shocked, blushing and flustered.

“I- uh- I suppose it’s time for me to go. I’ve been here long enough.” You stuttered, avoiding eye contact. He nodded and bid you goodbye waving to you lazily as you walked away, fast and flustered.. he watched your retreating figure before looking at the flowers that you were tending too. They were beautiful.. like you. He smiled to himself. He wouldn’t mind meeting you again.. yea.. he’d enjoy seeing you again..

Headcanons!

Stares at you when he sees you in the garden while you’re tending to the followers because he can’t help but get lost in your beauty

Often goes to the garden just to see and talk to you and treasures all the times you talk to him in his heart

When he sees you cry or when you feel down, he tries his best to calm you down, hugging you, giving you snacks and/or gifting you something new to make you happy

Scared to ask you if he could pet you because you look so goddamn soft and fluffy he can’t help but wonder how it would feel to pet you.

He sometimes start blushing when you do something, he’s just fell that hard for you

He thinks about you a lot, thinking of your smile, the look in your eyes when you look at flowers, your eyes and everything else.

He pets you every now and then to feel the softness and the fluffiness, enjoys your flustered look after

He likes playing with your ears to fluster you and teasing you is his favourite part of his day

He thinks about how soft your ears and hair is a lot

[dantemisan]

Hewwo, what do u think going shopping with asl bros would be like? Could you do it as a headcanon? Thanks, honey😏🍡🍡

ㅡ 😏🍬🦇

Grocery shopping with ASL bro’s

Pairing: ASL bro’s x Reader

Genre: Fluff, [AU]

Warning: None

Words count: 0,4k

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It's so typical but it's so cool to write like that😏🥂 Btw since you didn't mention what pronouns to use in headcanons, I'll use gn! I hope you like it honey 😘🍯

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Since the appetite of your two guys is very large, you go to the shops almost every evening after work.

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Usually you go alone or with Sabo as your schedules converge but on weekends Ace with Luffy goes with you unless Luffy hangs out at his hommies

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if Luffy is at home, then he will definitely be the very first to go outside and will be waiting for you in the car. after you have gathered in the store in winter and he went out the very first in such summer fucking things, Sabo gives him the keys to the car so that he immediately sits inside, and does not stand in the cold in slippers, shorts and a summer shirt, scaring children in massive jackets

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After you've parked in the parking lot and entered the store, the clog usually helps you a lot, unlike the other two fools, hehe～

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Luffy will only help if you need to get a big piece of meat, yes

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And one more, Luffy takes you to the meat department first thing, no wonder😒

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Ace and Luffy are usually just giggling, looking at food and fooling around, picking on little kids, whatever, they can walk or their parents put them in a cart, these guys will ask them tricky questions.

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After that, you and Sabo hit them on the head, maybe the child's parent too.

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After they get big bumps on the top of their head they will get serious, well, at least Ace.

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He understood what was right and what was wrong, thanks to "angry mommy *bonk*" 🎉

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One day you meet Sanji in the fish department and you talking with him about all sorts of stupid things, good spices that would go with a certain type of fish and how to properly fillet fish, and Ace, Sabo & Luffy are like:🙄😐🤤

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You have to buy a lot of things, and sometimes you think that they have black holes instead of stomachs.

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actually it's true😔

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Ace is trying to reach for the flakes and cookies on the top shelves, I don't know, it just seems like he could show you how cool he is.

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Sometimes you ride Luffy in a cart, cutie ✨

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After you pay for the groceries, Ace and Luffy take the food bags from you and run to the car as fast as possible

[shai-manahan]

Hi! It's been a while since I've talked about the upcoming updates, but I finally had a chance to actually sit down and make plans! (the life of a corporate slave, am I right? 🙃)

It has something to do with the changes I will be implementing on my patreon, though. I've thought for a while how to give content that's worthwhile of subscriptions while also making sure I can be comfortable with them, and in all honesty, I had a tricky time doing it. HM is too personal for me, as I used to talk about before, and some of the patreon benefits I promised before eventually felt too revealing - of my own thoughts and people whose lives were a huge inspiration for this story.

I will be talking about these changes and the update schedules as well below the cut.

UPDATES

I aim to finish at least half of HM's Book 1 this year. It seems to be a more realistic goal than forcing myself to finish everything right away (which tbh may have been a huge pressure I put on myself the past few years), though admittedly, things are unpredictable in the field I'm in; my job is full of overtime hours, and I spend most of my weekends trying to recover (or sick).

Still, I gotta finish it one way or another, and it's not going to write itself (though I wish it would!), so yeah, set realistic deadlines, pull out a few all-nighters, and maybe I'll actually get through it, who knows?

I do hope I'll have steadier finances by the time Book 2 starts so I can put more focus on writing and have sufficient energy for it, but that's a conversation for another day.

Changes in Prologue - Chapter 2

Okay. I know I promised not to make revisions until I write more chapters, but changing how some game mechanics work and reworking the stats made it a necessity, and I underestimated how much rewriting I'd have to do. A few scenes ended up not working well anymore, and I couldn't resist from revising a few clunky sections while I was at it.

Dialogue options were one of those that were significantly affected by the stat changes, but no worries, nothing is changed in the story -- meaning Wesley still fucks with the Ripper's life (oops), Richard still goes off doing whatever non-sus thing he's doing, you can still punch Bale (it's even a lot funnier this time), Bertrand remains a bitchy cop, and you'll still have your sad flashback with your former best friend/lover/crush or whatever they are to your MC.

The plan is to release the updated version of Prologue and Chapter 1 to patrons by the end of March (I will have a few days off work that week) and release it to the public once the new content is also ready, which I presume will be available next month (I will keep you all posted but I really hope I can get it done by then because it's been forever 🥲).

I might tweak Chapter 2 a little so the available portion can stand on its own rather than be divided into two parts, because it's just too long lmfao and is harming the pacing as I keep worrying about the length. I'm also incorporating a few suggestions a few folks gave me these past few months.

Succeeding chapters

I've probably said this before but things are bound to get more insane in HM once we're past the first three to four chapters. But also quicker to write in a way. They're the kind of scenes I thrive in, and while they have bigger variations, they're a lot more fast-paced, characters start being manipulative little shits, and the threats are more prevalent than ever. Your Ripper will not have a good time, but I certainly will (I say as I look at my outline and get sad doing it). There will be a few "breaks" in between, but this is not and will never be a light-hearted story. Anyway, I'm inclined to believe I'll be more consistent with updates when that time comes, so bear with me for now :')

PATREON CHANGES

This is getting long, so I'll just list the updated tier benefits and end the day with it. I'll be posting a schedule that I will be committing to (here and on patreon tomorrow morning), with the below details as well (so if you wanna stop here that's totally valid) but for now, here's the tentative list:

Tier 1

Early access - 4 days before a public update (this month will be an exception and you'll get the update as soon as the other tiers get it, too).

Sneak peeks and deleted scenes - I included the latter because apparently I delete a lot of great scenes

Hints for future revelations in the story - the categories will depend on results of polls; the hints may be about Bale's death, about Ripper's family, Pharos, Cyro, the ROs themselves, or the nightmares that the MC is getting, etc. Might be in form of vague conversations/dialogues between unknown characters, might be me dropping subtle info about those involved. Either way, it will be fun :). The polls and these hints will be given monthly.

Tier 2

Early access - 1 week before a public update

all the other benefits for Tier 1

monthly RO snippets - I'm still experimenting with this, but I might simply write MC x RO snippets (with different kinds of MCs for different scenarios because I deeply hate writing blank slate MCs, sorry)

a choice to see the POV of a character, decided through polls, for every chapter/update.

Tier 3

Early access - as early as it's available and goes through testing stages

all other benefits for previous tiers

Non-RO short stories

Previews on unintroduced characters :)

That's all for tonight! I am so tired lmfao but I hope you all are having a great weekend so far! See you tomorrow :)

[spicywhenspeaking]

If I'm There: Chapter Eleven

Read from part one

Summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.....

this story will sometimes contain mature content, minors DNI

warnings: underaged drinking (don't do that!), mentions of alcohol abuse

taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens @thisbicc @thebadchic

“You're going to freak!” Noah says excitedly into the phone and I startle a little at the sudden mood shift. “Oh, what is it?” I ask. “Get this Natty. A band dropped out of the west coast leg of these guys' tour- Jasmine Feuds- and their manager asked us to join them.” what? “It's two weeks, eight shows along the east coast. Isn’t that amazing?” Noah’s voice is filled with a childlike glee, like this is the treasure he's been digging for all his life. “Oh, wow.” I fall back onto my bed, into the pillows.

The scrambling emotions in my head are all over the place, two weeks on the road seems like a lot but I guess I should just try and be supportive. “That sounds amazing Noah but, what about school?”

He lets out an unconcerned laugh “school is whatever, I’ll just make up the work when I get back but I don't really care because this is a huge for Iron Vendetta.” I pause. “Iron Vendetta?” I question.

He laughs again. “Yeah, we had to come up with something fast so they could put it on the flier.” It’s been a long weekend and I don’t quite know how to process this on top of everything else. I guess it’s really not that complicated…my mom just almost died from alcohol poisoning and now my boyfriend is telling me he's leaving for two weeks to go be a rockstar.

“You already said yes?” I finally ask in a small voice. We’ve only been dating for 5½ months but I figured he’d talk to me at least before committing to something like that. Wouldn’t a boyfriend do that? Not that I have anything to compare it to. I'm lost in my own thoughts and didn’t realize Noah had started talking. “-it’ll be insane Natty. Such a great opportunity, Kevin, the manager, said we’ll be playing in front of hundreds of people! Isn't that amazing?!”

The excitement in his voice is palpable but I can’t help but feel a sick heavy dread settling in my stomach. “Yeah, that sounds great Noah. Umm..I should really get started on some of my homework. When will you leave?” I ask. “End of the week..so I’ll need about every single second of your free time until then.” Despite the sadness I feel with the news of him leaving a small smile crosses my face at his words. “I want to get my fill of Natty time before being without you for two whole weeks.” 

After ending the call I work on my homework and prepare for the coming week. Monday comes and goes, Dad takes Mom to the treatment center and we go about seemingly normal. I spend a few nights at Noah's this week since he’s leaving soon but I tell my dad I’m with Maggie to keep him from freaking out. Kyle probably knows but doesn't say anything, which is a surprising change. I do have to push Noah out of bed those mornings so I can make it to school on time, he’s cute in the mornings. Friday morning we’re lazily cuddling and kissing, avoiding my alarm so we can steal more minutes together before he leaves tonight. I have work after school and he comes by on his way out of town. I take my fifteen-minute break making out with him outside of his car.

Nick was sitting in the passenger seat trying to busy himself with anything else. “I'm going to miss you so much Natty.” Noah says in between kisses. “I’m going to miss you too,” I respond hugging him close to me and resting my head against his chest as his arms pull tighter around me holding me closer. “I hope y'all have a good time, and I want to hear all about it when you get back.” My break is almost over so I’m leaning into his open window, “Good luck, and text me when you get to the first city okay?” I ask him and Nick. “yes ma’am” Nick responds playfully. As they drive away and I head back into work I try to shake off the feeling of loss. He’s coming back. Two weeks will go by fast. 

The first few days of the tour go well, I hear from Noah and Nick sporadically, with short texts and five-second phone calls before bed. On Thursday night I’m studying for a test after school and my phone lights up with his contact photo. It's him drinking a coffee I made him at work.

I answer excitedly “Hey Noah! I’m so glad you called! I’ve missed you so much!” There's loud music in the background “One sec-hicup-ond Natty, imtryna get outside,” Noah slurs and my heart falls. I haven't heard from him in a couple days and he's calling me drunk. What the hell. I can hear shuffling on the line and the music is slowly fading. “Okay babyy, I’m finally outside. I miss you, i cantwait to see you-hic- next Friday.” I hear the crunching of leaves under his heavy footsteps. “God, I miss how good you smell.” He huffs out as the footsteps stop and I’m guessing he finds a seat. “Noah? Are you okay? Are you drunk?” I ask. He laughs and hiccups like a child that's been caught with a cookie after bedtime. “Imnoth at drunk Nattty. Just had some driniks after teh show.”

His words all blend togher and It sends me back to conversations with my own mother. When I would ask her for help with my homework and she would slump over the table, her wine breath wafting over and infecting the air I was breathing. “Um Noah, maybe we should talk tomorrow when you're feeling more like yourself,” I say to him swallowing the pain in my throat. “Noo baby, plea-burp-se I need to hear your voice, I miss you so-hup-much.” My Mom used to drink and cry to my brother and I about how much she missed our Dad. “I’m sorry Noah, I can’t talk to you right now.” The freshness of my Mom's overdose still weighs heavy on me. “I love you so much Natty, you know that? You’re the prettiest girl ever.” I hear him yawn and hope Nick is somewhere close and sober. “Okay, I love you too, call me tomorrow okay?” He sighs and takes a deep breath “okay baby, I will callyou tomoro.” I click the end-call button and send a quick text to Nick. 

Natalie: are you with Noah? He just called me very drunk :/… 10:34pm

Nick: Yeah, sorry Nat. He had one to many after the show. I got him. 10:50pm

The next morning Noah doesn't call and I try not to think about it but I definitely feel frustration starting to build. Noah keeps promising to call and text but then never does or forgets and leaves me on read. I try to just focus on the school day and around lunch when I'm sitting with Maggie in the art room he finally texts me. 

Noah: Hey Natty. I’m so sorry about last night. 11:36am

Noah: I shouldnt have had that much to drink last night. 11:36am

Noah: can I call you when you get out for the day? 11:36am

Natalie: It’s okay noah. 11:45am

Natalie: I have work right after school 11:45am

Natalie: I can call you when I get off, it’ll be around 9pm. 11:47am

Noah: we go on at 8:45 tonight…can I call you after? 11:48am

Natalie: um…sure. I’ll try to stay up. 12:00pm

Noah: okay! Love you baby 12:01pm

Natalie: love u 2. 12:05pm

“So he finally texted back huh?” Maggie sneers slightly. She’s almost more upset about how he has been acting than me. “Yeah, he wants to call me tonight but I don’t know how late it will be,” I explain to her. “So what? You’re just going to sit around your phone all night waiting for him to call.” I understand she's just trying to be a supportive friend but I’m really trying to be positive about this whole thing. I knew he’d be busy on this tour and I’m trying to be the cool understanding girlfriend. “I’m not going to just wait around, if he calls me before I fall asleep then we will talk, or we’ll talk later. I knew this would be a busy trip for him.” I attempt to defend the situation even though I also find myself frustrated. She drops it after noticing me growing more upset. The rest of the day goes by and Maggie drives the two of us to work after school. 

Friday nights have been super busy lately since the owner started having live music. Tonight playing is a singer/songwriter from Austin named Naomi King, she's so cool and her music is soft and emotional. She grabs a tea after her session and we talk a little. “So what's life like in this little town?” she asks. “Austin isn't huge but the music, the nightlife, and the atmosphere makes it seem bigger. I can’t wait to go home soon. This was my last little stop on my way home.” she tells me, sipping her peppermint tea. “Oh wow, that sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to get somewhere bigger than this place. It feels so small, shallow.” I reply. “I want to see what the world has to offer.” 

I end up staying later to help finish cleaning duties and once I get home and shower I don’t have the energy to stay awake to wait for Noah's call. 

In the morning I see I have an eight-minute long voicemail from Noah left at 2:34am. I press play and there's loud music playing in the background. He’s not saying anything so I’m confused, it’s not until I hear another muffled voice talking that I realize he pocket-dialed me.

“So do you think ya’ll join us in the next leg thats coming up?” a female voice asks.

rustle rustle “uh I’m not sure” Noah says but I hear what I think is Julius says “Hell yeah, we wouldnt miss that shit!” 

“Come on Noah, I miss you to much if you didn’t come.” the girls voice says again.

As much as I wanted to stop listening I feel the seed of jealousy taking root. Who is this girl? Why didn't he mention there was another girl on tour? Is that important? I feel like he should have at least said something.

“I dont know…maybe.” Noah says. 

“Maybe? Fuck this” I mumble to myself and exit the voicemail.

I text Maggie what happened, I know she already has a bit of a bad taste in her mouth from what I’ve already confided to her. But, I needed to talk to someone and Kyle and I aren’t there yet.

Maggie: WHAT THE FUCK?! 8:36am

Maggie: WHAT GIRL??? HOLD ON! 8:36am

Maggie: Im looking on instagram rn! 8:36am

I dont have instagram, I had a facebook for a couple of weeks but it was boring and my grandma kept sending me farmville requests so I deleted it.

Maggie: OMG! LOOK! 8:44am

Photo: Noah and a large group. He’s standing next to a girl and her hand is arround his waist, his arms are resting across his chest. The caption reads: “having so much fun touring with these guys! They are great!” and the user name is Alex Jacks.

Maggie: looks like shes the guitarist for Jasmines Fudes. 8:44

I’m staring at the photo she sent me. She’s so pretty. She’s so cool, she has long black hair with blue and pink streaks. She has tattoos and a lip ring. 

The jealousy I felt before is now a wild fire burning through my heart.

Part 12 here! !!!! xoxox later besties

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 4

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia

Synopsis:  When falling in love is the easy part where does the difficulty lie? In a society where we’re defined by our job, it’s those little details as a relationship goes on that ends up setting a course for whether or not a couple can make it in the long run

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

As a cherry on top of an otherwise roller coaster meeting, Donatello hit you with a one-two punch before departing. The first being that he had a change in schedule that required his attendance that weekend. It meant he would not be able to continue his sandwich escapade until Monday. The second was that in accordance with this change he would lighten the restrictions on texting.

On one hand, it meant that your fourth meeting would again coincide with work; something that you were hoping to avoid. As you made your way back to your building, you were plotting any number of ways you could avoid your boss’s attention. Risking a tongue lashing was worth it for Donatello, but that didn’t mean you’d walk into the scenario willingly.

Alternatively, you now had free reign to bother the object of your affection as much as you wanted; within reason, at least. He’d been quick to add that he preferred substantial conversation be made in person and you got that sense that he was testing you again. The weekend now felt like a trial run on whether or not you could keep your new privileges and somehow, even though it felt acutely childish, it also struck you as a fun gambit. Hopping up the steps to your high-rise, you yanked on a door with twirling force.

-

 You: and they only told me to that I needed to pick-up the coffee when I was already standing in front of the building!

Donatello: A pathetic mismanagement of time and resources.

Kicking your legs hard enough to make your office chair rock back and forth, you put your phone back down on your desk. Against all odds, Donatello had been a relatively attentive texting partner though you had taken great care in crafting your messages. You’d given him a reprieve until Saturday and then opened mid morning with brunch conversation. He found the conventions of which overblown and you’d used that as a jumping off point. It was curious that his responses came at a surprising pace considering he had plans, but you weren’t about to point that out. He’d been pretty clear about what he’d divulge and even if you were curious, it was still early enough in whatever this was that it wasn’t about to be an issue.

You straightened.

Had he just called you a resource?

Bouncing on the idea, your chair squeaked as you went for your phone again. It was just begging to be addressed.

“So, that’s it…”

Stalling and instinctively shoving your phone under a folder, you darted up to see a co-worker hanging off the wall of your cubicle.

You gave the man a soured glance and pulled your phone back out. You weren’t on ‘go to lunch with’ sort of terms with this employee, but you’d built up an ‘office gossip’ sort of rapport. “Happy Monday to you too.”

“Who’s the beau?” He took a sip of his water bottle.

You sunk down until your chest was almost touching your desk. “That obvious?”

“Only if we add in those late lunches…?” He trailed off with a smarmy grin that said you had to respond even though he already knew the answer.

Finally collapsing down, you held your phone outstretched and activated it out of habit. “Fine, yes. I met someone on my lunch break.”

“Is he hot?” Your co-worker pulled his arm free from the metal frame to enter your space.

“Yes, but I don’t have any pictures yet.”

“Too bad.” The man nearly sang the phrase.

You hummed in agreement when his introductory phrase came to mind. “What did you mean earlier?”

“The boss wants to see you.”

You shot up so fast the papers on your desk flittered away from the movement.

Your co-worker smirked into another sip.

“You didn’t think to, I don’t know, open with that?!”

“I had to find out why. Thankfully it was written all over your face.”

You glowered at him as your quickly snatched up any necessary paperwork. “Big help.”

“Anytime.”

“So, that’s just it? He’s mad about the lunches?” Making sure to lock up your bag with the phone inside in case someone got any bright ideas, you rounded your desk to stare the man down.

“He didn’t seem mad actually.”

You squinted.

“Maybe a little mad.”

You folded your arms.

“Look.” The man finally relented by bringing his bottle up. “He just laid into me for filling up my water too often and then asked me to grab you next. It’s going to be one of those days. Everyone’s going to get their ass chewed out.”    

“Was that so hard?” You huffed, exiting your cubicle with him in tow.

“It was less fun!”

With a flick of your wrist you banished your co-worker as you took a sharp corner. Your boss had a windowed office down the hall and you headed towards it. The blinds inside were pulled shut which was never a good sign. He was the kind of man that liked to keep them open for peak vigilance. Already dreading the exchange, you marched up to the door and rapped your knuckles on the glass. From inside there was a muffled affirmation.

Opening the door revealed your boss at his desk with his elbows craned to the tabletop. From there his fingers were thread which obscured his mouth from view.

Either he watched one too many anime in his day or he really was just that cartoonishly evil.

“Y/N.”

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

It was playing out the lines of a surreal office drama.

“18, 27, 36.”

You stared at him blankly.

He stood, his thin gaze focused solely on your face.

“Some type of lotto numbers?” You knew that wasn’t the answer, but you needed something to break the silence.

“That’s over an hour of time.”

You gave a tight nod and tried to keep your mouth in a similarly taunt line.

Your boss sighed and one of his arms fell over. You watched as he groaned into standing until both palms were flat on his desk and he was hovering over it. “How long are you going to play dumb?”

Any answer would be used against you so you pleaded the fifth.

“The lunches!” Your boss roared and slammed one of his hands down for an echoing thud. “All last week you took longer and longer lunches.”

It was only Wednesday on, but interjecting that fact now wouldn’t help your case.

“Did you think no one would notice? Your co-workers certainly did! Imagine them coming to me when they can’t seem to find you?”

He was lying through his teeth. Barely a soul in this company bothered to communicate without an email’s read receipt.

“How am I supposed to get anything done like that? While you’re gallivanting off, who knows where, on company time!”

“I’m sorry, sir-”

“Sorry, huh?” He clipped your apology with a sneer. “Not sorry enough to inform anyone of your absence or offer to make up for the lost time!” He snapped upright in a rigid fashion, but then his spine seemed to loll as if it were made of jelly. “So, you admit that you thought you’d just get away with it? That you deserved special privileges that none of your fellow associates have? That I would surely be too busy to notice? That your time is worth far more than anyone else’s?”

A hundred defenses sat on your lips, but you crushed them by squeezing them together until it stung your jaw.

“At least you know enough when you keep quiet.”

You loathed this bastard.

“That means you’re not a lost cause.” His shoulders heaved forward as he rounded the desk. “You’ll make up the 81 minutes with your lunch break today.”

You had meant to stay neutral. Even the slightest move would act against you, but at the command your shoulders seized up in fear.

Donatello in his black coat flashed in your mind’s eye.

“Oh, sorry.” On that springy spine, your boss bounded forward to catch a bottom up look at your face. “Am I interrupting something or do you actually want to keep your job?”

One of your eye lids twitched and you hoped from his awkward angle that he hadn’t picked it up. The exaggerated candor of his voice grated on your ears in a way that made you sick to your stomach.

“You’ll take your lunch, of course. State laws and all, but you’ll have to move your plans. Oh, wait…”

Since his gaze was still trained on your face, you flexed your fingers before knuckling them white.

“No need to bother heading back to your desk! Did I mention it’s already prepared for you?” He rolled back, leaning a little too far. “That’s just how considerate I am! Even when an employee doesn’t return that same sort of thing!”

You watched him your jaw so tight it was near spasming. 

He walked the few feet over to the cord in the corner of his office and pulled swiftly. It opened up the blinds to a view of the office. Several employees nervously glanced at the move out of their periphery wanting to see who’s head was on the chopping block, but not wanting to bring attention to themselves to be next.

“See that copier.” He pointed and you moved your body stiffly. Said machine had a multiple daunting stacks of paper shoved onto the desk beside it along with multiple repurposed postal crates below.

“Yes.”

“You’ll need to scan all that and file it accordingly.”

They had a kid for this. A grunt hired on part-time for this kind of menial task.

“Oh, and do remember to remove and re-staple each document after scanning! Don’t want to jam the poor thing up!”

Hard copies weren’t even kept. Shredding was something else the part-timer did.

“When you’re done, you can take your lunch. I’ll even adjust it so you can still go home on time. Quite gracious of me, don’t you think?”

You’d quit right on the spot if you had anything else lined up.

Returning to food service never looked so good.

“What was that?” Your boss mimed putting a hand to his ear.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” You could only manage the barest of nods and he seemed to relish in your silent fury.

“Call Bernie over next on your way out.” There was the sharp noise of the blinds closing again and you turned for the door. You heard your boss retreat and assumed he was falling back into the asinine posing he’d concocted. Crossing the space to the copier, you caught the next victim’s eye and signaled to him that his time had come. The man scurried away and you seethed into the first page. Picking it up found dozen of documents in the first stack with only a couple of pages stapled together in each set. Anger depleted at the futility of it all. You couldn’t even sneak away to tell Donatello you’d be late.

You really hated your boss.

-

Belting down the sidewalk, you narrowly miss several pedestrians as you ran towards the sandwich shop. The scanning hadn’t taken as long as you thought, but you were still almost two hours late. Donatello hadn’t even sent you a questioning text.

Did he think you’d ditched him?

Had he simply left?

There was no way anyone sensible would still be waiting.

Still, you ran.

Closing in on the shop’s door at an alarming pace, you threw on the brakes in a manner that had your heels grinding against the concrete. Stopping shy of the door, you didn’t see his large figure inside, but this shop had some rustic décor that would have been easy to conceal him. In the barest form of your reflection, you attempted to smooth you the jog’s ruffling before grabbing the door handle. You gave a sharp tug that it protested before you realized it was a push door.

Choosing to believe you were burning from the exertion and not embarrassment, you shoved the large wooden thing. It heaved open and you took several hurried steps inside before it gave you enough vantage to view the space.

Your heart sank.

He wasn’t there.

Your shoulders gave out and your arms dangled pathetically. With weak limbs you procured your phone to find your messages in the same state as when you had run out of your building. Bitterly you guessed that your boss would at least be satisfied to find there was no chance you’d be late again. Sighing, you hovered a thumb over a text window to type a message. You got out exactly four letters when a sharp stream of cold air blew against your neck and down your collar.

You yelped at the sensation; goosebumps cropping up on your arm. Several patrons looked towards you and you slapped a hand to the back of your neck. Spinning around, you stared up, scandalized, as Donatello watched you with the corner of his mouth quirked.

Damn him and his love of scaring people.

“What are you still doing here?!” You hissed, still rubbing your neck.

He straightened up and gave the barest shrug. “Taking a late lunch.”

Your hand fell away as you stared at him. He evaluated you flatly in return.

He’d waited.

All that time.

A few clucking chuckles petered out of you before you started laughing. One of his brows raised at the action and you had to put a hand to your stomach to keep from doubling over.

“A-Ah, sorry!” You waved at him, trying to reign yourself in.

He continued to watch.

“I just imagined you, waiting behind the door all that time!”

You could sense the way he soured though his face were clean of any unsavioriness.  

“Thank you.” You came out of your fit with your eyes shining and beamed him a smile.

He took it in and brushed past you.

Rapidly becoming accustomed to the song and dance, you chased after him without hesitation.

He got to the counter before you could properly catch his side so you waited as he placed the order. You watched his interaction and remembered how he’d mentioned this place’s archaic ordering system. From the look of the shop it seemed more probable that they forwent online ordering to preserve the ambiance. He paid again and you cursed yourself for getting caught up in errant thoughts.

“That puts me three behind.” You griped as he lead the charge to the table.

“A scoreboard that only you will be keeping track of.” He tucked himself into a chair and regarded you languidly.

“You have to care some. It’ll get annoying if only you pay!” Taking your own seat, you looked at him with set features.

His flat gaze said it wasn’t worth his time.

You sighed.

“I’m more interested in what kept you.”

Coming off the puff of air, you looked away. It might be another thing only you were keeping tally of, but your boss had already been giving way too much air time. From texts to capping off nearly every meeting, you hated the thought of giving that guy one more second.

“I had… work to catch up on.” It was the kind of sentence you only decided on about halfway through. It meant it would either sound unconvincing or exhausted. Checking back with your companion found him staring with what felt like a higher intensity.

Or it could have been the guilt talking.

“You know, from being late?” You offered, turning towards him in hopes the move would read more open.

For the first time his stoic gaze felt suffocating.

You drowned under the weight of it until he shifted his position.

“What about you?”

“You already thanked me.” He reached into his coat and you watched curiously.

“I mean… Yeah, I did, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still curious. You waited all that time and didn’t send a message? How long would you have waited if I hadn’t shown up when I did.”

He pulled out something you couldn’t quite see and removed his glasses. You stared, taking in his relatively unmarred face greedily as he seemingly adjusted them. You wondered if he ever went out without the bandana before he donned his frames again. Adjusting through the colored lenses, his attention drifted towards the kitchen.

“Donatello.” You gave a scolding note to your voice.

Had he done all that in an attempt to throw you off his scent?

It had almost worked, but that wasn’t the point.

His eyes returned to the table, but avoided yours in a way that brought your brows up. Whatever he wasn’t saying was something he really wanted to avoid. It made you all the more curious.

“I don’t…” He started and his lips curled slightly showing his distaste in the peek of a canine. “Like to speak in uncertainties.”

You straightened as the statement absorbed into your person.

He didn’t know.

Your stomach flipped.

He didn’t know how long he would have waited for you.

He had done many things at this point that did it for you, but something about this one in particular warmed your cheeks. You brought up a hand in an attempt to cool them when you caught a glimpse of a waitress walking over. She had thankfully come with your meals and you bobbed an embarrassed nod at her in appreciation. She took it with a knowing giggle and scurried away so as not to interrupt further.

“I like you.” The phrase jumped off your lips and you moved to close them off with a bite of your sandwich.

“You’ve made that abundantly clear.” There was an amused air to his voice.

“Seriously though…” The rhythm of chewing had an oddly soothing effect. “I’m gonna have to haul ass back to work after this. I can’t be late again.”

From where he was about to take his first bite, Donatello halted and looked straight at you.

It was only then that it dawned on you that you might have negated your earlier boss dodging comment.

“You got in trouble.”

His careful eye was a blessing and a curse.

“I… was hoping not to get into it.” You tucked your gaze into your bread.

“For my sake or yours?”

Within a blink, your eyes widened. “What?”

He gave his usual silence.

“No.” You finally looked at him. “I’m not expecting you to repeat yourself, I actually don’t know what you mean.”

He seemed to take in two things at once.

You realized you had yet to verbally confirm you’d deciphered that bit of his speaking mannerisms.

You’d been hoping to keep that one closer for a little longer, but it was bound to come out sooner or later.

“You’re one to speak your mind, but you also pay far too much attention to me.”

He’d seen right through you.

 “I could be trying harder to get another job…” The muscles in your shoulders bunched up.

His eyes shot downward and then right back to you.

You wilted under it, but he didn’t follow it up with anything else. Unsure yourself, you moved back to your sandwich. He didn’t resume eating and his intense gaze continued to bore into you.

“I’d love to, but unfortunately I can’t read your mind.” You finally forced out when you couldn’t take the atmosphere any longer. 

He continued the stifling leer for several more seconds before he broke it. He turned his head fully away and then spoke only out of the corner of his mouth. “If it’s upsetting you, then feel free to talk about it.”

Your features softened. “It won’t bother you?”

He huffed. “That is the exact sort of response I was hoping to avoid.”

Whatever gooeyness coating your features translated to your innards feeling similarly like mush.

He certainly didn’t want to answer your question because he would out how kind he was being.

Overwhelmed by the feeling, you gently kicked his leg from beneath the table.

While he didn’t exactly look offended, he seemed it. In retaliation and in spite of the table’s protest, he folded his legs away from you.

“Eat. You’re wasting time playing footsie.”

Giggling down at your meal, there was a sobering quality to your sandwich. There was something else to this meal you’d almost forgotten. As you picked it up, the heft of it being the last one weighed heavily in your hands. You took a small bite, but the time constraints meant you couldn’t make it last. “I had to do a bunch of busy work to make up for the cumulative hours I’ve missed.”

Across from you Donnie finally began to eat.

“It’s stupid because we literally have an employee for that. I’m sure it was some stupid pseudo-example of office power dynamic garbage.”

You scarfed down several bites in annoyance.

“There wasn’t even a threat of being late again! I just don’t want to give him any more fodder to complain!”

Your sandwich was slowly disappearing.

“Not… that it matters after this…”

The feeling you’d been trying to chase away with your latent angry reared its head.

You hadn’t made those additional plans.

“Does your company participate in those lax days?”

“Lax like casual Friday?”

He gave a nod.

“Not really, though everyone has a TGIF sense and less work definitely gets done at the end of the week.”

You took another bite and something about the conversation jogged your memory. When you brought your attention back to Donatello, he seemed to be waiting with a knowing look.

“If it’s on Friday when everyone else is loose with lunch hours than he can’t whine!”

“As long as that’s the case.”

“But… this is the last shop.”

“There are others.”

“No, you were very clear about there being four.”

He gave you his patented look.

You gave a coy one of your own and he deferred against it having not realized you were messing with him. You wanted to relish in his embarrassment, but there was simply no time. “Won’t that interrupt your sandwich study?”

“There was no exact time frame.”

You smiled.

“Finish.”

It was a reminder so you dove back into your sandwich. Polishing the last bite off, you looked up at him curiously and he nodded in a way that meant you’d cleared the ticking threshold. You noticed he hadn’t finished his meal and he simply wrapped it back up in response.

“Did this shop…?” You turned, ready to pounce on more staff.

“No, since I missed my usual consumption window, I’m not as hungry. Otherwise, they were a decent showing.”

“I wish my body worked like that.”

He gave a tepid shrug and you both packed up to leave.

“Ugh, I don’t want to go back yet! We’ve barely spoken!” You gave a dramatic flourish and jumped ahead a few steps. He watched on dully as you turned and held out a longing hand to him.

He allowed you to hold the pose for several beats before making a large sidestep to open the door. Your laughter chased after him.

“Dinner typically takes longer.”

You only heard the comment as you passed by him to head outside. You double took so quickly you almost reentered the restaurant.

“Are…” You held your breath. “You have to clarify if you’re asking me out.”

He stepped closer as he let the door close and you hadn’t quite moved away. Before you could give him his space, he crowded yours in a manner that brought his face right up to yours. “Thursday, go on a date with me. I’ll make a reservation.”

From where you were holding your breath, you were surely suffocating as your forgot how to take in anymore.

He was so close.

The way he’d said it.

You wanted to ascend.

“You have to confirm if you want it to happen.”

“Yes!” You watched, up close, as he winced when it came out a little too loudly. “Yes, yes, a million times yes!”

“I’m regretting my decision already.”

“I’ll see you Thursday… wait and then lunch on Friday?!”

He straightened up and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Remembering this probably fell into the repetition category, you adjusted yourself and gave him your best molten stare in gratitude. “I’ll be waiting for the details.”

He gave a nod that seemed tight for a different reason and departed.

You resisted the urge to click your heels as you headed the opposite way.

NEXT

[helyeahmangocheese]

Give me the bipolar2!percy headcanons, my good royalty of ambiguous gender.

I have Bpd!Percy as a massive headcanon for him ^__^

okok this is just gonna be an info dump of what comes to mind and mostly comes from my own experiences/how I read percy but since you so kindly asked:

its onset is probably closer to the first Great Prophecy — not that hypomania wasn't brewing for multiple reasons and not that he hadn't already experienced depression but I do imagine that further into his teens he becomes more and more sleepless abt his inevitable death and he starts feeling more ok with so called risky behaviors

lol on that note he'd mess with annabeth and snack on her melatonin gummies casually before bed. it wouldn't do anything to him and he's not trying for that either—the strawberry ones just kinda taste good tho

realtalk this is honestly really unhealthy but he's probably convinced all is fine when he goes hypomanic during dangerous quests (particularly during HoO). this is the only time he truly believes he can do the world-saving, legendary things that he /is/ capable of. it's not necessarily that he has an "overinflated" self image—he's just at the point where he's willing to take the risks per the quest and believe he can pull it off. which honestly is often required for those moments, and that's why the cycles are so hard.

same with his having "grandiose plans" or having all this energy despite getting no sleep—it's all just his body coping with excessive trauma and unrealistic expectations on these quests, that's how he pulls it all off. is it technically a hypomanic episode? will he eventually crash? yes and yes, but he's also the son of Poseidon so wyd. he needs to have a plan and he needs to believe he can pull it off. he needs to pull it off.

oh but I would love to see percy's rapid speech written out as dialogue. like, explaining a plan he has but it's too fast and he explains it backwards but he doesn't even realize that not everybody is on the same level as him in the moment. bc that's what it's like in both types of episodes—just constant confusion abt where you are and why others aren't there with you.

his depressive episodes are fucking awful after quests and it takes a similar hit to him when nobody else seems to feel as deeply as he does about it. he falls back into self deprecation and it's really confusing for people to witness and experience these "two types of Percy." he's really not a fan of people labeling it that.

sometimes he just won't talk after and the best thing at that point is to just be around him let him choose how to express himself—because he's honestly really creative. music and painting kind of let him sit with whatever emotions, whatever episode he's experiencing, process it, and share afterwards. he's very vivid when explaining his experiences, he just needs time, and he needs to feel in control while also not self-isolating.

annabeth does a really good job of making sure he's not ever alone in a risky way while also giving him space and also they parallel play a lot.

outside of episodes, he just feels things very deeply in general. he loves deeply, he mourns deeply. when he says he feels for you, he fucking means it.

he doesn't necessarily rapid-cycle, but he has both types of ADHD so he has to be very careful about the lines between hyperfixation and hypomania. and inattentiveness vs literally just being dissociated. bc holy shit he did NOT see that coming when he started New Rome University—my boy managed to panic-complete all of his assignments during the week, go out every weekend out of FOMO, and then crashed so hard during winter break back home that I'm honestly pretty sure this is when they diagnose him.

bc tbh all of the other symptoms popping up during SON/MOA era and particularly through/after going through Tartarus made a lot of sense. but he was hoping it'd be over after he stopped feeling the need to sacrifice sleep to protect Annabeth every night, etc. the fact that uni became one of his triggers after hs was a total sideswipe.

boy was hypomanic during hoh-boa and when apollo saw him in that whole "please god not this again" state in toa he was in the corresponding depression tbh. idk if that lines up w the timeline but it's probably true.

also one of his "risky behaviors" is getting into so many commitments with various friend groups that he can't juggle them all but can he really help it bc he's loyal? like is it his fault that he's for some reason managing multiple club sports teams because he likes the people and he picked up so many different sports/hobbies out of boredom the last time he wasn't sleeping more than 4 hours a night? oops!

it also probably works that annabeth doesn't mind taking care of finances bc he will impulse spend it on these hobbies when he has all that hypomanic energy. love u bby boy me too.

literally word vomit but I hope that made sense and Im happy to elaborate or discuss heh! also: thank u for being absolutely correct abt my gender