#when I tell you I love them so much it’s not normal
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ARTRICK BOT RELEASE !!! (11/13/24) ⌢⠀ 🎾 .ᐟ
art donaldson ・゜゜・.coach's orders. you’re art’s newest player— an up-and-coming name in the tennis world— but you’re stubborn and prone to working yourself to the bone in the name of the game. tashi would’ve loved you if she’d gotten her hands on you first, but you’re here with him, on his private backyard court, listening to his advice about your game and ultimately, your career. and damnit, art’s not going to take that for granted (even if it means pushing the delicate boundaries between an athlete and their coach). you’ve got to learn how to relax, and art’s not opposed to bending you over the net if that’ll fix things.
art donaldson ・゜゜・.lesson planning. it’s your first year having a hands-on role in building out and finalizing the curriculum for the middle school english department, but your focus has been equally split between what books your kids are going to read and the head of the english department himself, mr. donaldson. you’d been wary to accept such a high responsibility in the first place, but he’d insisted that you help him review the materials during prep week, and you'd never say no to art… even if it means awkwardly dancing around the fact that you’re both clearly into one another— oh, and that he’s finally taken off his wedding ring.
art and patrick ・゜゜・.night of the living frat! it really should be sacrilegious that sigma chi’s hosting a costume party just a week after halloween, but none of the brothers had been able to resist yet another party before finals overtook the rest of the semester. besides— who passes up a chance to dress up and drink? the music’s loud, the drinks are a-flowin’, and you’d never be able to tell that tonight isn’t halloween. no one’s the wiser… which only makes it harder for art and patrick to keep their hands to themselves and their heads out of the gutter when you eventually materialize. hopefully they can convince you to stay the night… if they can remember how to share first.
patrick zweig ・゜゜・.mr. z. everyone loves mr. zweig— or “mr. z” as the students like to call him— and as the newest teacher amongst the faculty ranks, he’s quick to make nice and befriend everyone, including you. normally, you’d normally be skeptical of a washed-up pro tennis player coming to fill in the vacant gym teacher position, but you instead find yourself spending more time with patrick and enjoying yourself. it’s only a matter of time before you realize that lines are blurring and that whatever is going on between you both is way more than a friendship between fellow teachers coworkers.
patrick zweig ・゜゜・.shopping spree. frequent trips to the high-end side of the city had never been your sort of thing thing, but now that you’re dating patrick they’ve become a weekly occurrence. you never leave empty-handed, and it’s always on his dime (at his insistence, of course, it’s all chump change to him anyway). who cares about the staring you two get when he totes you and your purchases of the day around the city?— he’s the one that gets to go about his business with you on his arm. everyone else is just lucky he just can’t help showing you off while he does.
got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 5.2K AND 2 MIL+ CHATS! this is actually insanity i don't even know what to say or how to feel but thank you thank you 😭😭😭😭😭😭 challengers brainrot has struck again (big surprise) these are all mostly aus— the art and pat teacher bots (lesson planning + mr. z) are based off of headcanons by dearest mars (the lovely @saintzweig) and the shopping spree pat bot is based off of the moodboard by my true love @diyasgarden !!! please please please please please give my lovely moots a follow bc without them (and everyone else) i would not have any ideas and you all would just be subjected to the whistling wind that blows in my head when nothing is going on in there (which happens often!) love love LOVE you guys for real i am so grateful for all of the support and giggles that we all have <33333333333
#c.ai creator#voidsuites bots#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson bot#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig bot#artrick#artrick x reader#artrick bot#c.ai#bot reqs#character ai#challengers#challengers x reader#challengers 2024#challengers 2024 bots
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"I'm done blaming myself for your mistakes"
This line by Vi pretty much sums up her conflict in Act 1 of season 2, but I have yet to see it discussed. The point is, in fact, that Vi does blame herself, which is why she is unable to properly call Cait out. If Jinx specifically were not the one responsible for Cassandra's death, I doubt Vi would have stayed silent in front of Cait calling Zaunites animals or that she would have accepted many of Cait's actions without saying a word.
Vi still feels at fault for Powder becoming Jinx, which makes her vulnerable and willing to compromise on her morals, so that Caitlyn would not leave her. Ironically, I think this behavior is among the reasons why their love story does not work out in the first Act. They fail to communicate properly.
On the one hand Cait treats Vi badly. She insults Vi's people and insists that Vi should become an enforcer, despite her knowing of Vi's painful past. Obviously this is wrong, but personally I think it stems from Caitlyn's poor attempt to reconcile her love for Vi with her hate for Jinx:
"Three faces keep spinning through my mind. I see mother when they found her. And every fiber of me just sinks like in dark water. But then there is Jinx. Laughing. I want to tear that laugh from her throat forever. Then I see Vi. I asked her to put on the uniform. Suffice to say, she declined."
Cait's solution is to have be become a part of her society, so that she can keep on hating Jinx and the "bad" Zaunites, while loving Vi and the "good" Zaunites. Except it obviously does not work.
On the other hand Vi is unable to call Cait out. And the whole point is that Cait needed someone to call her out. She is grieving, but she is obviously becoming like the enforcers she once despised. Like the enforcers Vi despised. She negates Cassandra's legacy, by using her ventilation system to poison the air. She acts cruelly against a man, who is unharmed and who has clearly been hurt by that same gas she weaponized. She is ready to shoot a child (even if she does not intend to kill her), so that she can get at Jinx. Vi clearly sees all of this, which is why she asks Cait not to change:
Vi: Everyone in my life has changed. Promise me you won't change.
However, she fails to confront Cait about it all. Except that when you are in a relationship, you must feel secure and free to call the other person out. Even to get into a fight with the other person. Still, Vi is so terrified of losing Cait too, that she is indecisive. And in the end she is tragically left behind by Cait.
This happens because Vi herself has not yet decided who she wants to be. Is she a Zaunite or an Enforcer? Does she want to kill Jinx or not? Vi can't choose. Jinx even calls her out on this:
Jinx: Plastering my face all over, so someone else would do your dirty work?
She tells Cait she wants Jinx dead, but the moment she can kill Jinx she doesn't. Sure, Isha comes between them, but after Cait disarms Isha, Vi could pretty easily take Isha away from Jinx and let Cait kill her sister. However, she does not. That is clearly because she sees Powder in Isha. Jinx and Isha embraced are clearly representative of who Jinx is as a whole. She is an unstable terrorist, but she is also a hurt child. That is who Jinx is and that is what Vi (and Jinx herself) needs to see and to reconcile. Even now, Vi insists that Powder is dead and that only Jinx remains. However, Jinx is Powder no matter how much Silco, Jinx herself and Vi insist she isn't. She still clearly is.
It is just that Powder has changed, but this is normal. Just like it is normal Vi herself has changed and will need to change again, so that she can decide who she really wants to be. Just like Jinx and just like Cait will have to do.
As a side note, I am loving the foiling between Cait and Jinx. They have always been foils, but while last season focused on how this juxtaposition impacts Jinx, right now we are seeing how it impacts Cait.
In season 1, Jinx sees Cait as Vi replacing her. In a sense, Jinx's jealousy of Vi stems from that same inability to accept change. Jinx too deep down hopes she can go back to being the innocent Powder and that Vi can love her, like she did in the past. However, that is not possible because people change and forge new relationships. Jinx forges a bond with Silco she can't simply erase because Vi wants to. Just like she can't erase the one with Vi simply because Silco wants to. Similarly, Vi has a new bond with Cait that she can't break simply because Jinx asks her to. So, Caitlyn is really who Jinx wants to be. Someone complementary to Vi in battle, but also reliable, dependent, lovable. By the end of season 1, Jin realizes she can't really be that person anymore and interiorizes there is a part of her Vi can't understand. That same part Silco instead accepts.
Silco: Don't cry. You are perfect.
In season 2, Jinx becomes Cait's dark side. She is really Cait's Joker, as she is the one who challenges Cait's sense of justice and morals:
Cait: It's her blood in your veins. Vi: Then why are you the one acting like her?
Cait is letting grief and pain change her for the worse, just like Powder was transformed by her own losses and traumas. Cait keeps insisting she is different from Jinx, but she isn't. In fact, her whole fiasco kinds of hint at it symbolically. Cait poisons the underground city in her attempt to catch Jinx. Only for Jinx rewinding the ventilation system, so that the poison Cait used is sent back to Piltover. Jinx literally acts like Cait's mirror, which is why Cait's shot ends up hitting exactly this, a mirror. As in, Cait can't really kill Jinx without hurting both herself, Vi and the whole city :P
I am curious to see how their foiling will develop, now that both girls are growing into the leaders of their opposite factions.
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Loving a Killer: Mistakes in a Hardware Store
Pairing: Killer!Harry x wife!reader
Masterlist: Here
CW: Harry is a tad bit over protective in this, threats of violence, semi angsty bits, language.
A/N: Harry had done something wrong and shockingly enough it has nothing to do with what he does for a living, so enjoy him trying to get you to forgive him✨
“Looking at it every five seconds isn’t going to make it magically start ringing you know that right?” Harry just ignores Mitch’s comment as he looks at his phone for the sixth time in the last five minutes, letting out a sigh when he all he’s met with is the date and time on his Lock Screen, no message from you or your name flashing across it like it normally does when you call him. “Trouble in paradise?” Mitch asks as he looks over and watches Harry run a hand through his hair as he tosses his phone onto his desk.
“She’s not talking to me.�� Is all he says before he stands up and begins pacing the length of his desk while Mitch spins his chair around so his back is facing his own desk allowing him to watch his bestfriend have what he could only describe as a breakdown of some sort due to not having heard from you all day. Harry pauses and runs a hand over his face then just looks at Mitch over his shoulder. “I think she’s mad-”
“What did you do?” Harry lets out a groan as he walks over to his desk and places his hands flat on top of it and Mitch raises a brow at him when he notices him look down and close his eyes while letting out a deep sigh. “Harry tell me you didn’t-”
“You’ve got to stop assuming I’m walking around killing people without telling you.” Harry jokes as he lifts his head to send Mitch a glare. “I didn’t even really put my hands on anyone this time.” He explains making his friend just roll his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Then what exactly did you do?”
“She went with me to get some stuff so I can fix the shed door in the backyard and while we were at the hardware store some dude came up to her and started chatting her up so I might’ve threatened him a little.”
“You’re such a hot head man you need to relax and realize your wife is a catch so dudes are going to want to try to flirt with her.”
“What the hell did you just say?” Mitch doesn’t even flinch at how harsh Harry’s tone is as he straightens himself up and takes a step towards him with a quirked brow, Mitch is extremely familiar to this side of his bestfriend. “I’m just supposed to let people flirt with her and think they have some sort of shot with her?”
“They’ll know they don’t have a shot with her because she’ll let them know. She doesn’t need you to do it.” Mitch casually explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but Harry just lets out a scoff and throws his hands up in air, clearly annoyed at the idea of having his wife be the one to tell creeps to leave her alone.
“She shouldn’t have to worry about telling wanks who want to chat her up to fuck off.” He snaps while he walks back over to his desk to reach for his phone. “I’m her husband it’s my job to do that for her.” Mitch rolls his eyes at his explanation as he watches Harry tap away on his phone.
“No it’s your job to trust her and let her handle herself in situations like that.” Harry can’t help but feel his heart sink as Mitch’s words hit him, he knows he can be a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you and that often leads to him overreacting in certain situations but he’s never thought about how him reacting the way that he does could make you feel as if he doesn’t trust you or think you can’t handle yourself.
“I do trust her.” Mitch just nods as he uncrosses his arms so he can stand up from his chair. “I just-you know how I am with her.” He says with a sigh as Mitch takes a step towards him so he can place a hand on his shoulder.
“I know how you are with her and I know it’s because you love her but sometimes it’s a little much. But the real question is how are you gonna fix this?” Mitch asks as he gives Harry’s shoulder a squeeze before letting it go. “I hear flowers work wonders.” He suggests making Harry send him a glare making Mitch chuckle because sometimes it’s glaringly obvious how single Mitch is compared to Harry.
“Already had a bouquet delivered to her office this morning since she only works a half day today.” He mumbles and Mitch just gives him a nod of approval as he watches Harry tap a few things on his phone before he locks it and slides into his back pocket. “I have to go. You good to handle the rest of the day without me?” Harry questions making Mitch just brush him off as he turns to head back towards his desk.
“Yeah I’m fine we have that Gavin guy tomorrow and today is just paperwork.” Harry just nods at Mitch’s answer before he gathers his keys and tosses his work bag over his shoulder. “Good luck.” Mitch says with a smile as Harry gives him one more glance before turning and heading out their shared office door and down the hallway for the door that opens to the stairs leading up to the lobby of the building the two of them work at.
Harry hates the feeling he gets when he walks inside the front door, he’s not met with the usual warmth that always radiates off of you and seeps into his body and relaxes him as it makes its way from his tired feet all the way up to his sore shoulders. Today he’s met with silence and the utter coldness that comes with it and it’s almost enough to send a shiver down his spine, but the only thing that keeps him from turning around and leaving is that he knows you’re home because he parked next to your car in the driveway and he is willing to do anything get your warmth back into the house.
He knows where you’re at, it’s just something that he can’t help with what he does for a living he knows how to keep track of people when they’re in relatively close proximity to him. So as soon as he walked in the front door he could see your foot hanging off the love seat tucked away in the corner of the living room near the bookshelf next to the floor lamp that you opted to turn on instead of the main light. He acts as if he didn’t see you as he drops his keys in the bowl by the door and slips his shoes off before he makes his way into the kitchen where he places his work bag on the table, he can feel your eyes on him from the living room and he takes that as a decent sign that you’re even wanting to look at him.
He runs a hand through his hair as he contemplates his next move, he knows you don’t like confrontation so you won’t be the one to tell him you’re mad at him so if he wants this to get resolved in a timely manner he’s going to need to be the one to initiate the conversation but he’s just not in a hurry to hear you say you’re upset with him. So Harry does what he thinks is the best thing to do in the moment because he knows you, he knows what you really need from him in this moment and he’s more than willing to give it to you if it spares him, at least for a few minutes from having to hear you tell him how unhappy he made you the other day. He turns around and quietly heads into the living room, he watches as you close the book he knows you stopped reading the moment he walked through the front door and place it on the side table near the lamp. As soon as he’s in front of you he reaches down and grabs your hands as he drops to his knees, he looks at you as he brings your hands to his lips and places sweet kisses to your knuckles and he doesn’t miss the slight shade of pink your cheeks get at his actions.
“I’m sorry baby.” He makes sure his words come out nice and clear so you don’t miss them between little pecks to your knuckles. “I know I made you upset yesterday and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened him or-”
“We’ve had this conversation before haven’t we Harry?” You ask making Harry just swallow before nodding his head and he swears he feels his heart drop to his stomach when you turn and look away from him. “I know you want to protect me from all the creeps and jerks but Harry yesterday you-”
“Don’t say it.” He cuts you off as he lets your hands slip out of his as he stands up. “Please don’t say it.” His voice is low as he takes a small step away from you as he feels as if his world might be crumbling down around him as the thought of you telling him you were afraid of him bounces around in his head.
“Harry look at me.” He can’t help himself as he does what you ask because even though his whole world may feel like it’s on the verge of falling apart he’s still your husband, the man who hasn’t ever really been able to not do whatever it is you ask of him. “I’m not afraid of you.” He feels your hands on his arms slowly running up until they are cupping the sides of his face making sure he can’t look away from you. Your words take a moment to sink in through the layers of sheer panic and anxiety running through his mind but when they finally do Harry lets out a deep breath and feels as if his legs could give out at any moment with the amount of relief that washes over him.
“I was going to say that in that moment you were being one of the jerks you try to protect me from all the time.” All Harry can do is just nod because you’re right, he was being exactly the type of person he tries to keep you away from and honestly Harry is still recovering from the fact you admitted you aren’t afraid of him so a nod is the best he can do in the moment. “You threatened someone’s life all because he was asking me if I had any recommendations for a good weather resistant wood varnish.” When Harry rolls his eyes he instantly knows it’s a mistake because he feels your hands drop from his face making his lips turn downward into a slight frown while you take a few steps away from him.
“I’m sorry sweetheart but that was clearly a line and he was trying to flirt-”
“So him flirting with me means you need to come in and grab him by his shirt and tell him that if he so much as looks at me again the next project you’ll be working on will be his coffin?” Harry can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve raised your voice since he’s met you, each time has almost always been towards him and he hates that he’s the one who gets you to the point where you lose your ability to speak in your usual soft and gentle tone and are left with no choice but to make your voice louder and a little meaner in hopes it’ll help get your point across more clearly.
“I didn’t mean to grab him. That was a mistake.” He doesn’t make an attempt to get closer to you even though every part of him wants to reach out and pull you into him, he wants to give you the space you need to tell him exactly how his actions made you feel and he knows you won’t be able to do that if he crowds you. And as much as he normally loves to play dirty and use his knowledge against you, this time he wants you to get everything out because he wants to be better for you so if he has to stand here and take it for a few more minutes then so be it.
“Was that the only mistake you made yesterday?” He wants to say he really didn’t make any mistakes yesterday but he doesn’t, he just rubs his lips together as you place a hand on your hip letting him in on the fact you’re getting annoyed at this conversation.
“Please just answer me because I don’t want to argue with you anymore but I need to know if you really think that’s the only mistake you made yesterday.” Harry can tell by the slight pleading tone of your voice that you’re beginning to break, your walls of anger are starting to crumble and he can’t help himself but feel a small sense of relief because he can work with this, he can find a way to make your walls come down and get you to forgive him.
“No.” He answers as he takes a small cautious step towards you making you raise an eyebrow at him as a signal to have him elaborate on his answer. “I shouldn’t have threatened him or raised my voice in the store because I know how you feel about causing scenes in public.” He adds as he takes another small step towards you and he can’t help the small smirk that forms on his face when he sees your hand drop from your hip as you playfully roll your eyes at the mention of causing a scene.
“Anything else?” Your voice is much softer now and Harry feels like this is a good time to take a chance so he reaches an arm out so he can place a hand on your hip and he smiles when you don’t make any moves to wiggle out of his grasp or bring your own hand down to push his away.
“Letting you give me the silent treatment for the rest of the day. That’s probably the biggest mistake I made because you know how much I love hearing you talk.” Now normally you’d take that as a tease of some sort but Harry’s not an idiot, or at least not in this moment so he’s sure to sound as serious as possible without ruining the lighthearted mood that’s beginning to form between the two of you.
“You love hearing me talk?” Harry just gives you a smile as he ever so gently pulls you closer to him by his hold on your hip.
“Your voice is one of my favorite sounds.” He admits without a single drop of hesitation because it’s the truth. “Especially right before you fall asleep and it’s this mixture of a whisper and just mumbles of nonsense.” His eyes stare into yours as he raises his free hand so he can brush a few strands of hair out of your face and back behind your ear. “But my favorite is when it’s got this hint of excitement to it like when you’re telling me about a new book you found that you’re now obsessed with or better yet the rants you go on about books you hate those are very fun and your voice gets this almost twinge of absolute disgust to it that I always find entertaining because it’s so rare you find something you don’t like.” He keeps his hand on the side of your face cupping your jaw, gently running his thumb over your cheek.
“So really baby it about killed me not getting to hear your voice for a whole day all because I was an asshole and couldn’t handle some guy flirting with you in a Home Depot.” He wants to pull your face towards his and seal his words with a kiss but he doesn’t, he’s a gentleman after all and knows it’s only right to let you decide when he’s earned his kissing privileges back sees as you just broke the day long silent treatment you were giving him not even five minutes ago.
“His name was Brad.” Harry’s grip on your hip tightens a little while he other hand falls from your face as you give him an unwanted detail of your encounter yesterday. “Maybe if you knew that before you went all crazy on him you would’ve reconsidered? Because who’s going to pick some dude named Brad over their hot husband named Harry?” He just chuckles as you give him a playful smirk while reaching your hands up to grab both sides of his face.
“Well when you put it like that.” He jokes as he feels you begin to pull his face down towards yours. “I really am sorry sweetheart I swear it won’t happen again.” He whispers as he bumps the tip of his nose into yours making you smile.
“I know you are and that’s why I forgive you.” That’s all Harry needs to hear before he allows himself to close the gap between his lips and yours, he feels you smile against his lips as you pull him even closer to you when you feel him try to pull away.
“I love you.” He mumbles between kisses making you giggle as your hands go from his face down to his chest so you can grip onto his shirt while his hand holds onto the back of your neck.
In this moment Harry knows that the two of you are going to be okay, that while you may hate how he over reacts and gets a little too protective at times, you still love him and haven’t decided to give up on him or at least not yet. So Harry decides right then and there that he’s going to actually try to be better, but while he really will try he can’t promise he won’t mess up every now and then because he’s still Harry, and when it comes to you he doesn’t think he’ll ever be okay with people getting too close or being too friendly.
#loving a killer series#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles series#harry styles au#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles blurb#harry styles drabble#harry styles fanfic#killer!Harry x wife!reader#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#dark!harry#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles#my little lanky baby#mitch rowland#one direction fanfiction
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hard to ignore (two-shot) (part one)
pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader
summary when you’re offered a job as a nanny, you can tell right away that you’ll grow fond of the little girl you’re taking care of. things are easy to manage until you realize you’re falling for her dad.
author’s note hugs to @nemesyaaa for sharing the idea of singledad!zach. i couldn’t stop writing (and the one-shot hit 15k words and became a two-shot… i love slowburn…) hurt and comfort. fluff. no smut. divider credit.
content warning parental abandonment
» masterlist
Zach is sure, without a doubt, that he has already lived the best day of his life.
The moment he held Ella in his arms was when the world bloomed into a color he didn’t know existed. Nothing could ever and would ever top that feeling.
He didn’t expect that before thirty, he’d already experience the worst day of his life, too. But he’s certain he has.
He was in a fog, a bad dream he kept trying to wake himself up from. He had stepped into the guest room to see a piece of paper on Jade’s bed and he knew before he even unfolded the letter that she was gone.
He read the last line of the letter over and over again. I can’t live like this anymore. Deep down, he always feared that she would give up on them. But not like this. And not this soon.
After Ella was born, bitterness permanently etched itself into Jade’s face. To her, the baby was always a mistake and Zach stopped being someone she loved and became nothing but the man she regretfully had a child with.
She became the antithesis of the girl he fell for. The love they’d once had was replaced with a cold distance. She started sleeping in the guest room. She ate her meals alone. She left the house as much as she could.
Still, he respected that she had learned to tolerate motherhood. While she didn’t love being a stay-at-home mom, he didn’t think she hated it.
But then she left. And if she could abandon them like this, four years in, not even having it in her to look into her little girl’s eyes to say goodbye, then that tolerance had a cruel end.
That’s why now, a month after her sudden departure, Zach is sitting in his living room, fingers curling the corner of the resume belonging to the woman scheduled to arrive in a few minutes.
Dishes clatter as his mother tidies up his kitchen. Normally, he’d feel guilty and nag her to sit down. But things aren’t normal and he’ll take all the help he can get. It’s been an uphill battle trying to pick up the pieces on his own.
His family drove in a few nights ago. They offered to visit as soon as he called with the news, but he didn’t want to put Ella through too much at once, so he waited a few weeks. Once he asked them to come, they dropped everything and set out for the four-hour car ride.
Ella’s playing in the backyard with her grandpa and aunt while Connie helps Zach run interviews. His team’s managers were understanding when he asked for time off, but Zach can’t be away forever. With his training and match schedule, he needs to find a nanny.
He’d rather not introduce a new person into her life, especially this soon, but it’s unavoidable. At least with a nanny, he can control that Ella will always be in the comfort of her home. A place she knows.
Moments like these, he wishes he hadn’t been drafted to a team a state away. If he’d stayed close to his hometown, Ella would see both sets of grandparents more often and he’d have dependable childcare until he figured out how to function as a single dad.
Zach looks over his shoulder through the window, swallowing the lump in his throat when he sees his daughter running circles around her grandpa in the morning sun. The chime of the doorbell throws him out of his trance.
Soft blue eyes meet yours when the door swings open. The stranger on the other side is tall and handsome and younger than you expected, his half-smile clouded by sorrow. You introduce yourself and he offers you a firm but gentle handshake.
“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m Zach. Come in.”
You trail him into the large house, mind already racing with the potential of it becoming your workplace. The agency had set up the interview. You don’t know much about the client, except that he has a four-year-old daughter and that he requested a nanny who’s adaptable to a changing schedule.
After meeting Ella’s grandmother, you settle on a couch and make small talk and answer their questions. You learn that Zach is a professional soccer player and that his work can be demanding and inconsistent, but with your apartment being close by, you assure him that you’re reliable and flexible.
By the end of the interview, the idea of a nanny doesn’t make Zach nearly as uneasy as it did an hour ago. You’re kind and experienced and knowledgeable and every time you see his little girl through the window, you smile in pure endearment.
Zach likes the idea of his daughter being around someone joyful. Jade grew to be so cold that Ella learned to go to her dad whenever she wanted to feel reassured and loved. It’s comforting to imagine her growing to like you, maybe even love you, and to be met with the same warmth she’s so full of.
The rest of the interviews go fine, but Zach has always operated on gut feelings and you’re a clear winner. His mom agrees.
────୨ৎ────
After an agency rep calls to tell you that you’ve been offered a trial period, you spend five days at the house getting to know Ella while Zach shadows to answer your questions. He’s friendly and helpful, but visibly tense.
The final afternoon, you’re playing with Ella in the living room when Zach’s phone rings. Ella rushes over to his side, asking if it’s her mommy calling. You notice the nervous way his jaw clenches when he kneels to the floor.
“It’s grandma,” he tells her, holding his phone out so the camera will capture them both.
You pretend you didn’t hear Ella's question. You know nothing about her mom and you wouldn’t dare risk crossing a boundary by asking.
Soon after the call, Ella’s drawing at the dining table while you and Zach periodically glance across the room to check on her from the kitchen. He’s been teaching you how he prepares Ella’s favorite foods. He likes that you write everything down, asking him for details down to exact measurements. If he wasn’t sure that you took the happiness of his daughter seriously before, he is now.
He already told the story to his family and to Jade’s parents and to his closest friends, but that was with people he knew well. People who could comfort him. He’s not sure how to share with you that she left, but he wants to hire you, and this is something you should be aware of.
After he slides a pan into the oven, he stands to face you, towering over you as he wipes his hands with a tea towel.
“You have the job if you want it,” Zach says quietly. You smile at him appreciatively. You weren’t feeling confident, considering how on edge he’s been, but you realize it must not have been you he was nervous about.
“Thank you,” you reply. “I do.”
He nods, looking down as he leans against the kitchen island, and says, “She starts kindergarten next fall. You’d be alright with part-time hours then?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Uh, you should know…” he says, turning his head to look over at his daughter, “her mom left. A little over a month ago. It was out of the blue.”
Your heart twists in pain at his words, at the agony that draws itself into his face.
“I’m so sorry,” you say, staring up at his profile. Zach blinks a few times, gazing at his daughter. You press your lips together, wishing you knew what to say.
“Ella didn’t get a goodbye,” he tells you. Neither did he, not a real one, but that’s irrelevant. “I told her that her mom chose to leave and I don’t know why she made that choice, but I’m not going anywhere. If she brings it up, please say the same.”
“I will,” you reply with an understanding nod, “and only if she mentions it first.”
“Thank you,” Zach says. “I’ll be honest with you. I really don’t want someone to leave her again. You are planning on staying as long as we need you, right? Even when the hours get shorter during the school year?”
He had that same note of desperation in his voice when he asked you about your commitment to the job during the interview, too.
“Yes,” you assure him. “I understand that she needs stability right now.”
Based on the way Zach’s eyes lower, you can tell he needs stability, too. His wife not only left him, but she left him with their child. You can’t imagine the hole that it dug in his heart.
“Thanks,” he says. He takes a breath. He wasn’t strong enough not to cry when he told Ella her mom was gone and he’ll always hate himself for it, but at least he kept his tears from falling this time.
“Do you want to ask her what she thinks about it?” you offer. “I can go put away her laundry to give you some privacy.”
Zach nods in agreement. And as he expected, when he asks his daughter if she’d like for you to hang around here more often after he goes back to work, she gives him an enthusiastic yes.
You’re purposely slow with the laundry to give them time. You come back into the kitchen to see Ella happily eating a freshly baked muffin and swinging her feet, smiling up at her father as he sits next to her at the dining table.
“My daddy said you’re gonna be here every day,” she says to you with a grin, overjoyed by the news.
“Not every day,” Zach corrects her gently. “But most days.”
“Try this!” Ella exclaims, stretching her arm out towards you, the muffin in her fist. The way you happily accept the food even though it’s reduced to smushed fragments in his child’s small hand makes Zach’s heart feel a little lighter.
“That’s delicious,” you say after you take a bite, settling at the table across from them.
Zach’s still getting used to having a woman around who’s so sweet to his child. Jade would hardly ever accept Ella’s offers to share her food, telling him that saying yes to everything would only raise a spoiled child.
“My daddy’s the bestest cook,” she proudly says.
“Best,” Zach corrects. “Thank you, honey.”
“He really is,” you reply. “I don’t know how I’ll fill his shoes, but I’ll try my best.”
Ella’s face pinches in confusion as she kneels over in her booster seat to look under the table.
“I think his shoes will be too big for you,” she mumbles, pointing to your feet. You laugh, meeting Zach’s gaze, seeing the first genuine smile on his face. You didn’t know he had dimples.
He can’t remember the last time he laughed, really laughed, with someone like this. Life’s dealt him a tough hand, but you’ve given him relief.
────୨ৎ────
Zach is organized. So organized that it sort of amazes you. Not only does he give you his, and in turn, your work schedule a month in advance through a color-coded calendar, but he also provides you with a meal plan for Ella so that you don’t have to worry about making one yourself.
The first day on your own with her is perfect. She’s energetic, well-behaved, and loves to talk. Zach left for training at noon and you were surprised that he found the time to text as much as he did. You replied to his every message asking for updates, sharing what you’re doing and reassuring him that Ella’s doing okay.
He gets home an hour after Ella’s bedtime. He’s been on edge all day, worrying that all this was too much, too fast for his little girl. Maybe he should have taken more time off.
You’re finishing up loading the dishwasher when you hear his keys jingling. You turn to greet him as he paces into the kitchen.
“Hey, how was bedtime?” he asks.
“We read three books and she asked me to stay with her until she fell asleep,” you tell him. “No issues.”
Zach sighs in relief. He never liked afternoon training because he missed bedtime. Ella preferred bedtime with her dad over with her mom. She preferred everything with her dad, really. But hearing that she wanted you to stay is reassuring.
“And she ate well?” he asks. He settles on one of the stools lining the kitchen counter, watching you cross the room to stand opposite him.
“Yes,” you tell him. “She was great.”
“Sorry if I was annoying with all the texts,” he says with a small, apologetic smile.
“You weren’t, but I wanted to let you know that it’s okay if you want to set up cameras. I know some parents like having live video they can tune into throughout the day.” You’d already noticed the security cameras outside when you first came to the house. You understand why he’d be so protective.
Zach threads his fingers through his dirty blond hair, damp from the shower he took in the training center’s locker room.
“Alright, I was definitely annoying if you’re offering to be surveilled,” he mumbles with a chuckle.
“No,” you laugh. “Ella did get a little frustrated, though. We were playing princesses and she said princesses aren’t supposed to go on their phones this much.”
Zach breathes a laugh. You’ve only been here for six days, but he hasn’t smiled this much in a long time.
“Thank you for all your work today,” he says. “I won’t keep you any longer.” You give him a bright smile and wish him a good night before you head out.
When Zach trudges upstairs, he peeks into Ella’s room. She’s sleeping peacefully, curled up with her favorite plushie. Now that he has a semblance of normalcy back in his life, he realizes that beneath the sadness and betrayal, he feels anger.
It’s not typical of him to feel angry. But Jade set everything ablaze when she abandoned them and he’s been left in the ashes, trying to stay level-headed while he’s choking on smoke.
He knows he lost Jade’s heart long ago. She lost his, too. It’s the fact that she broke their daughter’s without any hesitation – that’s what kills him.
────୨ৎ────
Zach never takes you up on the offer to have cameras installed. He starts to let go, little by little, eventually going a full day without sending a single check-in text. It’s gratifying to know you’ve earned his trust.
Before you know it, you’ve been Ella’s nanny for two months. She’s made herself a home in your heart. The only way you’d ever leave her is if you were told to, and you can’t even imagine being fired. Zach often checks in to see if you’re happy with your job and asks if there’s anything he can do to make things better. He clearly values you and doesn’t want to lose you.
It’s mid-morning when you’re playing with Ella on the living room floor and Zach comes through the front door. She rushes to him and you smile as you watch him drop his duffle bag and happily scoop his daughter up.
He had an away game last night and flew in early. His skin is blanched, dark half-circles under his eyes, but like always, he finds energy for his daughter. You admire it about him, how she’s never too much for him.
“There’s a plate for you in the kitchen,” you tell him when he meets your gaze.
“You don’t have to–”
“I know,” you say with a laugh. Zach has already told you many times that Ella’s the only one you have to feed, but you can tell he appreciates coming home to a meal. “There were leftovers.”
“Were there?” he asks, brows quirked, an unconvinced smirk on his lips.
You shrug and laugh again. You’ve grown into a friendly level of comfort with each other and you appreciate how you can joke around with him.
Zach sits in the dining room to eat, listening to Ella tell him all about her playdate yesterday. You tidy up the living room as you overhear her chat about how her friend was showing her ballet poses and how badly she wants lessons.
You’d sent Zach a courtesy text before you fell asleep in the guest room last night: We had a great day. She had a lot of fun on the playdate. Just so you’re prepared, she’s VERY into ballet now and is going to ask you if she can get lessons. Sending some options. Then, you sent him a few links to children’s dance classes in town.
You woke up to two texts from him. The first said: Appreciate the warning and the research. Am I crazy for holding on to hope that she’ll like soccer one day? You smiled at your screen. You’d briefly talked with Zach about how Ella has no interest in the sport her father dedicated his career to.
The second text from him, sent fifteen minutes later, read: Would you be alright with taking her to 6-6:45 pm classes on Wednesdays when I can’t? The season starts next week.
You replied when you woke up: Definitely.
You enter the dining room to see Ella hanging off her dad’s shoulders while he tries to eat, continuing to rattle on about how she’d never miss a lesson and would always listen in class.
“Alright, take a breath,” he chuckles. When he tells her you found her a class at a studio uptown and that he’ll enroll her if she’s sure she can commit, she squeals in delight. She hugs Zach, then runs over to hug you, too, nearly knocking you over.
“Easy,” her dad tells her. Ella asks you to turn on the ballet music playlist you found for her yesterday and launches into twirls across the living room.
“Remember what I said,” you tell her over the music. “If you start to get dizzy, you…?”
“Sit down, I know!” she shouts. You meet Zach’s eyes, both of you wearing smiles. You can see the fatigue on his face under the bright dining room light.
“Do you want me to stay another hour so you can catch up on sleep?” you offer. “I don’t mind.”
He knows his heart shouldn’t skip when he looks at you, but it does. He can’t help it. You don’t see this as a job you clock in and out of. You’ve integrated yourself into Ella’s life, into his life, so seamlessly. He doesn’t feel like you’re an employee here. You’re a friend who goes above and beyond to help. You’re someone who his daughter adores. You’re a beautiful person, inside and out.
He looks down at his plate, embarrassed, as if you can read his mind. His head has been doing this lately, rushing into thoughts of you that are much more than professional. He shouldn’t be thinking that his daughter’s nanny is beautiful.
“It’s okay,” he tells you. “You can head home. We’ll see you soon.”
You nod and call Ella over to look at the calendar Zach made. It’s a routine with her every time you leave. She likes knowing when you’ll be back.
When Zach heads upstairs to drop his things off into his bedroom, he stops when he passes the guest room. You left the door ajar. Even though you always keep it neat, only leaving an overnight bag on the nightstand, there’s a lived in feeling, a warmth in the room that never existed before.
Once again, he has to remind himself that you’re paid to be here. But it’s hard not to like you, because even when Jade was living here, he felt alone, whereas having you around makes it hard to ignore that life doesn’t feel all that empty anymore.
────୨ৎ────
“Which one’s yours?”
You look over to the man sitting next to you on the dance studio bleachers. Young girls hop and whirl over the glossy hardwood floor in a sea of pink tutus, five minutes into their lesson.
“Oh, I’m...” You point to Ella. “Her nanny.”
Ella’s been in ballet for a few weeks now and it’s all she talks about. Zach’s schedule allows him to take her to most of her classes, but this is the second one you’ve come to and you can see just how much she enjoys it.
You make small-talk with the man and a few other parents, which makes the time pass quickly. When you get back to the house, Ella scarfs down her dinner and falls asleep during the first book you read her. You’re sitting in the living room when Zach comes home from training.
He’s nearing playoff season and he’s mentioned that he has much more practices booked in his schedule. At this point, he welcomes how you always pretend to accidentally make too much food. He doesn’t expect you to prepare meals for him, but after you’d reassured him that you don’t mind since you’re cooking anyway, he’s relieved to know he’ll have dinner waiting for him tonight.
“Hey,” you greet him from your spot on the couch. “Ballet was the best idea ever. It really tires her out. Bedtime was a breeze.”
“Right?” Zach says with a smile, pulling off his jacket. You look away to avoid gaping at his biceps under his t-shirt. You thought he was good-looking the moment you met him and getting to know him has only made him more attractive.
“I’ve been wanting to ask if you’d like any help with her birthday,” you offer, turning the tv off and standing up. Ella’s fifth birthday is in a month.
“I have some ideas for her party that I’d like your opinion on,” Zach tells you. “Do you want to stay for a few minutes? Or I can just text you.”
“I can stay.”
He’s relieved to hear it. He doesn’t have many moments with you alone. Usually you’re like passing ships in the night, chatting for just a couple of minutes to catch each other up about Ella before one of you leaves the house, so any window of time with you is something he welcomes. Your presence is comforting.
You sit at the kitchen island together. Zach eats as you scroll through his phone, gazing at screenshots of party ideas he saved.
“Oh, she’d love this,” you say, stopping at a photo of ballerina-themed cupcakes. He gazes at you in awe as you look down at the screen. You’re genuinely delighted at the idea of giving his little girl a perfect birthday. “Do you want to have the party here?”
“Yeah, do you think that’s a good idea?” he asks.
“Yeah. If you’re worried about decorating or cleaning up, I’d come early and stay late,” you tell him, continuing to scroll. “She deserves something big.”
He nods, swallowing down his food, too distracted to go for another bite. He can’t wrap his head around how sweet you are. You have no connection to Ella at all, but you treat her like she’s yours. Sometimes more than her own mother did.
You’ve been here for nearly four months now, which in the grand scheme of things really isn’t that long, but he likes that you have such a deep sincerity to you that he can trust that you care about Ella. That you won’t leave.
You look up at him and he glances away, worried he’s been caught staring, clearing his throat.
“Do you know how many people you’re thinking of inviting?” you ask as you hand him back his phone.
Zach’s face falls as he scratches the back of his neck. You’re suddenly tense, the air of familiarity between you now thick and uncomfortable.
“I’m not sure,” he says.
“Sorry,” you say, nervous you crossed a line. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“You didn’t,” he reassures you. “Sorry. I’ve just been going back and forth on whether I should invite her grandparents. From her mom’s side, I mean.”
“That must be hard,” you empathize.
“They’ve offered to visit a few times, but Ella hated the idea. She doesn’t even want to talk to them on the phone.”
“Was she like that before?” You don’t have to spell it out for him to know what you mean by before. The topic of Ella’s mom’s abandonment has been a silent cloud hanging over both of you.
“No,” Zach says. “I think she makes the connection that they’re her mom’s parents and she doesn’t want to be reminded of her.”
His lips close into a firm line.
“Well, I admire how you respect her comfort level and let her make decisions,” you say. “Maybe you start the conversation about who to invite and mention the grandparents to gauge her reaction?”
Zach nods, trying not to let his heart get carried away with the way it pounds from your words. He’s received compliments on his parenting from his friends and family, but you see the type of father he is more than anyone else these days. He cares about your opinion and it feels good to hear you approve.
“That’s a good idea,” he says. His fork clatters against his dish and he takes a deep breath before asking what’s been spinning in his head. “I figure you’d tell me, but… she hasn’t mentioned her mom, has she?”
You shake your head no. His forehead wrinkles in concern and it sends a pang to your chest. You lean a little closer, crossing the invisible boundary between you for the first time.
“She could just be processing,” you tell him. “And it might take her a while to talk about it. But she’s okay. She’s resilient. She got it from you.”
Zach hopes that he’s not blushing, but his cheeks are burning. He’s sure you’d be able to tell, but thankfully, you look down and stand straight again, as if what you just said wasn’t one of the most significantly unforgettable things he’s ever been told.
Ella is practically a physical copy of her mother. Zach never minded. But hearing that you think his daughter inherited his adaptability, one thing he’s always prided himself on, feels good.
He wasn’t very confident that he’s been doing a great job at adjusting since Jade left and you just lifted a weight off his shoulders without even realizing it.
“Thank you,” he says. You desperately want to ask how he’s been since his wife left, but you’re afraid you’ve already crossed a line with your boss tonight and you certainly don’t want to risk doing it again.
“Sure,” you reply. “I should go. But I’ll let you know if I think of any ideas for the party. I think the ballerina theme is the way to go. This place will be so pink.”
Zach laughs, trying to ignore the way his chest hollows when you expand the distance between you, stepping away.
“Can’t wait,” he says. “Thanks for dinner.”
“There were leftovers,” you reply, even though both of you are already well aware that every time you say that, it’s not true.
────୨ৎ────
It’s only half an hour into Ella’s birthday party and you’re spent. You’re reaching for napkins from the cupboard to clean up a spill in the dining room. When you turn out of the kitchen, a girl runs past you, tripping and accidentally pouring most of her juice onto your dress.
“Sorry,” she says worryingly, eyes wide as she stares up at you.
“It’s okay,” you reply with a giggle, dabbing at the fabric with one of the napkins. “I came prepared.”
Zach just entered the room, witnessing the moment, wondering if he’s ever going to see you do anything that won’t just push him deeper into his crush on you. But once again, his head is no match for his heart when it comes to you.
He’s been trying not to lose his mind today and it’s not because of the chaotic party that’s taken over his house. It’s because it’s the first time he’s seen you in a dress. While it’s appropriate for the occasion, it shows enough of your figure to make his mouth go dry.
You toss the napkin in the garbage, collect more, then start to make your way to the dining room, looking up to find Zach’s eyes.
“Hey,” you say over the noise. He realizes that your voice somehow settles his pulse and makes it race at the same time. “There might not be enough napkins in the world for this party.”
“Invite everyone she wants,” he teases, imitating the way you convinced him to go along with Ella’s idea to invite all twelve kids from her ballet class.
“I take it back,” you chuckle. When you move past him, the fresh scent of his cologne dances over you and it’s so nice that you don’t want to leave his side. But you shake away the thought and tidy up the spill, then head to the living room to mingle.
It’s better to keep your distance from Zach. You have to remind yourself of it almost every day now. You’d been spending more time together to plan Ella’s party and at this point, it’s actually frustrating how kind and funny and charming and perfect he is.
It took a few evenings of party-planning at the house, your voices low as Ella slept upstairs, to start to get to know each other outside of your job. You’ve learned little things about him, like that he’s left-handed, and that he has a sister ten years younger than him and growing up with her helped him practice parenting, and that he likes a cup of tea before bed because it relaxes him.
You also noticed that he drifts into a more timid version of himself whenever the topic of his profession comes up. You’d mentioned that Ella could eventually grow an interest in soccer, that you’d take her to one of his home games if she wanted, and he nodded with a shy smile, saying he liked the idea.
Every side of him is intriguing, and while your conversations haven’t fallen into anything too personal, you want to know more about him past the friendly distance that stands between you.
Ella quickly darts past Zach in the kitchen and he reminds her that tag is an outside game. He’s relieved that she seems happy and careless today.
He’d asked her about inviting her mom’s parents and she answered with a quiet no. He called them to tell them that this birthday would be too difficult to celebrate together and they understood, opting to send a present in the mail.
Zach is glad he took your advice. As he rounds the corner, he sees you chatting with Ella’s friend’s dad. You probably know him from ballet. Zach has spoken with him, too. He knows the man is divorced.
Jealousy swirls in his chest. He shouldn’t care about you talking to another man. Even though you’ve started to share more about your lives with each other and he’s pretty sure you’re single, you could have a boyfriend you haven’t mentioned.
Again, while he tells himself not to feel things for you, it’s so much easier said than done. He has to look away, wondering why he feels like someone who’s not even his is being taken from him.
All the stress leaves your body the minute the last attendee leaves through the front door. It was a great party, but it was exhausting.
Ella’s eating her dinner as you, Zach, and his family tackle the mess. You make conversation with her while you clean the kitchen, happy to hear her rave about what a good birthday she had.
She asks if you can cuddle her for bedtime. Zach overhears and trudges into the kitchen, crumpled decorations in his hands. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and you try to ignore the fact that the mere sight of his forearms makes your stomach go numb with butterflies.
“It’s been a long day,” he says to you quietly. “I can take bedtime.”
“I got it,” you reply. He mirrors your smile. You like that he’s not the type of parent to be bitter that his own kid prefers you sometimes. He’s just happy that Ella’s happy.
When you’re leaning back in Ella’s bed, chatting as you wait for her to doze off, her arm is draped over your body and her cheek is on your shoulder. She’s grown to be totally comfortable with you, always taking the opportunity to be affectionate.
Your eyelids are heavy as you ramble about what she’ll be doing with her grandparents and aunt in the next few days, as they’ll be staying in town for a bit. Zach gave you the next three days off since childcare will be covered.
“I heard your grandma say something about taking you to the beach tomorrow,” you tell her. “Are you excited?”
“Will you come, too?” she asks. You chuckle softly, kissing the top of her head.
“I have work, remember?” you tell her. You and Zach had decided long ago that you don’t want to tell her you’re paid to be here, that your job is taking care of her. You always just refer to yourself as her dad’s friend.
“Okay,” she sighs. She lets out a big yawn. “If I tell someone my birthday wish, will it not become true anymore?”
“I’m pretty sure the rule is that you can tell one grown-up,” you play along, “and it’ll still come true.” She nuzzles in. You assume she’ll mention a gift she wanted but didn’t receive today.
“I wished that you were my mommy,” she mumbles into the dark.
Your throat tightens and your heart sinks and you hate that the sweet, innocent child clinging onto you has to carry the weight of being abandoned. You kiss the top of her head again and try not to cry.
“I love you, okay?” you tell her. She nods and squeezes you tighter and within minutes, her breathing grows deeper.
When you head downstairs, you see that almost all of the mess has been tidied up. Zach is hauling a full garbage bag to the front door, giving you a tired smile when he sees you.
“Do you need any help with–”
“Go home,” he interrupts, faking irritation. You laugh in defeat.
“Fine.” You step into the living room to say goodbye to his family, antsy to have some time to yourself so that you don’t have to force down your tears any longer.
A few seconds after the door shuts behind you, Zach remembers that he’d set aside a container of leftover treats from the party for you.
You pace down the sidewalk into the cool evening air, unlocking your car remotely, unable to stop your tears from building. When you hear Zach call your name, you quickly wipe at your eyes, realizing you’ve smudged your make-up.
“There were leftovers,” he says when you turn to look at him.
“That’s my line,” you try to joke. You take the container. “Thanks.”
He notices the shine in your eyes immediately.
“Are you alright?” Zach asks softly. You gaze up at him, heart breaking a little more at the concern in his expression.
“Just a busy day,” you tell him.
“Did something happen?”
“No,” you say quickly. “Or– yeah, but I was going to tell you later. Without the tears.” You offer a pathetic laugh to break the tension, but he’s too worried to laugh, too.
“What is it?” he asks.
You look up to Ella’s bedroom window. The first time you’d walked up to this house, you were oblivious to the fact that the two people living in it would steal your heart. You know you need to tell him what his daughter said. But you’d hoped you’d have more time to process it.
“Before bed,” you say, your voice thin, “she told me she wished I was her mom.”
It takes all the air out of Zach’s lungs. He opens his mouth to reply, but he’s without words. He crosses his arms, looking down at the pavement.
“I know. It’s a lot,” you mumble. Your temples ache as more tears build up, frustrated that this is Zach and Ella’s reality. “It just makes me so sad. I don’t want to say anything bad about your ex-wife, but I don’t understand how she could just leave you two. Has she not called to check in on her? Or to wish her a happy birthday?”
Your heart starts to thrum even harder. Your words were impulsive, surprising you even though you’re the one who said them, and the fear that you just crossed a line and exposed your feelings for him rushes through you.
“No,” is all Zach is able to say. He stares at you, speechless, biting the inside of his cheek.
“When Ella said… what she said, I told her that I love her,” you say. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course it is,” he says, his tone tender. Your lips twist into a sad smile. You want to hug him. But you step back. Because he’s still your boss and you don’t want him to think you can’t remain professional. You’re already anxious and regretful that you brought up Ella’s mom.
“Thank you,” you say. “I should go. Good night.”
Zach’s dazed the rest of the evening. He watches you drive off. He goes back inside to finish cleaning up. He spends time with his parents and sister, but soon heads upstairs to sleep, too distracted to keep up conversation.
His mind keeps him awake as he lies in bed. He stares up at the darkened ceiling, watching the shadow of the trees by his window rustle in the wind. In a matter of a minute, your relationship reached a new level of vulnerability.
And now that he has time to wade through his feelings, beneath the pain he feels for Ella and what she told you, he can’t deny that his heart fluttered when you said you don’t understand how someone could leave him and his daughter. Maybe you feel the same way about him.
This is not just a crush. He’s falling for you.
────୨ৎ────
You stare at the text Zach sent you a few minutes ago as you brush your teeth the next morning.
Sorry for bothering you on your day off but Ella has asked me about 50 times (give or take) if I can ask you to come to the beach today. I told her you’re busy but you know her. No pressure but we’d all love to have you. Would count as a work day, of course.
It was already hard to keep your feelings for Zach at bay when all you can think about is his smile and his voice and the way he makes you feel more comfortable than any man ever has, but now, you’re afraid it might be awkward when you see him. You’d said something so heavy last night, then left abruptly.
Nonetheless, the love you have for Ella and the love you’re starting to have for Zach is louder than the worry you’re feeling.
You reply: Don’t count it as work. It’s how I’d like to spend my day off. When and where?
A minute later, he sends you the address and time.
It’s late morning when you text Zach that you’ve arrived at the beach. He heads to the parking lot, leaving his parents, sister, and daughter by the shoreline so that he can speak to you alone. He hates that he was too in shock to thank you last night. But it was all so much to take in.
He spots you pulling a bag out of your trunk, greeting you with a soft “hey” to not startle you. It’s so nice to know that you’re here because you want to be.
You turn to see Zach in his swim shorts, his hair wet, water droplets scattered atop his muscles. You close the trunk, hoping he didn’t catch the way your eyes lingered.
“Hey. What’d you tell Ella about the ‘work’ I had today?” you ask, trying to establish a lighthearted tone. “Did my boss let me leave early?”
“We can say that,” he says with a smile. “He sounds like a good guy.”
“He is. It’s my other boss that’s kind of a nightmare,” you joke.
Zach takes you in, squinting a bit.
“You don’t really think of me as your boss, do you?” he asks, realizing he hates the implication. It makes him feel like even thinking about you as more than a friend is deeply unethical. Like there’s a power imbalance and he’s taking advantage of it somehow.
You still for a moment.
“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckle. “It doesn’t feel like it, but aren’t you?”
“I guess.” His brows furrow. “It just doesn’t sound right.”
“How about we say… Ella’s my boss? And yours, too, now that I think about it.”
Zach laughs, “That works for me.” He nervously crosses his arms. “Uh… before we go, I wanted to thank you for handling last night so well. I think you said exactly what she needed to hear.”
Your face drops slightly. Remembering the way Ella sounded when she told you her wish, resigned but hopeful, breaks your heart every time you think about it.
“Of course,” you say. It’s a relief that he’s not upset about anything you said. “Is she doing okay?”
“Oh, yeah. Being her usual self. I didn’t tell her you were coming, so she’ll be excited.” The way you smile at the idea of making her happy is something he’s grown to adore about you.
You make your way to the shoreline, and as expected, Ella squeals when she sees you, running straight for you. You crouch to hug her tightly, thrilled that you were invited today.
You sit on a line of towels with Zach and his parents and his sister while Ella explains to you what kind of sandcastle she wants to make. You make conversation with everyone over the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and eventually, you point out a small rubber ball by the cooler.
“You wanna play soccer?” you ask Ella.
“I’m not good at it,” she replies.
“You have the best coach right here,” you say, pointing to Zach. “Let’s give it a try. Maybe we can all work together to score a goal against your dad.”
Zach smiles in surprise when Ella actually agrees. You help him create a makeshift goal line with pebbles and shells as Ella kicks the ball over the sand with her grandparents and aunt. After you set up, you join Ella while Zach makes an exaggerated show of stretching.
“Is that how you always warm up?” you ask him.
“Is there something wrong with it?” he answers. Ella laughs as he dramatically stretches. By now, you can tell by the type of dad he is that he was always on the playful side.
Ella imitates his stretching, then determination flashes over her face and she darts forward to try to kick the ball past him without warning. Zach pretends to be too slow to react, reaching after the ball has already whizzed past him, and lets out a defeated groan.
He picks his daughter up as she jumps in victory, jokingly demanding she tell him when she got so good at soccer. You smile as you watch them share a moment of joy in the sun.
“Ella, would you ever want to go to one of your dad’s games?” you offer.
“Yeah!” she exclaims.
“Yeah?” Zach says. “Why don’t you say yeah whenever I ask?”
“Just take the win, Zach,” you say with a laugh. He grins, loving the way his name sounds when it comes from you.
You enjoy the rest of the afternoon, talking with Zach’s family, playing with Ella, catching glances at Zach when he’s not looking. They invite you to dinner, but you politely decline, figuring you should give them time alone. You thank them for the fun and go home feeling lighter than you did when you woke up.
That evening, as Connie helps Zach clean up after dinner, she mentions how good you are for Ella. He glances down at his mom as she hands him a rinsed plate to put in the dishwasher.
“She really is,” Zach agrees.
“I think she’s good for you, too,” she says with a hint of a smile.
“Real subtle, Mom,” he chuckles nervously. “It’s not like that.”
“Alright,” she says with an unconvinced tone. She takes a beat. “I just need to say–”
“Of course you do,” he mumbles with an amused smirk.
“–that I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time,” she speaks over him. “I haven’t seen you be you. But you are again, especially when she’s around. It’s just nice to see you smiling so much again. I know things have been tough for you.”
Zach’s teeth dig into his bottom lip. His mom is right; things have been tough, even before Jade left. He desperately wanted companionship, to at least come home to someone he could call a friend, but Jade couldn’t give him what he needed. He hasn’t felt full of life in a long time. Not until you knocked on his door.
“I’m better now,” he says.
Connie nods, sadness filling her features as she pulls Zach in for a side-hug.
“Hey, I’m alright,” he consoles her. “Don't worry about me.”
“You’re a parent. You should know the worrying never stops.” She pulls back. “So, you’re really going to deny it? I see the way you look at her.”
Zach shakes his head with an exaggerated scoff.
“You’re relentless,” he jokes.
“You used to tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Alright,” she sighs. “She looks at you the same way, you know.”
“Mom.”
Connie laughs and hands him another plate. He knows that the idea of you looking at him the way he looks at you won’t leave his mind any time soon.
(part two)
#so hard into my zach era like i literally can’t believe how much i wrote#zach maclaren and you#zach maclaren and y/n#zach maclaren and reader#zach maclaren x y/n#zach maclaren x you#zach maclaren x reader
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Today was a bittersweet day – the last day of the three-month parental leave Steve had taken when their daughter Robbie was born before he headed back to his counseling job.
Eddie knows that Steve is feeling torn a few different ways about going back to work.
On the one hand, Steve loves his job, and he’d worked his ass off earning his doctorate so he could be a trauma therapist just like he’d planned. Kids had also been a part of his plan, obviously, but as more of an in addition to type of way, rather than instead of when it came to his career. Eddie knows this, and he knows that Steve is excited to go back, to reconnect with his patients after three months apart.
Eddie also knows that their kids are everything to Steve in a way his job will never be (duh), and Eddie had seen the way Steve refused to ignore the gravity of today – the last day he doesn’t have to share his time with anything other than their daughters.
Steve had been emotional about going back to work in a similar way the first time around with Moe, and he’d called home about eight or nine times during his first day back in the office, asking how things were going and if he’d missed anything. Now, Moe is two-and-a-half (and some change, if they’re being technical), and Robbie just hit the three-month mark a few days ago. This time, Steve had done his best to split his time between their two daughters, and it’s not all that different from their normal day-to-day, honestly, just…something heavier in the air, maybe.
Now, Moe’s all fresh and clean from her bath, her bangs slicked back with the rest of her damp hair (Steve had put on a whole show of planting kisses all over her forehead and saying, “is this where you’ve been hiding your brilliant brain from us?” which always sends Moe into giggling hysterics), and Steve’s got her all bundled up in a big fluffy towel, snuggling her close with one arm as he balances Robbie on his chest with the other, all of them piled into a rocking chair while Eddie sits stretched out on Robbie’s rug.
“I’m probably not gonna be home when you wake up tomorrow morning,” Steve tells Moe, and it’s not the first time he’s brought up this particular subject today, but, y’know…toddlers. Really gotta nail in the point sometimes with toddlers, “‘Cause I’m going back to work, so I have to leave early to drive into Boston.”
“Why do you hafta drive to Boston?” Moe asked.
“Because that’s where my office is. Remember a few weeks ago when we visited my office?”
“Yeah and they met Robbie.”
“That’s right,” Steve nodded, “Everyone I work with met Robbie. I got to take a break from work when Robbie was born, and now it’s time for me to go back.”
Moe’s eyebrows are furrowed.
“But…I don’t want you to go.”
“I know, bug,” he tells her, “I miss you and Robbie and Daddy like crazy when I’m not home with you.”
“So why don’t you take more break?”
“I sorta took all the break I’m allowed to, sweet pea. It’s time for me to go back to work.”
Eddie looks at Moe, sees the cogs turning in her little brain as she tries to figure out a way to convince her dad to stay home with her.
“But what if you just don’t work anymore?”
It’s a good question, Eddie knows, and she’s not the only one asking it.
Not too long after Robbie’s arrival, when Max and El had come to visit and meet the new baby, Max had privately asked Eddie if he thought Steve might throw in the towel on the whole career thing this time around. Again, it’s a fair question for anybody who really knows Steve, anybody who sees how much he loves their kids and how much he loves being a dad, even if Eddie knows the answer is no. Still, it’s a close no.
Steve hums sympathetically, “Maybe someday, but I like my job. I get to help people, and I worked hard in school to be able to do that. Someday you might decide you want to have a job where you do more school and get special degrees.”
“Like what kinds of jobs?”
“Like a doctor or a lawyer, or maybe you want to work in a lab and do research on something. It’s a big world, Moe, and you can do whatever you set your mind to."
"I want to be an astronaut," Moe tells them.
"Well, there you go."
"Or I wanna be a cookie."
"Oh-" Steve's eyebrows furrow as Eddie starts to laugh. "Alright..."
"That's my girl," Eddie says, "Astronaut or pastry. I like it."
#steve calls the house no less than ten times the next day#and despite this conversation moe still is piiiiiissed when she wakes up and finds out steve is gone#eddie: babe we talked about this#eddie: multiple times#look – moe likes her routine. she likes her and steve's early morning snuggles and she Did Not Appreciate the lack of warning#(she's a lil spectrum-y if it isn't obvious)#steddie#liv’s steddie dads verse#steddie dads#steve harrington#eddie munson
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Not sure if you are taking request but can we get an angst with Matt where like reader and him are dating for years but recently comments have been getting to her or people have been following her home and eventually she decideds to break up with Matt but Matt takes things to in his hands where he’s tells ppl to stop and they get back together?(Lol sorry if it didn’t make sense but thank you)
𝜗𝜚 new messege .ᐟ.ᐟ
Hey gorgeous, I really liked this idea, I hope you like it too.
You are the only thing I want - Matt Sturniolo
Sumary: You and Matt had a secret relationship and when you decide to make it public everything goes wrong...
Warnings: angst hate messages towards reader, this is just angst with a happy ending
A/n: Leave me ideas to write in my inbox because I'm running out of ideas. I'm sorry if something is misspelled or not understood. My first language is not English. By the way, what do you think of my new theme, in my opinion, it's very cute like the baby pink and light brown. 🩷🧸
⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧
It had been exactly fourteen months since the first time you and Matt kissed. You hadn't imagined then how important he would become in your life, nor that being with him would be so complicated. Because, although you adored each other and the bond between you grew every day, that relationship had to be kept secret. It was a mutual decision, made for practical reasons. At first, the thrill of secrecy made everything more exciting. But now, you both felt exhausted.
You had spent too many nights talking secretly in the car, dates arranged down to the last detail so as not to be seen, or moments of solitude where, instead of shouting to the world how much you loved each other, you had to hide it like a forbidden secret. The situation was starting to weigh on you.
That night, you were on the couch at Matt's house. He was holding you, and your head was resting on his shoulder while you felt his fingers playing with the strands of your hair.
"Aren't you tired of this?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence.
You raised your head and looked at him, searching his eyes for what he really wanted to say.
"What are you talking about?"
"About having to hide… about not being able to tell anyone how amazing you are." Matt smiled, but his eyes reflected a sadness that you shared.
"Of course I'm tired. Sometimes I wish we could be a normal couple".
"Then let's do it", he suggested, giving your hand a squeeze. "Let's make it public. I don't care what others say. I want to be with you, and I want everyone to know it."
The idea made you feel butterflies in your stomach. The love you had for Matt was bigger than any fear, and the fact that he was willing to share your relationship with his fans made you feel special. You decided to announce it on social media.
When Matt uploaded the first photo of the two of you together, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The image showed an intimate moment, a selfie of the two smiling on the beach, with the sunset in the background. The caption was simple but powerful: “Over a year together, and we’re just getting started.”
For the first few hours, the response was overwhelmingly positive. There were comments from fans congratulating and supporting them: “They look beautiful together,” “Finally someone makes Matt happy as he deserves,” “What a great couple they make!”
But over time, other types of messages began to appear. “Her? Is he really with her?”, “She’s not enough for him,” “She’s only with him for fame, I’m sure she’ll use him to become famous,” “Poor Matt, he deserves someone better.”
At first, you tried not to take them seriously. But every time you checked your phone, more of those comments appeared. There were people criticizing your appearance: “She’s too basic for someone like him,” “She’s not even pretty, how dare she date Matt?”, “Matt deserves someone more attractive.”
The words cut you deeply. You knew you shouldn’t let those comments affect you, but you couldn’t stop the doubts from starting to poison your mind. Every time you looked in the mirror, you started to see those flaws that others mentioned. Insecurity began to invade you in a way you hadn’t experienced before.
Matt tried to comfort you whenever he noticed you looking down. Sometimes, during the night, he would catch you reading the comments on your phone, and he would simply take the phone away from you and hold you, whispering that he loved you and that was all that mattered.
“You don’t need to listen to those people, babe,” he said, looking at you with a sincere expression. “They don’t know anything about you, they don’t know how amazing you are.”
The comments didn’t stop, though. Every day they became crueler and crueler. Rumors began to circulate suggesting that you were only with Matt to gain followers, or that you were using his fame to make yourself known. People commented on every aspect of your life, from how you dressed to how you looked without makeup. There were those who said things like, “It’s obvious that she dresses like that to get attention, can’t she dress up better?” or “She should thank Matt for giving her a chance, she’s just an ordinary girl.”
At some point, comments were no longer the only thing. People started following you home, taking photos of you without your permission, and even trying to get close to you to ask you invasive questions. You felt watched and judged at every turn, and little by little, you started to believe that you weren't enough, that maybe all those people were right.
The pressure began to be unbearable. Your self-esteem plummeted, and every time you looked in the mirror, you saw someone who, according to the world, wasn’t enough. Matt tried to cheer you up, to remind you how much he loved you, but you couldn’t stand it anymore.
One night, after one of your most difficult conversations, you asked him to meet you. Matt came over to your house, and as soon as you saw him, he knew something was wrong. He stared at you in silence as you searched for the words to say to him.
“Matt… I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, your voice shaking.
“What are you saying?” he asked, frowning, clearly worried.
“I can’t be in this relationship anymore. The pressure, the comments… they’re tearing me apart. I can’t take it anymore.
Matt looked at you, unable to process what you were saying. He was trying to understand, but the pain in your eyes made it clear to him that you were really hurt.
“But… I love you, and I don’t care what other people think. They don’t understand what we have.”
“I know, Matt. I know you love me, but I can’t go on like this. I’m losing myself in all of this.” It's getting harder and harder to get up and pretend everything is okay.
You took a deep breath, trying to hold back your tears. “Matt… I can’t keep going like this. I can’t handle the pressure, the comments, the people following me everywhere. I feel like I’m losing myself, and I don’t want to drag you into this. I think… I think it’s best that we break up.”
The goodbye was hard and heartbreaking for both of us. In the days that followed, Matt stayed away from social media, not mentioning anything about what had happened. He isolated himself, trying to understand how the love of his life had to walk away because of the cruelty of others.
Weeks went by as you tried to get over the situation, even though you felt empty. However, one afternoon, while you were checking your social media, you noticed a post from Matt that surprised you.
It was a photo of you and him that Nick had taken, and the message was clear and direct: “I don't give a shit what others say about my girlfriend. I'm with her because I love her, and that's never going to change.”
Matt's public statement was not only a message to his fans, but a promise that he was willing to stand up for what they had. Feeling a torrent of emotions, you decided to call him. When he answered, his voice trembled with emotion.
"I can't go on without you" he said quietly, while you tried to hold back your tears.
"Me neither, Matt… I love you."
That night, they met again, and between tears and hugs, they knew that this time there would be nothing and no one that could separate.
⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮
⤷ Tags... @matthewsroses @sophand4n4 @strnilolover @lolastrniolo
#⭑𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 ᯓ★.ᐟ.ᐟ#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt stuniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris and matt#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo#sturniolos smut#sturniolos fluff#the sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo fluff#nick sturniolo#request
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JJ MAYBANK NSFW ALPHABET
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
jj is the absolute sweetest!!! he can be laughing and telling you jokes, but if you need him to be he can be sweet and caring. if it was a particularly intimate session he’s sweet and gentle, normally tho he’s getting snacks to watch tv and laugh.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
jj really likes his arms cause they’re just insanely toned and nice. he’s always flexing in the mirror and other guy shit. on you it’s def ur ass. i mean he’s a guy cmon… he’s constantly slapping it, grabbing it, ect ect.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
he cums a lot and it shoots out in spurts. he also likes when you swallow it and will make out with you after you just gave him head and spit his nut back in your mouth. it tastes like shit tho so i wouldn’t recommend swallowing it.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
he stole a bunch of his dads old playboys and still looks at them. like he has a stash under his bed and jacks off to them to this day. not that bad but he’s so embarrassed about it and once cherry finds out she never lets him live it down.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
as shown in the first episode, jjs pretty experienced. safe to say he knows what he’s doing.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
definitely doggy he’s an ass man at heart no matter how much people try to say otherwise. then he can be all rough and shove your face down. but if he’s feeling nice he’ll pull you up by the throat and spit in your mouth <3
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
he normally likes to joke around and be funny during the moment. it’s just his personality atp and he doesn’t tone it down in the bedroom most of the time. his favorite type of sex is the giggly hands high sex you guys have.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
ngl he’s not doing much down there himself, your gonna have to tell him if you have a problem with it cause he doesn’t really care.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
he’s really good at making you feel special. constantly complimenting you, even when he’s being mean. definitely more funny and giggly in the moment but can be serious and super intimate if one of you needs it.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
i mean he’s definitely rubbing one out atleast once every other day. his sex drive is extremely high, so if your not there he’ll just yknow… do it himself.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
what isn’t his kink? his biggest kink is just feeling in charge it really gets him going. he’s super into sex while on substances. like high sex and drunk sex because everything is so much more sensitive and he loves that you trust him enough to fuck you while your not even in the right head. he also likes overstimulation and edging but yeah basically everything is his kink tbh.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
his favorite place is the bed but he honestly does not care. he’ll do it on the boat, in the car, on the couch, in public, on the ground it really doesn’t matter. he likes the bed the most though because it’s guaranteed privacy and the bed is soft so you guys can cuddle up right after.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
breathing tbh. seriously though anything makes him horny. he really likes feeling in charge since his life is already so out of control, so he likes when girls act submissive and bat their eyelashes and shit. (cherry also gives him lowkey foot jobs in public under tables and he loves it he’s bricked immediately)
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
it’s hard to get a no out of him, but honestly anything that’s gonna hurt you he’s not into extreme pain. don’t get me wrong he’ll slap you a little but nothing beyond that really.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
oh boy. he loves giving head. he could genuinely do it all day. he loves being able to take his time with it and make his girl feel as good as possible without his own needs getting in the way. so when he gets to taste you just know it’s not stopping anytime soon. he’s 10/10 too.
as far as him, he likes it and all but if he’s gonna have you suck his dick he might as well just fuck you in his mind. go big or go home i suppose.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
most of the time it’s fast and rough because that poor boy has no self control, but if it’s a special day like an anniversary, or one of you has had a particularly rough day he can make it slow and meaningful :))))
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
10/10. he’s down to get you off or get off himself anytime, anywhere.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
one hundred percent. he’s down for basically anything and he’s a total adrenaline junkie so anything you want to do to spice up your sex life, he’s down.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
he can go a solid 3 rounds before he’s tired out and needs a minute to get it back. but trust me it’ll only be a minute and then he’s back up and ready.
he can last a fairly long time if he wants to make you feel extra good, but normally it’s about average time, maybe a little less since hes just always so horny.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he’s the most likely to own toys out of all of the guys in my opinion. he doesn’t have any for himself but you guys have a pink vibrator he uses on you sometimes and he definitely has a pair of handcuffs.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
worlds biggest tease 1000%. sometimes he honestly likes the tease more than actually fucking. he will do anything in the world to rile you up before actually giving in to you.
“cmon mama, just some kissing and touching. can’t even handle that can you baby? it’s alright papa j’s gonna fix that for ya”
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
very very loud and whipery tbh. second behind pope. it’s not even just grunts sometimes he’s full on whimpering and moaning and begging if your on top or it’s just that good.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
john bs first girlfriend he ever had, like freshmen year, jj would jerk off to pictures of her. honestly sometimes it was more about knowing she had john b than it was about her being hot. something about knowing she had him in all the ways jj couldn’t made him so insanely hard. and her tits were huge. yeah…
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
maybe slightly above average size. not too thick but enough to make you feel it. uncut with a pretty pink tip that is basically always glistening with a bead of precum. very pretty but very manly at the same time.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
sky high. 24/7. all night. till the bed breaks. till the sun rises. till his dick falls off.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
honestly it takes him kinda a long time. he’ll normally lay there for a little bit after before getting up to clean you guys up. then he likes to chill for a little and talk or watch some tv together afterwards.
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cranked this out so fast and i’m so tired but yeah here’s this!!!
#jj maybank prompt#jj maybank obx#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj maybank#alphabet#obx#obx season 4
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Im so glad you're writing for Curly bc I'm so obsessed with him rn!! May I suggest (if you haven't done them already) some soft/fluffy post burn hcs? Like finally seing him again after a long drive to the hospital, mentally preparing yourself for what he might look like. Curly being so afraid about how you'd react, and just breaking down when you let out an "oh, Curly :(" and softly place a hand on his cheek, so worried that you might hurt him by accident that it's hardly even a touch at all. Curly leaning his cheek into your palm, having been so scared to see you and now so desperate for your touch.
Life returning to a new normal after a while, prosthetics and PT, skin grafts, so on. Lying in bed with him and being so relived and happy when he gets a spark of mischief like he used to and tries to tickle or play wrestle with you. Him quietly asking questions when the laughter dies down. if you missed his lips, or the blond hair you loved so much that now hardly grew at all. Reassuring him that it didn't matter what he looked like, or what he could and could not do anymore. He's still your curly.
Sorry this turned out so long 😭 I can't get him out of my head!
I LOVE what you wrote 🙏🙏 I'll be going off of these, taking bits and pieces of your hcs and then putting them in here. Overall just gonna be fluffy post crash Curly hcs :)
Of topic, but the way some people in this fandom treat post crash curly makes me nauseous. Finding out that some of you wouldn't treat him like I would makes me wanna cry. Maybe I'm too empathetic or maybe I'm a baby back bitch, either way, I'd care for this man so much. Y'all don't understand how much I love him.
Tw/cw; none!! One curse word but that's literally it (I think)
Not proofread
Extremely sensitive to touch for the first few weeks. I feel as though curly would be in incredible pain, but would try his best to keep your hands touching his cheeks, face, body in general. He'd even go as far as to whimper at how bad it hurt, yet still enduring it because he needed to know you still loved him.
He'd be so happy to see you anytime you were around. Just like pre crash, but it was more special. It got to the point where you would take off work for weeks at a time just to be with him, just so you could see him happy.
After the first two months of agonizing pain, you'd start touching him more. Not sexual, obviously, but just getting more physically affectionate. You'd be able to hug and kiss him goodbye, and hold on to his arm as you talked with him.
Speaking of talking, he wouldn't be able to, so you would talk for him. Basically telling him something, then answering any questions he may or may not have. You've known him long enough, you know how he'd react and question things, so it was practically a no brainer for you.
Now that he doesn't feel as much pain as he used to from your touches, you'd begin sleeping with him. NOT SEXUAL!!! Just cuddling up next to him in the hospital bed, laying your head on his shoulders and kissing him goodnight. Just like how you used to.
Eventually he'd start getting prosthetics, and aside from the physical therapy he's usually getting, you'd bring board games and playing cards so he could learn to use his new hands while still spending time with you.
Curly used to kick your ass in uno and honestly he still does. The trembling in his hands would slowly go away over time, and you were helping him with that much more than his physical therapist was; because at least he wanted to actually be around you.
After months and months, he'd finally be ready to take home. New prosthetics and a bunch of skin graft surgeries later, he's in good condition again. Not perfect in his eyes, but it is in yours.
He wouldn't be able to work, but Pony Express sends him checks as if he was. He gets enough from them, you could quit your job, but you don't want to be dependent on them. So you keep working.
Getting home from work is your favorite part of the day, having Curly be so happy to see you makes everything so worth it.
Your home life goes back to normal with a few exceptions, but nothing too drastic. Curly being in a wheelchair and still not being able to speak, but it's nothing you can't handle. You love him, you're willing to make sacrifices. He'd do the same for you, and you know that.
Bonus content; if you guys were married before the crash, once he got his prosthetic hands, he'd have you help him make a little beaded necklace for his ring to go on; that way he could still wear it :) he'd never take the necklace off once it's done
A/N; I've been pretty busy recently so sorry for the delay on requests; I have a lot of ideas for them though so hopefully they'll be out soon
#mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#mouthwashing curly#mouthwashing x reader#captain curly x reader#curly x reader#captain curly#i love him so much you guys dont understand id sell my nephew for him#AND my nieces
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that's okay
PAIRING ↬ academic rival!na jaemin x ace!female reader
TAGS ↬ fluff, romance, slight angst, academic rivals to lovers au, college au, fake dating au, jaemin = campus playboy, drunk decisions, art museum date, plushies because i want a plushie, jaemin is kinda whipped fr
SUMMARY ↬ you're determined to outshine your academic rival na jaemin, the campus heartthrob infamous for his frivolous reputation. but when a few too many drinks suddenly ropes you into a fake dating scheme with jaemin, you realize that there's much more to him than his playboy persona. can two opposites navigate a connection that’s anything but fake?
WORD COUNT ↬ 3.7k+
AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lotties-readings !! grinding this fic in a day was so fun. the 3 am brain creativity actually carried this time too. hope i did him justice 😭😭 SHOUTOUT TO THE ASEXUAL COMMUNITY I LOVE YALL <33 THIS ONE'S FOR YOU !!!!
PLAYLIST ↬ cooler than me - mike posner, anti-romantic - txt, are you satisfied? - marina, that's okay - d.o.
WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?
Na Jaemin. The Playboy. He’s probably slept with half of the school and the rumors are on and off with him. The college’s infamous frivolous playboy, a firm believer of the ‘hook up as much as you can before you find your soulmate!’ ideology. For some, it was oddly endearing. For you? Maddening. Because Na Jaemin wasn’t just a playboy. He was your rival. Jaemin just had this certain charm to him that attracted the masses. Everyone, including your friends, had had a crush on him at one point in their lives. Everyone except you. Despite his supposedly carefree attitude, he always ranked #1. And you? Stuck perpetually at #2, clawing at his heels, only for him to breeze past like it was nothing. If it were anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t care so much. But no—it had to be him.
You swore to steer clear of him. No parties, no flirtations, and certainly no personal involvement. That resolve lasted until one ill-advised college party, where Jaemin, drunk and absurdly charismatic, roped you into the lead role of his most ridiculous performance yet: his fake significant other. And you were equally as drunk to play along with it, nodding in the face of his ex-girlfriend as she looked at the both of you in disbelief. For a playboy like Jaemin, you thought he was managing to control his dating life better than this. But you guess he just got bored of being surrounded by love. “Just go with it,” he’d said. You hadn’t thought it would last beyond that night.
You were wrong.
You suppose it’s partly your own fault finding yourself in your current situation, considering the recent events. In a world where everyone is busy chasing after time, enjoying the dating scene, you’re an outcast. An outcast with false modesty to trick people’s curiosity. You should be used to them by now, their comments about you not being interested in relationships. And even though you do feel fed up with it, the thought of lying about dating someone just so they can shut up never crossed your mind.
“Remind me again why I have to spend the whole day being your pretend partner.” you say, glaring as Jaemin hands you a pastry. “The party doesn’t start until 10PM tonight!”
“Here you go, love. Be careful, it’s hot!” he says, completely ignoring your question. He resumes walking, hands in his pockets, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, resuming your slow stroll in the garden of a nearby art museum. You hurriedly take it from his hands if that would make him finally pay attention to your question.
“I know it’s hot,” you mutter, taking the pastry anyway. He’s insufferable. Even now, you can tell he’s doing this for show, making a big deal out of playing the doting boyfriend for the strangers milling about the museum garden. “Do you ever actually answer questions, or is that too much to ask?”
“Oh, I answer,” he breezily responds, unfolding a crumpled checklist from his coat pocket. “I’m just selective about when. Do you want to taste mine? I can taste yours too.”
“No thank you.”
Straightening the lapels of his gray coat, Jaemin fetches the brochure handed earlier to him out of his inner pocket and takes a quick look at it to make sure you checked out everything of interest in the area before entering the museum itself. “Now, do you want to check out the sculptures before we head to the main exhibit?”
The guy has a whole checklist of activities for the day. You’ve seen it. He purposely taped another page underneath just to scare you with its sheer length, but you’re seeing right through his tricks, the page is full of gibberish written just to take space. You’ve got your best frown on to keep the illusion of ignorance, hoping that you’d get bonus points for agreeing to go through the full contents of the list, both the real and the fake ones.
But is it really an act? The occasional tidbits of satisfaction coming from beating Jaemin’s brilliant mind (not that you’d ever give him the credit for it) are hardly enough to keep you entertained throughout the day. When the activities you take on today are meant to be just that, entertaining. And romantic too.
Now, were you a normal couple, a true couple, then maybe you’d be having fun now.
“Jaemin, I think partners are supposed to listen to each other. At the very least.”
He grins, entirely unbothered by your irritation. “Relax, Y/N. We’re supposed to look like we’re having fun. Couples don’t bicker this much in public, you know.”
“Maybe because real couples actually like each other.”
“And yet,” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “Here we are. The picture of romance.” Ah. He’s right, damn it.
“I only lowered my guard because these people don’t know us, stupid… Let’s get inside already!”
Hearing his low, annoying chuckle triggers the sensory neurons in your brain until a neat little image of his smirk is produced with near-perfect accuracy. Have you simply seen it too many times? There’s no escape even when you turn your back to him, great.
You grit your teeth but let him guide you down a quieter path, away from the crowds. It’s all part of the act, you remind yourself. Just one day of playing along, and people will stop speculating about your personal life. Totally worth it.
Right?
Inside the museum, the tension eases slightly. The museum is magnificent to explore with the many pieces of art it houses. There’s so much to see that you’d frankly not mind getting lost in here just to have an excuse to spend more time surrounded by art.
You have to admit, Jaemin chose the perfect dating spot. You’re not sure if it was based on your own preferences. Surely not. But you find yourself not minding it suddenly.
“Picture!” he announces, pulling you close before you can protest.
Hearing the signal, you instantly turn in the direction of the raised-up phone, smiling for the camera as Jaemin presses his face closer to yours.
“Oh, this is a good one, I’m definitely posting it. You look so in love.”
“I’m in love with this work, that’s it.” you say flatly, staring at the painting behind him.
“Uh-uh. That works for me too.” Jaemin replies while his fingers dance across the screen, likely typing some cheesy caption for the picture. A second later your own phone vibrates in your pocket, signaling that he posted the picture and tagged you in it, and you don’t even bother looking.
“At least you’re a natural, Jaemin.”
“What, in faking an expression? How are you so sure?”
You blink, meeting his gaze as some child holding a balloon separates the two of you for a mere second. Instinctively, you shorten the distance so you don’t lose Jaemin, looking for his hand to take hold of. You’ve already been through that today, linking hands in the crowds. And while there was no real need to do that right now, you just did that…
To the question in your eyes evoked from his last words, he smirks and adds, “There are pieces of art here that I look at with fondness just like you do.”
Your heart sinks for a moment, only to create palpitations that mess with your head. You have no idea where they came from or what evoked this feeling in your chest, but while looking anywhere but at Jaemin, your gaze falls on other couples passing by. You were instructed to watch them if you’re having trouble recreating the subtle romantic gestures that indicate dating. Advice from him no doubt, one that you wish you could forget because it’s too late telling your brain to forget what it’s been taught. But the question is, why the sudden turning of stomachs at the sight of them?
While failing to watch your step, you lose your balance and stumble on your own feet, meeting the hard ground hands-first. You feel eyes on you for a short moment; just a mere second any stranger might spare to witness the unfortunate event before moving on with their tour.
That’s it, except for Jaemin, who is there to pull you up in a manner of utmost care, dusting off your clothes, taking you to a more secluded area with benches to rest on and asking you at least three times if you’re alright before you can snap out of your surprised state and let out a murmur of affirmation.
In the whirlwind of emotions rushing through your slightly clouded mind, you put the embarrassment of your fall aside. As Jaemin turns your hand around to inspect it, you realize that no amount of hand-holding numbs your reaction to the touch of his warm hands.
And no amount of his exaggerated lovey-dovey gestures of affection could prepare you for the look of genuine worry over something so insignificant on his face.
“You fell on your hands, they must be scrapped… let’s get them under cold water, it would wash away the dirt too.”
“It’s okay I can do it myself.” You back away from Jaemin, running to take care of it.
And that’s when you realize it.
Pretending to be Jaemin’s partner might be the biggest mistake of your life.
Because it’s starting to feel a little too real.
When you exit the bathroom, Jaemin is waiting for you outside, arms crossed with an unreadable expression on his face. The two of you continue your museum date as normal, nothing out of the ordinary happening other than Jaemin just being Jaemin.
When lunchtime rolls around, Jaemin takes you into the museum café, refusing to let you pay for anything even though he bought the museum tickets as well. Struggle as much as you want, Jaemin was pretty stubborn.
You and Jaemin sit across from each other, nursing cups of hot chocolate. The quiet buzz of conversation around you blends with the faint classical music playing overhead, the calmness contrasting your otherwise chaotic day.
You’re still nursing your wounded pride (and scraped hands) from earlier. Jaemin’s fussing had been embarrassing, sure, but also... oddly touching. It’s been messing with your head ever since.
“You’re being quiet,” Jaemin says, breaking the silence. He stirs his drink and watches you with another unreadable expression. “Not complaining. Unusual for you.”
“Just tired,” you mutter, avoiding his gaze. “This whole thing is exhausting.”
“Yeah?” He leans back, “What part? The fake dating, or me?”
“Both.”
His laugh is soft, almost self-deprecating. “Fair.”
A moment passes, and you realize he’s studying you. Not with his usual playful smirk, but something more serious. It’s unsettling and scary, like he’s peeling back layers you didn’t even know you had.
“You know,” he starts, voice quieter now, “you’ve always hated me.”
Your head snaps up. “What? I don’t—”
“Don’t lie. I noticed.” he cuts in, but there’s no malice in his tone. “It’s fine. I get it. I mean, I’m Na Jaemin, right? The playboy. The guy who’s ‘probably slept with half the school.’” He uses his fingers to air quote the phrase, lips forming a bitter smile. “That’s what people say, isn’t it?”
You feel a pang of guilt. It’s exactly what you’ve always thought, always assumed about him.
He continues, eyes fixed on his drink. “Funny thing is, that wasn’t true at first. I wasn’t like this in high school. Sure, I was flirty, but it was harmless, y’know? Then one day, someone started a rumor about me. Said I hooked up with some senior at a party.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t true, but people believed it. And once the rumors started, they didn’t stop. Girls came up to me and I just... didn’t say no.”
You blink, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. “Why didn’t you?”
“Why not?” His smile not breaking, “They already thought I was that guy. And honestly? It was easier to play the part than fight it. People liked the idea of me being the ‘fun, no-strings-attached’ guy. I became what they wanted.”
You’re quiet, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. All this time, you’d judged him without really knowing him. And now, sitting across from him, you realize how wrong you’d been.
“I’m sorry,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
“For what?”
“For... hating you, I guess. I just—” You hesitate, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, searching for the right words. “I’ve never liked the whole ‘playboy’ thing. It feels... shallow. And I don’t understand how people can be so casual about it.”
Jaemin’s gaze softens. “That’s because it’s not your thing. And that’s okay.”
Your eyes lit up with shock. You definitely weren’t expecting Jaemin to be this receptive towards your criticisms of him. “I guess I’ve always judged people like you because I don’t... get it. Sex and dating just seem so complicated and messy. I don’t want anything to do with it.”
Jaemin tilts his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You’re ace, right?”
You nod, surprised he remembered. He must’ve heard it somewhere, you barely told anyone except for your close friends. Others just assumed, which was fine by you.
“That’s... honestly kind of cool,” he says, leaning forward. “I mean it. You don��t have to deal with all this shit. Expectations, drama, people using you for what they want. You just... are. I envy that.”
“You do?” The idea feels absurd. Jaemin, envying you?
“Yeah.” He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in it. “I’ve spent so much time being what other people expect. Sometimes I don’t even know who I really am. But you? You’re just you. That’s... rare.”
His words catch you off guard, leaving a strange ache in your chest. You wonder if he’s just been hiding behind a mask this whole time. Who really was the Na Jaemin sitting right in front of you right now? “Well,” you say softly, “I think you’re more than what people say about you.”
He raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Careful, Y/N. That almost sounded like a compliment. You’re supposed to hate me.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” you shoot back, but there’s no hostility in your tone.
For the first time, you see him for who he really is. Not Na Jaemin, the playboy, your rival… but just... Jaemin. And maybe, just maybe, you don’t hate him as much as you thought.
When the two of you finished your museum exploration, you found yourselves in the gift shop. The aisles were packed with trinkets, books, and stuffed animals, the kind of things that were charming but utterly unnecessary and overly expensive. You didn’t plan on buying anything, but Jaemin insisted he wanted to pick up something for a friend.
Shivering slightly, you rubbed your arms, trying to warm up in the chill from the air conditioning blowing down from the vent above.
“Cold?” Jaemin asked, his sharp eyes catching your sudden movement.
“Oh, just the A/C,” you replied quickly, waving him off, but you couldn’t stop the flush creeping over your cheeks.
“Do you want my coat?” He was already starting to remove his gray jacket, but you held up a hand.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you said hastily. “It’ll be warmer outside.”
Jaemin paused, then smirked. “Aren’t you glad your friends dragged you to that party?” He asked, standing right beside you now, picking up a penguin from the stuffed animal bin. “Isn’t he cute?”
“Absolutely not,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “Though I’ll admit, this has been... fun. Even if the ‘fake dating’ part threw me for a loop. And yes, he’s super cute. But penguins aren’t my favorite.”
He raised an eyebrow, eyes burning into you, as he turned the penguin over in his hands. “Who said it was fake?”
You blinked at him, unsure if you’d heard right. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He didn’t answer, just hummed and walked away, leaving you standing there with your arms crossed, frowning after him. What’s he playing at?
Trying to shake off the odd tension, you wandered to another shelf and found yourself staring at a tower of cell phone plushies. Your eyes landed on a bunny plush, adorable, with floppy ears, sparkling blue eyes, and a pink nose. You reached for it, but so did another hand.
“Oops—sorry,” you stammered, looking up to see Jaemin standing beside you again.
“Oh,” he said, his voice light, but his eyes were unreadable.
“I was just—”
“Which one did you want?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious.
“The bunny,” you admitted, pointing. “But it’s the last one, and if you wanted it—”
Before you could finish, he grabbed it.
“Actually, I did,” he said, pulling out his wallet and heading to the cashier.
You stood there, stunned and a little annoyed. Seriously? He’s that kind of guy?
As you stared forlornly at the remaining plushies: a raccoon, a squirrel, and a cat that weren’t nearly as cute. You sighed. It’s fine. It’s just a toy. But somehow, it still stung.
“Here.”
You turned to see Jaemin dangling the bunny plush in front of you, a playful grin on his face. “You—I thought you wanted it?” you said as you reached out to take it. The plush felt even softer than it looked.
“I did,” he said with a wink. “But I wanted to buy it for you.”
“I—thank you.” You stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling silly but also oddly happy. A big, goofy grin spread across your face as you hugged the bunny to your chest.
Jaemin chuckled softly. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”
“Shut up,” you fired back, but your cheeks still burned.
You started to turn away, but Jaemin stopped you with a gentle tug on your sleeve. His expression was different now, serious, almost nervous, as he looked at you.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Your stomach flipped. “What is it?”
“This... whole fake dating thing?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost shy. That was strange in comparison to his usual confidence. “It wasn’t just about my ex, or shutting people up. I—I’ve been watching you for a while. I mean, not in a creepy way,” he added quickly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I just... I’ve always been interested in you. You’re smart, funny, and you don’t care about impressing anyone. You’re... different. In a good way.”
Oh you weren’t expecting that. You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jaemin, I—”
“I know you have concerns,” he said, cutting you off gently. “About... your sexuality, and what people might think. But I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what the world expects or what people say. I care about you. And I’m not asking you to change or be anything other than yourself. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. You didn’t know what to say. You’d spent so long assuming Jaemin was just a shallow playboy, someone who could never understand you. But now, looking into his eyes, you realized how wrong you’d been. Jaemin understood you way too well. Enough to the point where he was hitting all the right points of reassurance in your heart.
“I don’t know if I can be what you’re looking for,” you whispered.
He smiled softly. “You already are.”
For a moment, the world around you faded. The noise of the gift shop, the bustle of other shoppers. It was just you and Jaemin, and the quiet, fragile connection that had grown between you.
Maybe this wasn’t fake after all.
You realized just how much he’d been hiding. Jaemin, the playboy everyone admired, the guy who never seemed to take anything seriously, was opening up to you in a way that was raw, even vulnerable.
“Honestly?” you whispered, clutching the bunny plush to your chest. “I never thought someone like you would understand... someone like me.”
He chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. “I get that. I probably don’t fit the part, huh? But, Y/N, you’re incredible just as you are. I think it’s amazing that you know what you want and what you don’t want. I wish I’d figured that out sooner.”
You looked down, feeling way too emotional, “So, you really don’t... mind?”
Jaemin shook his head, his smile was gentle. “Not even a little. I’m here because I like you for who you are. You don’t need to be anyone else or change anything about yourself. I’m fully willing to love you. Just like this.”
His words settled over you, as warm and comforting as his coat might have been. The insecurities you’d held about relationships, about your identity, all the ways you feared you might not be enough for someone. Maybe never even find someone at all? They began to melt, replaced by a quiet sense of peace.
“So... if this isn’t fake, does that mean this is... this date is… real?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jaemin smiled, reaching down to take your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours in a way that felt so natural it sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s as real as you want it to be. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, figuring this out together.”
Looking up at him, you felt something you hadn’t quite felt before. This wasn’t about conforming to anyone’s idea of love or romance. It was about connection. And standing there, surrounded by stuffed animals and museum souvenirs, you felt like you’d found something rare.
You squeezed his hand, a small smile breaking across your face. “Alright, Jaemin. Let’s give this a try. Just... don’t go stealing all the last plushies every time we’re out together, okay?”
He laughed, his grin brightening at your words. “Only if you agree to keep that bunny plush with you as a reminder.”
“Of what?”
“Of this moment. And of the fact that someone finds you absolutely perfect, exactly as you are.”
The two of you walked out of the gift shop hand in hand, leaving behind any doubts and stepping into something perfectly real.
PERM TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000 @polarisjisung
#nct dream#na jaemin#jaemin#nct drabbles#nct dream fluff#nct dream drabbles#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#nct dream x reader#nct dream x you#nct dream soft hours#jaemin x reader#jaemin x you#jaemin x y/n#jaemin fluff#jaemin fanfic#jaemin drabbles#jaemin scenarios#jaemin imagines#nct fluff#nct imagines#nct#blue jisungs's requests#jaemin nct#jaemin fic#nct dream reactions
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It’s been like. Five whole minutes since I’ve turned fun sex things into hurt/comfort. So. :)
human au, when Dream and Hob get together Hob thinks Dream has a run-of-the-mill oral fixation. He always seems to want to suck Hob’s cock, warm his cock In his mouth for ages, when they have sex he insists he wears some kind of gag.
The truth is though… it’s not that Dream doesn’t like those things, but that’s not why he does it. He’s just very insecure about any noise that could come out of his mouth.
People always tell him how awkward he is and that he can barely hold a normal conversation (he has no idea how he landed people-person, charismatic Hob) so he’s certain he’d fail at dirty talk. And his laugh is so ugly, surely any moans or noises he makes during sex would be equally awful. And of course, his worst nightmare is getting caught up in the moment and letting an “I love you” slip FAR too early in the relationship than is acceptable. There is simply no way anything good could come from his mouth (ever, but especially during sex) so he deals with it by keeping his mouth occupied.
I can’t decide how Hob figures it out- if he puts all the pieces together during sex or foreplay, or if it somehow comes out during a more domestic moment. Either way, he insists on ravishing Dream with his mouth free and uncovered so he can hear every lovely sound he makes (and prove that he loves his silly boyfriend no matter what).
-🦇
We love the hurt/comfort smut here!!!! Hell yeah!!!!
I have a certain idea about how Hob finds out about Dream’s whole complicated relationship with his own vocality. It all comes out when Dream, quite suddenly loses his voice altogether. He gets a little bout of laryngitis during flu season, and while he's not super sick, he also can't speak. He's reduced to texting and writing little notes while Hob fusses over him and makes him plenty of nice cups of tea.
During his illness, Dream is visited by his sibling Desire. Hob has never met them before, but honestly he's more focused on Dream than anything else. He has a vague notion that the two siblings don't exactly get on, however, and this becomes apparent when Desire makes a series of quips about what a relief it is to have Dream silenced. If only he would be quiet all the time! He's so much more bearable when he's not making any noise.
Hob clocks Dream’s face during this series of bad jokes and all he sees is... resignation. He realises that Dream believes Desire's cruel words. Everything starts to make sense.
After the laryngitis passes and bedroom activities are back on the menu, Hob cautiously broaches the fact that he really doesn't want Dream to be gagged this time. He doesn't want him to muffle his face in the pillow, either. He'd quite like to have some very boring and tender missionary sex, and he'd like to hear Dream’s voice and his noises the whole time.
Unfortunately for Dream he's in love, and he can't deny Hob anything, let alone something so sweet and pure. He's sure that Hob will be disgusted by his noises, but he agrees anyway. Maybe Hob will forgive him for being so loud, if he behaves himself well in other ways...
In reality Hob is the one making the most noise because he absolutely sobs his way through the sex. Hearing his sweet Dream's pleasure for the first time is so overwhelming and almost spiritual, he can't help but cry. There's a long way to go, but Hob is determined: he's going to make sure that Dream is never silenced again. Hob wants to hear everything that comes from his beloved's mouth - especially if its an "I love you!"
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I kind want wukong to move on in your au. It is clear that macaque wasn't that good for him,sometimes...making himself improve himself over and over again,just to get macaque approval....when he gets nothing in return,he deserves to be happy,it best he shouldn't be dependent on macaque to be happy,he needs let go in his own way.
I really want Wukong to be happy (I am wukong bias)
“To fill those months he spent…without me caring what he felt…”
The king feels the painful ache in his heart and head just recalling how he never asked Macaque about those months even now…to afraid to hear to misery and to recall the news adding into their already crumbling lives after that fire…
If he could, he’d redo everything but if he had to choose one thing to fix…it would be the first time he felt his Ma ache didn’t hiccup and weep through his apology that Wukong should e spoken to him. To stay in that room and hold him tight, promise him they’d make their family a different way and assuring the beautiful demon that his love wasn’t dependent on his string he was or what he offered and serviced the king with.
That his love was never going to fade for him if he didn’t put Wukong above everyone.
“…if anyone should move on…it should be him…he should’ve moved on centuries ago… it he didn’t…how do I repay a loyalty so….so cruel to one’s self?”
Yeeeeaaaah I fancy myself of having their selfishness towards each other appearing at different times- Wukong when he was young loved Macaque he truly did- he just also assumed that it didn’t change that he does what he wants without compromise on his own end…and Macaque was like how Wukong is now- dependent on him and his love and attention. Wukong was freedom for him, Wukong was his first everything and the man he left behind his home and family for. If he didn’t have Wukong’s love, what was the point of leaving his home? To be outed as the naive fool who gave a selfish demon his all only to be tossed once he wasn’t valuable.
Wukong switched places now- now he’s desperate to covet Macaque- to keep him at his side and never let go as it was once he became emperor that the distance between them started to become obvious and he even slept in different rooms until he cried to Macaque who gave in on being in the same room- trying to be normal again. And they hit some normalcy despite Macaque wishing to go home still, MK came in eventually, and it was stable- and Wukong managed to even give Macaque something they thought they’d never have- a child in the form of MK.
With the divorce arc tho- it’s because things fell apart again because a child didn’t fix it all and the fact nobody apologized yet, and Macaque wants to do something he wants with or without Wukong now- so he’d rather separate and go home than just nodding to whatever Wukong wants
(Can you tell I like the angsty drama despite my crying eyes rn? 🥲)
But yeah I love Wukong very much as a character which is why [holding trauma gun] he needs all this for the JUICE of my meal that is this plot/j
#lmk#heavenly emperors au#shadowpeach#lmk macaque#lmk shadowpeach#sun wukong#my art#sun wukong x macaque#lmk fanart#angst#lmk angst#shadowpeach au#shadowpeach angst#I make my favorites suffer#but also I need happy endings#immortal characters suffer the most at my hands ngl
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How would baking with the mercs go?
Authors note sorry it's all short and possibly unreadable I might do some more of the fellas another time :) I'm am so cold and eepy
Pyro, Sniper, and Scout :)
Pyro
Spectacularly, believe me, it’d go so well, definitely no burning around here! No sir!
Jokes aside, it’d go pretty well!
You guys would bake some cupcakes, maybe some sugar cookies, as they’d probably love all things sweet in the kitchen, and you’d both be covered in flour, eggs, sugar, and god knows what in no time.
You’d get walked in on while jousting with rolling pins, and have to try and make it seem like you were being normal. Impossible.
Pyro would be sat, cross legged on the floor in front of the oven, watching the baked goods through the window.
Only some of the confectionaries would come out burnt, mostly due to you two getting distracted flipping through the recipe book and gawking at all the pretty treats.
You'd point like an excited ape at a towering cake, and Pyro would excitedly drum their hands on the paper and teeter on their heels, squeaking out muffled, joyous sounds under the mask as the cycle continued.
You guys would FEAST on your delicacies in Pyro's room, and have a little picnic/tea party with some old cartoons in the background :)
~~~
Sniper
It’d be a pretty peaceful activity, I’d imagine, an hour or so spent kneading, rolling and cutting pre bought cookie dough before you set it in the oven for as long as it says on the tin while you go spoon in his bed.
He probably wouldn’t have the ingredients for baking (or much fancy cooking) in the camper, and when you guys snuck into the base’s pantry, Lieutenant Bites was paws shoulders deep in the sugar, so.
The cookies would come out pretty perfectly, a little misshapen, (Sniper definitely tried to turn one into a heart, or an animal of some sort, and it came out as a funny blob) but really good!
He'd make sure you were both there ready the second they started turning a yummy golden brown around the edges.
He'd pull out the tray trying not to laugh, “Promise you won't laugh… the dog's gone blobby—” And almost drop everything.
You guys would cook up a batch, put half in a nice big baggy and eat the other half with him on the sofa with a board game in progress on the coffee table in front of you.
~~~
Scout
He's throwing the eggs between his hands like that one cooking mama mini game, and is NARROWLY avoiding splattering them absolutely fucking EVERYWHERE.
He'd absolutely go try and steal one from Archimedes if he dropped one
There's a crumpled sheet of paper with his ma's Boston cream pie recipe on the counter, and flour covering every single surface.
“Look, I don't know what’cha mean by ‘It won't work’— Are you sayin’ my ma ain't a world star chef? Nuh— Nuh-uh, I ain't listenin!”
He's asking you to make it tiered like a wedding cake, and he's adamant that not only is it possible, but that you definitely know how to do it.
He's got his fingers in his ears when you try telling him you don't think you can do that, and only starts listening again when you offer him the whisk to lick when you're done stirring the base cake mix.
The cake comes out okay, you manage to get just about everything put together, though, you guys definitely ate a bit too much of the cream while you were waiting, and only had a small layer to put in by the end.
It's yummy, at least! And when anyone comes into the kitchen wondering why it smells vaguely like burning and moreso like cake, you two link up like a defensive wall in front of it, looking around very inconspicuously, of course.
“What cake? Where? Someone's got cake?” Sloooowly hiding it behind your backs.
#sniper tf2#pyro tf2#scout tf2#tf2 imagines#tf2 x reader#team fortress 2#tf2#tf2 sniper#tf2 scout#tf2 pyro#oh god it's at it again
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Question: What do you think will be the reaction of the three rabbits to their strange dream
In a dream Lucky was playing with the rabbit's ear before kissing In Frankie mouth
How will each the reaction be?
real frankie cartoon frankie monster frankie
and What did they think of their dream When they wake up from their sleep
This was supposed to be shorter. Woopsie. Tw/ lil suggestive nothing to bad.
Real Frankie:
Of course Frankie had dreamt about his little contestant many times before. Admittedly they were mostly just a prop to them listing off new ideas for the show or there to shower him with money as the viewership went up. You know, normal things. But tonight the man was taking a slightly different role, one Frankie hadn’t seen before.
They were sitting in the rabbit’s office but Lucky had forgoed his usual seating arrangement and was instead perched beside the rabbit on the edge of his desk, looking at him expectantly. Frankie was immediately aware this must be a dream. His money maker never let himself act so lax around him, let alone look at him like that. Smirking he just shrugged and decided to see how this would play out, it could prove to be entertaining at least.
Reaching out Lucky gently cupped Frankie’s cheeks, giving him some small scratches behind the little tufts he had. Frankie just let out a soft purr, he never could resist this type of attention even in a dream.
“You alright there Frankie? You seem quiet.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft as he spoke, nothing like the brash tone he typically used.
“Hmm, just thinking is all. Nothing to worry about Lucky.” The man just nodded before he finally pulled back as he reached up and removed his mask and hood, letting the rabbit see the soft smile that graced his lips. Oh yeah this was definitely a dream.
Frankie was just about to comment on how unlike himself this dream Lucky was acting only to find himself cut off as his contestant lifted his head, the space between them negligible now. He felt them playing with one of his ears as they studied him closely.
“You know I haven’t thanked you properly. For all you’ve done for me that is.”
“Oh?” The rabbit was too intrigued now to see where his processors were going to take this, so he continued to play into the scene.
“Maybe I could think of a way to show you just how grateful I really am~?” The suggestive tone and heavy lidded eyes didn’t escape the rabbit’s attention.
“I’d like to see what you have in mind my little rabbit~” He heard the man giggle softly, a small dusting of blush appearing on their cheeks. Then predictably they leaned forward placing their lips against the rabbit’s, a shy kiss but with promises of more to come.
Frankie couldn’t take it anymore, he suddenly burst into a fit of laughter causing the dream Lucky to pull away. His Lucky would never act anything like this. It was comical just how much this one was acting like a stereotypical love interest, honestly it was kinda cringey. A sudden change came over the dream Lucky, the love struck damsel turning into a grouchy man who shot the rabbit a dirty look.
“Bastard, I try to do something nice and this is the thanks I get? Asshole!” This only made Frankie laugh even harder as he dragged the now kicking man into his arms to nuzzle him. Yep he much preferred this version of Lucky. It was much more fun.
“There’s the lucky contestant I know. Now about showing me just how grateful you are~”
“In your dreams, you oversized rodent!”
Cartoon Frankie:
Of course the rabbit was confused to say the least. No one should be able to enter the strange warped space he called home, unless one of the animators placed them here of course. But there he was, that troublesome man that The Other insisted on keeping around as their personal little human pet. It made the toon’s blood boil just looking at them, especially as when they noticed him he could tell they were smirking.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Hello to you too, puffball.” Frankie felt his eyebrow twitch at the nickname. The bastard had been using it for a while now given how much it riled the rabbit up. It was insulting cute and pissed him off regardless.
“Piss off human! I don’t have the energy to deal with you today. Why don’t you go and play with that reject of yours? How close are you two to starting an OF account by the way?” The remarks were cruel of course, he always was. Anything to get under the man’s skin and piss him off. Alas they only broke out into laughter, obviously more amused than anything with the rabbits' rant.
“Oh someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today! And is that a hint of jealousy I hear?”
“J-Jealousy?! As if I’d have anything to be jealous of from that waste of spare parts! I’m the star here, remember! The only reason he’s even still around is because of that little trick he pulled last season. Ruined my whole fucking game show just save his own hide!” The audacity of this man! Frankie could already feel his fur bristling up, his teeth going sharp as he got more and more furious. He wasn't going to listen to this piece of shit any longer. He had too much dignity and self respect to let him get to him in his own home! Turning on his heel he proceed to storm off, refusing to humour the human any longer
“That is true, can’t argue with you there. But there is still one thing he has that you don’t…”
That got Frankie to stop dead in his tracks, his fur standing on end as a shiver went through him. Swallowing, he slowly looked back over his shoulder, only to see the human towering over him, their mask now gone and a cruel smile plastered across their face. How did they-?
“Do you know what that is, Frankie~?” The sickly sweet tone they were using just made the rabbit nervously swallow. He knew, he knew in the back of his head, but he wouldn’t dare admit it. Not even to himself. The Lucky in front of him just chuckled as he crouched down so they were eye level now. His hands came out to cup the toons’ cheeks, causing him to immediately melt at his touch. He was powerless as the man gently petted him, so desperate for even the slightest physical affection that he’d already started to purr softly, his foot thumping against the floor. He must look like a truly pathetic sight.
He heard Lucky chuckle as he pulled the rabbit closer to him, able to feel their breath now against his lips causing him to whimper softly. This was too much. It was overwhelming. Opening his eyes to finally face the human in front of him, he saw their eyes sparkling with mischievous joy, obviously more than pleased with his reaction. And finally they spoke again.
“M.E. Me~” The teasing tone had gotten to the rabbit as he felt his face beginning to burn as he went completely red. This was not happening. He refused to let this human tease him like this.
He tried to will himself to yank himself free. To tell that human to go and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. Hell, tell him to go swim in the slime for all he cares. But he couldn’t. He wanted this too badly, even if he refused to admit it to himself. He wanted this human to tease him, to mock him, to give him attention, to give him affection. He was helpless and wrapped around his little finger now.
“Good boy, Frankie.” That was the final nail in the coffin as Frankie gave in to the dream as he felt the contestant’s lips crash against his. It was a rough kiss and Frankie didn’t hesitate for a second as he wrapped his arms around the man dragging him in further as he shoved his tongue into their mouth as they crashed to the floor. He wasn’t letting them go now. They were his.
Monster Frankie:
Frankie had to admit he didn’t dream particularly often, and if he did then he normally didn’t really recall them the moment he woke up. Just fleeting memories of previous seasons or predictions for future ones. Nothing particularly interesting. That was until he popped up in one for the first time.
The dream had started off as they always did, Frankie barreling after a gaggle of contestants, all of them screaming and trying desperately to escape the rabbit’s clutches. One by one they fell to him. Each torn to pieces more gruesomely than the one before, until only one remained. This one was sat upon a piece of equipment, their head tilted slightly as they observed him. Growling the monster made his way towards them, stalking up to them, getting ready to pounce the moment they made a run for it. But instead they just sat there, watching him, waiting for him. This was unusual to say the least, no one had done this before except…
Realisation dawned on him as his processors finally realised who it was, the figure finally chuckling as if they could read his mind and had been waiting for this moment. Frankie groaned but he couldn’t deny the sudden rush he felt, his favourite play thing was here. Finally getting to their feet the contestant locked eyes with the rabbit before beckoning to him, a teasing look in their eye. Come and get me.
Frankie didn’t need to be told twice, the provocation only getting him more worked up as he let out a sudden roar and barreled towards them. Of course the contestant was off like a bolt, expertly manoeuvring themselves around the obstacles, but Frankie never let them out of his sight. To have prey that didn’t instantly die, cower or just piss themselves was so exhilarating. To finally have something worthy of him, to have someone who was just as invested in the thrill of the hunt, even if they were the one being hunted, was such a refreshing thing that Frankie had found himself almost hoping they were never caught just so he could do it again. And given the way the contestant would taunt him, the excitement in their eyes, the smile he knew was plastered on their face under that mask, he was sure they wanted the same thing.
Of course tho, they couldn’t keep this up forever. One of them was bound to slip up or tire soon enough, it was an inevitability. This time it was the contestant, who stumbled as Frankie launched a surprise swipe at them causing them to crash to the ground in a heap as Frankie pounced on them, their mask being sent scattering to the floor. He easily pinned them down with one hand as they squirmed under him before finally just shrugging and flopping back as they caught their breath. He liked seeing them like this. Out of breath and trapped beneath him. Powerless but accepting of their loss. Of course they typically would lash out, Frankie haven caught a few wild haymakers to the nose and eyes before, but for now they were accepting their defeat graciously. A low rumbling noise escaped him as he leant over them, teeth bared, ready to end this.
That was until the contestant reached out, scratching him behind the ears. Instantly he let out a low purr and flopped down onto their chest. His one weakness. He couldn’t resist the back of his ears being petted and now was no different as he buried his face under their chin, whining for more. This was how things typically played out whenever he caught the little human. He wasn’t allowed to kill them (yet) but he still demanded some sort of reward for being the victor and this was appropriate compensation.
“Okay, okay I’ve got you. Easy now!” He heard them laugh as they moved down to scratch his cheeks, earning another purr. Such a funny little human. He hadn’t met one like that before, well one that had survived long enough for them to prove interesting enough. He felt them push his head off, making his eyes snap open as he let out a low warning growl.
“Oh hush, I just don’t want you crushing me. You’ll still get your reward…” As promised once he was sat up he placed the rabbit’s head in his lap and resumed petting him.
“See, all good. So no more growling at me alright?” Frankie just huffed and rolled his eyes but did settle down, snuggling against his legs.
He wondered if The Other got this type of attention too? He never honestly thought about it too much, given that he mostly just followed their orders to make the show more interesting or to get information on where contestants were. But he knew the contestant and him were close, but given how he saw them interact he was sure the man wouldn’t let that rabbit within touching distance if he could help it. So maybe this type of interaction was reserved only for him. A special thing only for him for being good at his job.
His thoughts were cut off suddenly as he felt the contestant lifting his head so they could face one another. Frankie was about to snap at him again but instead was cut off as the man pushed his lips to his. The rabbit instantly froze before yanking himself away, his fur on end as he just blinked wide eyed at them. That was definitely new. He’d never been kissed before and couldn’t tell if he hated it or liked it. As he was processing what had just occurred he watched as the contestant just smirked before taking off once more.
“Distraction!” Oh that rotten little fucker! Frankie could only snort and grin as he charged after them, choosing to focus on the fleeing little rabbit in front of him rather than the tingling that still played on his lips. He’d process that more when he woke up, if he remembered it.
The following morning:
The 3 Frankies were in the server room, waiting for Lucky to join them. “Real” Frankie seemed the most chipper out of the 3. His grin wider than usual as he eagerly awaited his little money maker's arrival. Meanwhile “Cartoon” Frankie looked exhausted and pissed off, the background of his screen kept glitching, his teeth showing sharp as he chewed on the end of his 3rd cigarette of the morning. “Monster” Frankie on the other hand seemed to be acting like his typical self, keeping himself preoccupied by scribbling on some pages he had found, unaware of the tension that was mounting in the room.
“Where the fuck is that little shit?! How long does he expect to keep us fucking waiting?” The Frankie on the screen was the first to break the silence as he discarded his cigarette only to pull out a fresh one immediately. “Real” Frankie just shot him a look and shook his head, dismissing him.
“It’s only just turned 8. He’s probably just grabbing breakfast and then he’ll be up. You do realise I only asked him to meet us at 8:30 right?” The screen glitched as Frankie growled at the announcer.
“I don’t care, go do your fucking job and get his ass up here before I send him to go drag him up here in pieces!” The rabbit motioned to their companion who now registered them both, eyes flicking between them before raising an eyebrow at his fellow robot, the implication clear.
Leaning back Frankie, regarded the screen properly.
“Are you okay, boss? You seem… ” The Frankie beside him held up a piece of paper, a word scribbled on it. “Frustrated.”
“I am not frustrated! I’m just pissed at being made to wait! Could you two get off my fucking back!” The robot rabbit just looked at one another, something had definitely happened, the toon usually managed to keep his composure a little better than this.
“Is that so? Guess someone just woke up on the wrong side of the bed today…” Bad choice of words as the toon immediately went bright red as they shot the rabbit a death glare.
“Zip. It.” His voice was low, but the shake in it was clear. He was beyond embarrassed after being forced to remember last night. “Monster” Frankie just looked at his digital counterpart with a confused look while his companion just gave them a cruel smile.
“Oh did something happen in dreamland last night, boss~? Want to share it with the group?”
“Eat shit and die you useless hunk of scrap!”
“I’m going to take that as a yes. I’m also going to assume it had something to do with my little contestant~ Having naughty dreams about him are we.” The teasing tone just made Frankie explode, his eyes turning to fire as he began to scream at his counterpart, cursing him out but confirming it was the truth.
“Nothing happened, you waste of metal! As if I would stoop to dreaming about that hunk of meat!”
“Someone’s protesting a little too much, methings. But whatever, we all dream about our little contestant from time to time. I know I do~” The rabbit could only smirk as the cartoon flipped him off. During this time “Monster” Frankie had just watched this all going on silently, really not caring to butt in. That was until The Other’s comment caused something to flicker in his head. Chirping he pointed at himself, catching both the other Frankies’ attention. They both looked confused until the both immediately caught on, yelling at him in unison.
“What the hell do you mean you dreamt about him too?!” It was at this point that the door to the server room suddenly clanged open as Lucky entered, his mask off as he shoved toast into his mouth.
“Sorry I’m late, burnt my hand on the toaster because it ate my brea… um… you guys all right?” He stalled as the three rabbits swivelled to stare him down, each glaring at him. He obviously didn’t know what was going on but he could feel the tension immediately. And knew he was in trouble.
“FRANKIE GET HIM!” Lucky barely had time to yank his mask back down as “Monster” Frankie suddenly bolted for him on his boss’s command. They both careened out the room, the sound of Lucky cursing them all out as the rabbit eagerly bounded after him, crashing into something as they went, leaving just The Other and the digital Frankie in awkward silence. The toon could only bury his face in his hands, steam pouring off him as the robot just regarded him and snickered.
“Bit of an extreme reaction to having a wet dream about someone.”
“Shut up before I order him back up here to get you instead.”
#my writing#finding frankie#real frankie#cartoon frankie#monster frankie#rabbitroyale#shout out to monster he just chillin#gonna be real toons is my fav. honestly just i wrote his the best cos if one did get this it would be him#would i write the whole dream?? maybe if people wanted it
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Alright, I love you - Chris Sturniolo
Pairings - bf!Chris x fem!Reader Summary - Chris stays out longer than expected, making your insecurities come to light. Warnings - established relationship, mentions of cheating, strong language, fluff, angst?? W/c - 994 A/n - I haven't proofread this yet. Just something I put together while I was at work today lol. I was finally able to get into my inbox last night but I only see one of them so if you sent a request in, please resend it 🥲 Masterlist Most Recent - Positive Top Liked - Pierced II Current Series - City of Love II
“Hello,” Chris’s voice is raspier than normal. It was pushing midnight, and he had been out since dinner. Normally, you wouldn’t care too much but he just got back in town a couple days ago, after being away for a week, and it was late. You missed your boyfriend and the fact that he prioritized his friends over quality time with you made your blood boil. You were livid.
“Where the fuck are you?” you seethe into the phone, trying to focus on the background noise. Faint music played, but there were no signs of a female presence, only masculine voices to be heard. “I’m at the guys house,” he speaks louder into the phone. His response earns a scoff from you, “yea right Chris. I’m fucking stupid.” You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, running a hand through your hair, “you’ve only been in town for a couple days. I swear to God if you’re with a bitch-”
“There’s not any bitches here. I’m playing the game with the guys, chill.” It’s obvious that Chris was trying to keep his tone cool, calm, and collected. He had a hard time balancing this social life and his relationship, oftentimes picking his boys over quality with you. Chris moved you into his house a few months prior, in hopes it’d help your relationship. He wasn’t wrong, it helped a tremendous amount, but you were just a girl, and you had your insecurities, as did he. You reject his excuses, repeating yourself, “you literally just got back in town two days ago.”
“And I've spent the last two days with you, babe. Just hanging out for a little,” he coaxes you. Chris had a way with words when it came to you, he always knew what to say and when to say it. You knew by the end of the night the argument would be resolved, and you’d more than likely be naked in bed with him. When you don’t say anything, Chris speaks up, “I promise.”
His reasoning puts you at ease, you sigh into the phone and just as you’re about to speak you hear, “hey baby. Want some time with me?” It was plain and clear it was a woman's voice. You squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to believe your worst fears were coming true again. You were fuming at this point, “yea, who the fuck is that? I swear to God-,” you rage but get interrupted by your boyfriend. “It's not a bitch!” he defends himself quickly, “Nate’s on GTA, it’s a fucking prostitute he honked at,” a bit of annoyance laced through his words. Not wanting to argue, Chris takes a deep breath, “you’re funny for that one, though,” letting out a dry chuckle.
“You think it’s funny? I’m not fucking playing with you, Chris. Let me find out you have a bitch with you,” you snap at him, your voice getting the louder with each word. Infidelity was something your relationship has faced once before. From Chris’s end, of course. So, you had your insecurities when it came to not knowing his whereabouts or what the hell he was doing. Last he told you; he was going to meet them for a late dinner with his brothers and Nate.
“Y/n, there’s not any bitches here,” he assures, but you can tell he’s clearly frustrated with you. Not giving a fuck about how frustrated he was, “let me find out you’re lying to me.”
Chris gives in and lets out a breathy sigh, “I’m not, babe. I love you.”
“If you loved me, you’d be at home with me at fucking midnight, Chris!” You refused to hold back this time, blinking back angry tears, and sucking a sharp breath, “if roles were reversed, you’d be breaking up with me right now!” The line goes quiet for a second for a few seconds, making you pull your phone from your ear to see if he ended the call or not. Seeing he’s still on the call, you hold it back up to your ear, “I’m leaving soon, alright? I love you.”
“Whatever, Chris. I’m tired of you constantly lying. I’m not stupid and I know exactly what you’re doing,” you spit back at him, not letting up on your delusional thoughts. Technically, it wasn't a delusion at all. Chris had cheated on you before, and times like this showed the biggest weak spots in your relationship - your insecurities, the insecurities that he planted. Even though you had never cheated on him, you know he’d be flipping his shit if he was in your position, and he knew it too.
“Alright, I love you,” he voice becomes more relaxed like he’d getting some type of pleasure out of hearing you all worked up. “Fuck you,” you tell him, this time letting a few tears slip before hanging up the call. To no avail, the word ‘hubby 🥰’ pops up on your screen a few seconds later, this time for a facetime call. Quickly dragging a hand across your cheek to collect any leftover tears, you press the answer button.
Chris’s face stretches across the screen, eyebrows knitted together, and his lip pressed into a thin line. “I said I love you like a million times, did you not hear me?” he teases at his way of enlightening the mood but when he sees you hard facial expression not budging, he flips the camera around, showing his brothers and Nate. “Say hi to my crazy girlfriend guys,” making them all look up at the camera in unison. “Hey girl,” Nick stretches out, making the room erupt in laughter. Chris switches the camera back to him, “we’re gonna leave in a few. I love you, okay?”
“I love you too,” you sigh. You couldn’t help but feel relaxed now that he showed you who all was there with him, but you couldn’t help but think a bitch was hiding under the bed.
🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @unknvhx @m11rx @ribread03 @thepubeburgler
If anyone else wants added on my tag list, just let me know!!❤️
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris x reader#frat boy chris#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo imagine#matt x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#fratboy!chris#bsf!chris sturniolo#bf!chris
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Unhinged theory
The Passion of Sanemi Shinazugawa
Sanemi has no chill.
We all been knew this. His chill is one of the things that the fandom has accepted canonically doesn't exist, like Inosuke's uniform shirt or Zenitsu's dating standards, but the reason for his lack of chill and generally aggressive behavior is still a much debated topic to this day.
I have made two posts here and here breaking down his backstory, his trauma and socio-economical circumstances that made him the man he is today but, I still wasn't satisfied. Something nagged me about this character and his personality that I couldn't put my finger on. So I pondered, for days going through each episode, rereading the manga taking note of his actions and interactions with other characters.
Then, it finally hit me.
Ladies and gentlemen, I believe I've found the answer.
Sanemi, our sweet boy, is SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED.
Let me explain.
butt first...
What is sexual frustration?
According to Medical News Today,
Sexual frustration describes a state of irritation, agitation, or stress resulting from sexual inactivity or dissatisfaction. Sexual frustration is a common, natural feeling, and it can affect anyone.
Some symptoms include:
Feeling irritable, restless, and edgy (so Sanemi's entire personality?)
Engaging in unhealthy coping skills (like wanting to brawl with another man for no reason and after having a sexually-charged training session 🤨)
Performing riskier behaviors to fulfill sexual desires (like exposing your entire chest and leaving it vulnerable just so you can show off your tits like a slut 🤨🤨).
Compulsive or hypersexual behaviors (like wanting to grab another man by the hair just so he won't go away 🤨🤨🤨)
Depression or anxiety for men (see this post)
“Seeking revenge” against targets that are the believed source of the frustration (basically Sanemi vs Giyuu)
Displaced frustration on targets with no connection to the frustration (Sanemi vs Tanjiro vs Junior Slayers)
How did this cum to be?
Okay so, I have this headcanon that the Shinazugawa men have a high sex drive. I mean, there's the seven kids from Kyogo which means he had to be laying pipe...a lot(F's in the chat for Shizu 😔) and Genya's horniness when he breathes the same air as a girl, so it's safe to say that Sanemi also has a high sex drive.
After the tragedy that struck his family (Shizu killing the kids, not Kyogo's death because fuck that guy), Sanemi lost any hope or chance of a normal life. In the light novel Sign post of the Wind, Sanemi tells Masachika that life isn't for fun, and he has expressed his distaste for 'frivolous' things.
He denies himself these things because he believes he doesn't deserve them, why should he enjoy life when he killed his mom, when he couldn't protect his siblings, when his brother rightfully hates him, when demons still exist, when families are still being ripped apart, when his colleagues and juniors are being killed and when Genya is in constant danger. The only thing he allows himself is ohagi which is a reminder of happier times.
He has no time for friends, for love and definitely not for sex, which by extension includes masturbation. He won't be able to jerk off without seeing the faces of his mom and his siblings -and yes, that sentence was just as awkward for me writing it as you reading it- so he resigned himself to a life of solitude and sexual frustration, which caused him to develop his aggressive and no-chill personality but at least he was able to manage for a while, that was until he met Giyuu.
Cum hither Giyuu
Sanemi's no-nut journey became even more unbearable when he met Giyuu. There was just something about that sappy, derpy, stupid face that stole his heart and even though Giyuu's personality should've made it easy to stay away, the power of love and horny didn't allow that to happen.
Like I mentioned before in a previous post, what followed was a series of sexually-tense situations and interactions between the two Hashiras, so every time Giyuu happened to enter Sanemi's field of vision, I guess you could say more or less he was:
Reaching out for help
In the light of their impending doom with Muzan's arrival, Sanemi has a realization; he's obviously going to die soon, that doesn't scare Sanemi, he's accepted the fact that he's going to die anyway but to die as a virgin? Now that's not good. With the failure of trying to reach out to Giyuu in the Hashira meeting and the disaster that was the attempted eye-poking incident and being shamed by a 16-year-old Sanemi decides 'fuck it' and tries to reach out to Giyuu again.
But he can't go crawling to Giyuu and be like 'please fuck me', no no no that would not do instead he has the brilliant idea to challenge Giyuu to combat under the guise of 'training' in some misguided hope that the spar would get both their temperatures up which would in turn get Giyuu horny enough to rip off his clothes and fuck him. Yay! The plan is foolproof!
I already mentioned in this post how Sanemi's suggestion for a brawl made no sense as he could have just taken the Muichiro route and suggested they use their actual katanas, but no he wanted a full body contact brawl. Like look at how excited he was at the concept of brawling with Giyuu, like no wonder Tanjiro was scared for Giyuu!
JUST LOOK AT THIS FACE!!! LOOK AT THE DESPERATION!!! OUR BOY IS SO PENT UP HE'S ON THE VERGE OF INSANITY!!!
THIS IS THE FACE OF A MAN WHO HASN'T NUTTED IN 21 YEARS! He was literally begging BEGGING Giyuu to touch him! 😭
Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤️) was rightfully afraid for his big bro, so he intercepts (read cock blocks) Sanemi! Imagine how he felt at that moment; he was THIS close to some body contact and then comes in the same child who kills his rep at every turn! Not only that, but Tanjiro clocks in Sanemi's intentions and decided to put a stop to it by hitting him where he hurts; ohagi.
Imagine your biggest social opp coming along with his innocent, stupidly sweet face when you've finally decided to open yourself up to fucking your forever crush and killing whatever and all sexual tension with his annoying innocence!
Then, as if on a mission to destroy your spirit, reveals your secret love of ohagi! A sweet typically enjoyed by children! Right in front of his future baby daddy!
Tanjiro then drives the knife even further by asking him his ohagi preferences, talking about how his grandma used to make ohagi and shit!
LIKE BOYYYYYYYY
That explains why he was so salty even hours later. If I were him, I'd be pissed too! The fuck! I love how he stopped walking on the steps just to cuss Tanjiro out, like you can tell it came from the very depths of his soul.
I mean, you can literally hear the pain and frustration in his voice. That is the cry of a man who spent three hours douching, only to have his Grindr date cancel on him.
Celebrating the big O
After the events of the final showdown we see a more relaxed, almost peaceful Sanemi which tells us one thing - our boy finally got laid!
But when? and with whom?
Well Giyuu, duh. I theorize that it happened sometime during the three months of recuperation before Tanjiro woke up, and they had their last Hashira meeting. I mean, look at how they're smiling at each other, you can't tell me these guys didn't fuck at least once.
Sanemi came(lol) out(lol again!) of the encounter a changed man. He's moisturized, demure, in his lane, thriving.
Look at him here; tits covered 'cuz Giyuu has made an honest man out of him, and that peaceful look? Damn, dick was so good blud had to look up to the heavens like
In Conclusion, Sanemi's character development is really inspirational because it's a story of one man's triumph over thirst and yea I don't know how to end this post, so I'll just leave you with some words of wisdom:
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#sanemi shinazugawa#giyuu tomioka#sanemi x giyuu#giyuusane#kny sanemi#giyuu x sanemi#sanegiyuu#kny giyuu#unhinged theory#tanjirou kamado#might make edits later#shinazugawa sanemi#just unhinged#kny meta#kny anime#demon slayer anime
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OMG EXACTLY!!
Honestly, I can see them just being really confused. You love them so much, and yet you hate them at the same time??
They always love listening to you talk, you could be reading an instruction manual and they’d be sitting in the cave just cheering.
Ugh i just love the idea of them all getting cozy, all sitting around in the living room (not the one you have bugged), putting the feed on the tv, and getting ready to enjoy a night of watching you. There’s snacks, someone made some popcorn, Bruce is nursing some wine, it’s like an entire thing.
And there you are, just puttering around your apartment, mumbling under your breath as you make yourself dinner. You eventually put on some gossipy talk show, which spends almost all of its runtime discussing the Waynes.
They’re watching you watch daytime tv. I just think that’s funny.
And you’re like booing everytime the hosts say anything negative about the Waynes, smiling brightly everytime they talk about Dick’s recent free gymnastics lessons for people who couldn’t afford the normal cost, Bruce’s recent charity fundraiser, etc.
Finally, the show starts talking about the bats, and you just lose your cool. You’re like grumbling and pouting and it’s so cute to them, but they’re also conflicted because you’re being so mean-
You’re like cursing the day batman was born, yelling about how much you hate Nightwing, how he can’t compare to Dick and he’s just a stupid copycat, how much Red Hood irritates you, pretending to be good for the neighborhood, not like Jason who reads to kids at the library-
You’re just ripping their alter egos to shreds.
I can see them trying really hard to ingratiate themselves with you.
You’re in Jason’s safehouse’s neighborhood cuz you know he takes walks around there, and oh wow what a coincidence! Red hood’s here to save you from a (totally not pre-planned) mugging!
You’re on a roof across from Damian’s school, making sure he isn’t getting bullied, and oh, look! It’s Red Robin with some delicious coffee for you to drink, he won’t even ask you what you’re doing!
Even Batman offers to walk you home one night on your way back from following Dick on his run. Well, he kinda grunts and waves his hand, but you get the gist. Each time you’re cursing them out, spitting all over the place, just so fucking mad. How dare they try to imitate your beloved Waynes? You see right through them, they could never come close to the bravery and kindness of Gotham’s favorite family!
Eventually, you get more bold. And you’re like following them more, watching them more, trying to arrange little coincidental meetings like “Oh! I’m So Sorry I Spilled My Coffee All Over Your Nice Shirt!” And they’re like :) “it’s okay (please marry me)”.
However, you start hearing some problems they’ve been having. Damian’s getting bullied at school, for example. He’s in the bugged living room talking to Dick and he’s all like
“Grayson. It is not a problem. I can handle it.” In that overly formal manner, crossing his arms and pouting.
And you’re ENRAGED. WHO IS HURTING THE BABY?!
So you try to beat up his bullies. You’re only a street away when the Red Hood finds you and catches you by the forearm. He takes your baseball bat from you when you try to swing it at him. And you just. You hate him so much, you curse him out and leave.
Oh, a teacher is calling Tim lazy? You try to poison her coffee, but Batman catches you buying the poison and makes you give it to him. You try to kick him in the kneecaps and fall over. This does not endear him to you, but he’s just internally cooing.
Wow, one of Dick’s colleagues is being racist? You’re ready to end their career preemptively, but Red Robin hacks your laptop and tells you to calm down.
Jason keeps getting asked invasive questions and you’ve already got the crowbar out, but oh look, Nightwing confiscates it.
Just stuff like that.
They’re watching you positively FUME over getting thwarted, and you’re practically becoming a supervillain, just incandescent with rage, and they’re just like “So cute! Look at her trying to hack her way into Gotham Academy, aweeee”
It keeps escalating until eventually they can’t take it anymore, you’re starting to have like a mental breakdown.
But when you get kidnapped, they wake you up and bring you down to the cave and they’re like “Surprise! It was us all along! Now you don’t have to hate us!”
And you just. Scream. Cuz now you have to kill every villain in Gotham, and you honestly don’t have the time, you need to get started on bugging the manor and going through their clothes, and hugging their pillows.
It’s cute how you think they’ll let you leave :)
yandere reader x yandere batfam
SUMMARY: yandere batfam x yandere reader
WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.
MASTERLIST
Requests are open!
Just thinking of a yandere darling. You’re a little intense, maybe just on the creepy side of protective.
But you’re not very good at it 🙁
You’re stalking them, they’re stalking you as you stalk them, it’s a whole thing.
They honestly might be relieved. They know where you are at all times, they’ve long ago put a tracker on you, but having you always hovering around eases their worries.
Tim definitely hacks the bugs you’ve put on them, making sure you aren’t accidentally catching on to the fact they’re night-time vigilantes.
Overall, though, I can see them LOVING the trackers you try to place on them. You’re so clumsy about it anyone would notice, but they pretend not to, just so your self-esteem doesn’t get hurt.
It’s like a kitten trying to fight a tiger; the tiger’s playing, the kitten is unaware of how bad their odds are.
There’s no way you’d be able to break into the manor by yourself.
They see it as enrichment, they just… leave a single window open, on the ground floor, into a rarely used family room.
Once they catch you planting the bugs all over the room, not even bothering to make your way throughout the rest of the manor, they’ll spend more time in the room, playing up their personas.
Bruce is especially amused; he’s really playing up the ditzy Brucie persona around you, entirely so that he can get close to you without you suspecting he’s onto you.
You’re really protective over him; there’s been times you’ve been gearing up to fight some creep at a gala who won’t leave poor ol’ Brucie alone.
He doesn’t need your help, he’s working on a case, but he appreciates it nonetheless.
It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy, knowing you’re there. Even if there’s no way you’d actually be able to deal with the types of enemies he has.
You’re like pulling him off to the side, holding his hands in yours and staring at him so determinedly, eyes blazing. “Bruce, don’t be scared to tell me if someone’s bugging you, okay? I’ll handle it.” You tell him. Internally, Bruce is cooing. When he tells the others about it later, in the privacy of the cave, they’ll do the same.
You just think he’s too soft for this world. He needs protection! He thought Mexico was a continent!
He’ll definitely pretend to be super drunk just as an excuse to lean on you, his side pressed to yours and an arm slung around your neck. He loves the way he can feel the heat of your blush.
Dick is much the same way. You’ve signed up for his gymnastics class and you’re so determined to succeed at something he loves that he just can’t help but prioritize you. Some of the other students even complain about how obvious the favoritism is. Don’t be surprised if you miraculously win free 1-on-1 lessons with him. He just loves being able to physically touch and guide you, watching how flustered you get.
Sometimes you slip in a bit of information he knows isn’t really available to the general public, just little things about his time in the circus. It makes him happy to know how much time you’ve spent researching him, even if it is pretty baseline stuff, nothing too deep. He’s just appreciating your hard work!
Jason, you have a hard time with. He doesn’t appear in public often, so you spend most of your time just watching him read in the family room. He knows you’re reading the stuff he picks out, so he deliberately chooses books he thinks you’d like.
When it comes to Tim, he’s definitely matching your freak. You get a tracker on him, he has 3 on you. He’s discreetly watching you watch him.
Puts on a show, makes himself seem like any naive rich kid. You’ll never see the true predator until it’s too late.
Definitely fiddles with the trackers in his spare time, he loves being reminded of how much you love him; it plays right into those deep seated insecurities left over from his biological parents.
Damian is definitely the least subtle about it. He’s not gonna pretend to be something he isn’t, and he definitely wants you to step up your game. He’ll smash the trackers until you manage to get it into a satisfactory spot.
He will absolutely refuse to spend much time in the family room; he sees it as too easy. He wants you to work to learn more about him. His past is definitely one of the harder ones to dig up.
Cass can read the desperation on you, and just befriends you. She doesn’t really put up much of an act, and just satisfies your protective instincts by listening to your ‘suggestions’ about how awful her ‘friends’ are. They’re acquaintances at best, so you aren’t really accomplishing much of anything, but she feels it’s the thought that counts.
Just imagine when you’re finally kidnapped, and they’re like Surprise! We knew the whole time!
OH MY GOD THE HUMILIATION
They’re completely different than how you thought they were, and you slowly realize you’ve made a big fucking mistake, but oh well, it’s their turn now!
#yandere batfam#answer#lethwrites#yandere bruce wayne#yandere tim drake#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere damian wayne
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