#you Can do that sure! who am i to stop you

[astonmartinii]

wherever the roots may lead you | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x antonelli!reader

when one takes an ancestry test they don’t usually expect to find out that their half brother is now racing in formula one…

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by yourbff, user1 and 1,578 others

yourusername: the whole office decided to do an ancestry test - WHY IS MY HALF BROTHER KIMI ANTONELLI???

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user1: girl i follow you for your pasta recipes why am i expected to know who this man is

user2: he’s a formula one driver?

user3: he’s A BABY

user4: the way this did not answer a single question

yourbff: bro you’re italian, there’s probably hundreds of kimi antonellis

yourusername: no one asked you to be logical about this

yourbff: let’s just not claim a random 18-year-old without verifying it

yourusername: well in the short five minutes i’ve known of his existence i have googled him and all the dates line up

youbff: not to support this delusion but you two do look freakishly similar

user5: i fear my kimi stanship has led me to dark places

user6: for real why is this girl yapping

user7: idk how i got here but they do look like they could be related …

user8: if they are it’s still probably not the weirdest thing to happen in f1 this week

user9: someone needs to study the sport and as to why it’s so fucking weird

olliebearman: who are you and why have you stolen kimi’s face

yourusername: excuse me?

olliebearman: you are excused

yourusername: what?

olliebearman: you are claiming to be related to kimi but i happen to know everything ever about him sooooooooo where have you been all this time?

yourusername: well i kind of just found out about this so i don’t have an answer for you right now?

olliebearman: i’ve got my eye on you weirdo

yourusername: okay?

kimiantonelli: wait!!! ollie how did you even find this post it’s got like 2k likes?

yourusername: omg read?

olliebearman: well it just came up on my explore page?

yourusername: no the fuck it didn’t

olliebearman: EXCUSE ME MISS, KEEP YOUR BEAK OUT OF BEARNELLI BUSINESS

yourusername: you’re doing your business in my comment section?

user10: i swear these fools are meant to be at media day

user11: nothing stops for bearnelli chaos clearly

estebanocon: @olliebearman yo? we were meant to be filming like 20 minutes ago?

olliebearman: oh? i was busy

yourusername: busy getting on my nerves

olliebearman: WHO ARE YOU?

yourusername: you’re on MY INSTAGRAM PAGE

olliebearman: i am a child WATCH HOW YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT A CHILD

olliebearman: @charles_leclerc dad stop her now

charles_leclerc: why are you pinging me during the press conference

olliebearman: this is important !!!!

charles_leclerc: @yourusername oh hi

yourusername: hello ???

kimiantonelli

liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc and 590,300 others

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kimiantonelli: i thought getting points on my debut would be the craziest part of my week but turns out i have a half sister i never knew about ??? watch your back paddock i don’t think you can handle TWO antonellis

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user12: wait so that trainwreck the other day was REAL?

user13: smile and wave girl i have no clue what’s going on

user14: we need a weekly episode of drive to survive at this point omg

yourusername: we haven’t even met yet

yourusername: i am very excited to

kimiantonelli: OF COURSE WE SHOULD BE EXCITED

kimiantonelli: i knew you were out there i could feel you in my waters

yourusername: i’m not sure you have waters? like anatomically?

kimiantonelli: well i knew you existed before your post so explain that atheist

yourusername: i’m just going to let you have this one i think…

kimiantonelli: that is VERY wise

user15: i am losing my mind over the fact that these kids are talking for the first time in instagram comments

user16: i honestly wouldn’t expect anything less from this crop of rookies

jackdoohan: please do not lump me in with this nonsense

kimiantonelli: so our family love is nonsense to you

yourusername: jack!!!! after everything …. i can’t believe this!

jackdoohan: we’ve never spoken before?

yourusername: well in my familial research i watched the rookie round table and you ranked highly to me… but i see

jackdoohan: wOAH PAUSE

jackdoohan: my apologies

kimiantonelli: they all come crawling back …

user17: what is actually happening?

user18: so like has anyone stalked this girl? who even is she?

olliebearman: y/n y/ln is a 26-year-old marketing manager who lives in london. she runs a pasta-themed instagram account to apparently page homage to her ‘italian heritage’. she has no kids and no boyfriend or girlfriend. by most accounts she doesn’t have many friends or hobbies or money?

kimiantonelli: that’s like… kinda hot?

yourusername: you do you i guess

yourusername: also like that’s such a rude write up on me ???

olliebearman: so you don’t think i’m hot

kimiantonelli: that’s SO rude y/n

yourusername: you’re EIGHTEEN??? and also have this weird tension with my brother… idk i’m not a therapist?

olliebearman: i’ll call my dad again

yourusername: oh the one from the other post? please! i think he’s the best thing i found on my f1 stalkfest

charles_leclerc: well well well, i’m charles

olliebearman: NO?

kimiantonelli: ollie you gotta let her have something!

olliebearman: but if she falls for his dorky charms that might make us incestuous ???

kimiantonelli: i don’t know what that word means

olliebearman: my dad, dating your sister?

kimiantonelli: @charles_leclerc you have to disown ollie now

charles_leclerc: okay, if i do that does that mean i can take y/n on a date

yourusername: DO IT NOW PLEASE

yourusername: woah! i mean, i’ll have to check my calendar

yourbff: she’s free, the lanky one was right, she doesn’t have many friends.

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, kimiantonelli and 1,209,457 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: lost a son and won a date. congrats on the promotion oscar!

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user19: we are moving so fucking fast

user20: well it’s on theme…

user21: well we need to go from rb19 to that fucking aston martin

yourusername: as far as first dates go … well i didn’t think we’d be babysitting a 23-year-old

charles_leclerc: he’s fragile right now

yourusername: and he needed his emotional support not-boyfriend there as well?

yourusername: and that emotional support not-boyfriend needed to bring his friend who brought his maybe-boyfriend who brought his ‘surrogate brother’ which is MY BROTHER?

charles_leclerc: i’m sorry?

yourusername: i’m starting to think attachment issues and homosexual tension is just part of the job description to work in formula one

alexalbon: i don’t think you’re wrong on that

charles_leclerc: honestly i did plan for just a romantic dinner but things came up!

oscarpiastri: well i’m kind of sorry for crashing your date but as previously stated i was in a crisis…

yourusername: you did cry… but i thought that was just to get charles to get you dessert?

oscarpiastri: you can’t prove that…

oscarpiastri: ALSO why are you just coming for me when the others crashed and without a good reason like me?

yourusername: true ….

landonorris: i was taken by oscar !!!!! not my fault

yourusername: you made me move from my seat across from charles because you didn’t ‘like the lighting’?

landonorris: well that was very kind of you

charles_leclerc: you basically sat on her until she moved

landonorris: well maybe you should have stood up for your date!

georgerussell63: considering how badly lando is digging his grave, i’ll just say sorry and that i wasn’t completely aware it was a date

yourusername: how was it not very obvious? we were at a CANDLE LIT DINNER WITH A TWO PERSON TABLE YOU DRAGGED OVER A TABLE TO SIT WITH US

alexalbon: in our defence we were only going to escort kimi there but the curiosity got too much…

yourusername: are you just attaching to kimi because i’m not going to get annoyed at him

alexalbon: …….. um no?

kimiantonelli: y/n he brought me dessert and a funky little drink - MARRY HIM

yourusername: that’s a little fast buddy

charles_leclerc: so you wouldn’t marry me?

yourusername: take me on another date, just me, and we’ll see

user22: she’s stronger than me i would’ve proposed right here right now

user23: nothing more 2025 than an instagram comment proposal

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, olliebearman and 23,091 others

tagged: kimiantonelli & charles_leclerc

yourusername: so who was going to tell me this f1 shit was this crazy?

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user24: actually thinking about it, this girl must be having such intense emotional whiplash

user25: legit because what do you mean like last week she didn’t know what f1 was but now she’s related to the best rated rookie and dating (?) charles leclerc

user26: when will these situations happen upon me

charles_leclerc: did i win you over this weekend?

yourusername: maybe?

charles_leclerc: maybe?

yourusername: okay, yeah

yourusername: but you could’ve let kimi through :/

charles_leclerc: that’s kinda not the game of the game

yourusername: but he’s my brother ?

charles_leclerc: you make a compelling point…

charles_leclerc: but, amor, i wouldn’t let my own brother overtake me

yourusername: i see…

yourusername: it was worth a try sorry kimi

kimiantonelli: fear not we can try again when he’s more in love with you

yourusername: for everyone’s information: i do genuinely like charles, this ^^ is a joke !!!!!!! i understand the sanctity of formula one and that no one would genuinely let another through based on such a situation

kimiantonelli: okay miss PR AND MARKETING

yourusername: oh buddy you should see my DMs, that was necessary

charles_leclerc: what ???

yourusername: babe your fans are great but like a good 5% of them are like genuinely insane, like 51/50 level

charles_leclerc: oh yeah… i’m sorry

yourusername: oh no worries i’d be just that crazy for you

charles_leclerc: you aren’t?

yourusername: i don’t need to be, i have you don’t i?

charles_leclerc: oh hehehehhehehehe, you do

user27: WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN

user28: i’m scared of her, but i need to be her

user29: you can’t be that good at making pasta and have rizz and date charles leclerc

user30: i fear y/n might actually be sniped, she’s a triple threat

oscarpiastri: do you see why i needed emotional support?

yourusername: well yes i get that now

yourusername: but please refrain from crashing dates in the future unless you have let us know promptly

oscarpiastri: i knew i’d get you on side, the leclerc family love me

oscarpiastri: @kimiantonelli watch out, i might overtake you next

kimiantonelli: i will slash your tyres, y/n will bail me out

yourusername: will i?

kimiantonelli: so you don’t love me?

olliebearman: I TOLD YOU SHE WAS NO GOOD

yourusername: first of all, ollie - i thought i’d managed to get you on side with my offering of pasta. second, i love you the most on the grid kimi, i just do not have the disposable cash of a formula one driver

kimiantonelli: fine, you make a point

kimiantonelli: @charles_leclerc looks like it’s down to you now.

kimiantonelli: and you’d do anything for my sister, right?

charles_leclerc: ugh why are the rookies so crafty these days

yourusername: hmmmm?

charles_leclerc: YES I WOULD, FOR YOU

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, kimiantonelli and 1,894,500 others

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charles_leclerc: follow wherever the roots may take you, because sometimes it might lead you to the best thing ever

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user31: i mean meeting your girlfriend through her doing an ancestry test to find out she’s related to your coworker is one hell of a meet cute i’ll give them that

user32: ‘wherever the roots may take you’ okay mr leclerc when did we become a poet

user33: let’s add it to the words of wisdom

user34: the ferrari garage WISHES they could be him

kimiantonelli: well, i am pleasantly surprised with how this all unfolded, you’re definitely the best choice on the grid

yourusername: awwwww kimi thanks !!!

charles_leclerc: thanks?

olliebearman: CHARLES IS THE BEST CHOICE ON THE GRID ????

kimiantonelli: you want to date my sister? i thought you liked another antonelli?

olliebearman: oh!

olliebearman: yes!

olliebearman: … another antonelli for sure

charles_leclerc: @yourusername do i say anything

yourusername: no i want to watch ollie suffer after he’s done nothing but come for me

charles_leclerc: okay, amor

user35: this is how all men should be

user36: AGREE WITH EVERYTHING I SAY

user37: so like… where do we find them because i fear there’s only two ferrari drivers and many of us

yourusername: well i am certainly glad i followed mine

charles_leclerc: led you right to me

yourusername: wouldn’t want to be anywhere else

charles_leclerc: hehehehehehe i guess i have that effect on people

yourusername: PEOPLE?

charles_leclerc: just you xxxxx

yourusername: that’s what i thought

charles_leclerc: speaking of you… when can you come to another race?

yourusername: i’m very sorry to say babe but i do have a job

charles_leclerc: NOOOOOOOOOOO

yourusername: i know :( i don’t dream of labour

charles_leclerc: what do you dream of?

yourusername: there’s this really sexy monegasque formula one driver who has an amazing accent and the cutest little dog. he’s super determined and sounds even sexier when he’s angry on the radio or celebrating a win. you might know him?

charles_leclerc: i might…

yourusername: well you should BACK OFF because he’s MINE

charles_leclerc: yes, yes he is

user38: so like … how do we get her on drive to survive

yourusername: oh you know netflix have been calling my phone

user39: LETS GOOOOOOO

yourusername: don’t celebrate too soon, because you won’t like me when i delete all the cute footage of charles, that’s for my eyes only

user40: i would want you dead, but also real

lewishamilton: ummmmm so when can you come back @yourusername he’s being pathetic again

yourusername: he’s always pathetic that’s what i love about him

lewishamilton: but it’s particularly bad now, he’s carrying a picture of you and leo (it’s VERY badly photoshopped)

charles_leclerc: hey! joris was busy i had to make it myself

yourusername: that’s cute bby don’t listen to him

charles_leclerc: yeah leave me alone lewis

lewishamilton: what the hell, sure

fin.

note: if you couldn't tell i'm a big kimi stan LMAO

[sularis]

God, what have I gotten myself into.

I have never run this fast. Even back when I was on my school's running team, I've never been able to reach this speed. Maybe then I was too young, or maybe now I have somehow more energy? Doesn't matter. That's not something I should be thinking about in the face of death.

Since leaving my old job, I've been getting stalked. I don't know by who, but I have my suspicion. They have enough power to have me whipped off the face of this earth, but instead they resort to terrorising every facet of my existence. I think I realise now that if they will kill me in that way, it won't be questioned. I gave them my medical report. They know about my heart condition. And now, they know how to use it to their advantage.

I'm a whistleblower for one of the largest food companies in the whole country. Soon, though, I might be found dead in a ditch. Or not found at all.

As I'm running with all I have, I hear the voice of my roommate; it rings clearly in my mind: "A walk won't do you any harm and the fresh air may cool your nerves." Now I wonder if she was in on this whole thing as well. Everything that she has said to me returns in an instant, I think I could easily pinpoint the day she could've received an offer to off me. Should've trusted my gut. Should've known that no one will be on my side when the other is offering them money for my life.

I got out of my apartment complex while it was still quite bright outside. The sun was slowly going down, but I believed that if I returned home before it got dark, nothing too bad would happen. Nobody could attack me, because someone could see me, right?

I don't know how long I ran, but I know I ended up outside my city somehow. That sure is some distance. The place I was in now was full of trees and only a singular road was crossing this forest. It was very dark already and I suspect that the person who was after me now is in the car that sped towards me a moment ago.

It didn't take me long to realise I was being followed; it took me longer to finally think I lost whoever was after me. Until he leaped at me from a side alley and almost stabbed my chest. I'm so grateful that out of all the responses, I got the "flight" instead of "freeze". Never would I suspect that the moment I started running would prolong for this amount of time and distance. He started running after me, but disappeared soon after, only to reappear somewhere else, where I didn't expect it. It could've been more than one person, but in my panic I couldn't see clearly.

They never stopped pursuing me. And I never stopped running.

Even now, as the terrain gets more unpredictable and I can't tell a tree from a person and any sound is ten times louder, I don't stop running. I don't and I can't. Because if I stop, I won't live to see the next day.

I don't know if anyone is behind me, I don't see any lights, nor do I hear any steps. Maybe I could hide somewhere? Only now I start feeling the exhaustion, but I can't stop, no. I can't let me be killed like that. Not tonight. Not ever.

The moon has come up. Lucky me, I can see what's before me. The trees are much clearer and I can avoid them easier. I can search for places to hide. I might survive and not collapse.

Unlucky me. The moon is out. I am seen in it too.

There's a small clearing in front of me, and a watch tower in the middle of it. I could run ad hide there. I shake that thought off immediately. I will be seen, so easy to spot. Need somewhere else. I am so, so tired.

My legs start to shake as I slow down. Please not now. All of the trees are thin, the bushes won't hide me if they have torches. I don't see lights behind me, though. I'm barely walking, everything hurts. Suddenly, a large tree trunk, I can see it close to me. There seems to be an opening there. I need to get inside but I can hardly move. I must've sprained an ankle because it hurts to walk so bad.

I'm about to reach it, and safety, when I hear something. The leaves are rustling. It isn't windy. Whether it was an animal or not, I'm not risking it. I start running again, through the pain, through the tears streaming down my eyes. I'm once again reaching speed I never thought I could reach. Like a deer I traverse the forest that I never was in before. I don't let my imagination let any more creeps scare me, I've enough of them trailing me and then--

I fall. Face first into the forest floor. The ankle, that I thought was sprained, hurts so much more right now. The pain is so horrid that it doesn't register at first fully. I'm disoriented, but the pain is clear and it's sharp and oozing. Warm and cold. Do I even have my foot still?

Finally, I reach down to see what's going on. I feel cold metal on my fingertips and some liquid on it. Oh, it's so clear now. A bear trap. That's how I die.

I try to move my leg, but the trap is chained to a tree nearby. Breaking free would be nearly impossible in this condition. I'm so tired, I lay on the ground battling sleep when I hear rustling again. I can't move, this is my death. With all my might I crawl and cling to the tree that will accompany me in the last moments I'm alive. I will die here, either of blood loss or whatever the man chasing me will do with me.

I'm struggling to do anything. Breathe. Look before me. Not sleep. It all feels like an impossible task. May the death come sooner? I'm starting to get cold.

Hugging the tree, I feel something in my jacket. Right, my phone. And wallet for whatever reason. I wanted to buy myself a drink before I returned from my walk, but currently, it feels silly to have it with me in my last moments.

My phone is useless here too. Nobody, who once cared about me, does any more. Family is long gone, further relatives got paid to forget me. So did my friends. Roommate. Before police would find me here I'd already be decaying. I'm doomed, and nobody sees it as a loss.

Suddenly, a thought flashes through my brain. Many of them, honestly, the life I led is playing for me and somehow it feels like a short film. One of the memories is important. A girl at the bar, piece of paper, numbers...

Wallet. Oh, how I beg it is still there.

I search through every pocket in my wallet as the memory plays on. "Here you go" she said "Use it whenever you like. Whatever you'll need will be answered if you call it." I thought she was flirting. "Don't take it for granted, girl. It might save your life one day."

I found it. The numbers are as clear as day. I check around, looking for movement. Nothing. I check my phone. It's half way charged. I thank God silently as I put the number in and hit the call button. I put it to the ear closer to the tree, I need the other one to hear threats approaching.

Calling....

There's signal!

One....

Two....

Three....

Pick up. Pick up whoever you were, girl. Pick up.

Four....

Suddenly, it connects. There's silence on the other side. Then a hesitant:

-... Hello?

It is not a woman's voice. Doesn't matter. I breathe is shakily, my throat feels on fire. I need to talk.

-I need help. Please.

I don't know how I said it, but it resulted in another while of silence.

-What's going on? How did you get this number?

He sounds serious. Did I annoy him? I need him to help me.

-A girl at a bar. She gave it to me... years. Years ago. I don't know why she gave me yours, but it doesn't matter. I need your help. I might die soon if I don't...

I sound pathetic. Begging for help from a total stranger. What did my life come to? My voice broke and the tears nearly chocked me before I could finish my sentence.

-Die? What? Is this a joke?

-No, I swear. Please don't be mad and don't end it. I'm sorry but this is the only number I could call. There's someone after me. He's been chasing me from the city and into the forest I'm in now. I need help. I can't run any longer. I'm trapped. Please, please, don't hang up. Please help me.

He didn't respond. I heard his breathing, though.

-Please....

I cried. I just needed him to stay with me. Even if he couldn't help, all I needed was for him to stay on the call. To be there with me. So I wouldn't die alone, forgotten.

-Where are you right now?

His voice. It was much gentler. I still sobbed.

-Forest. North of Tulan. The right side of it from the street.

-Tulan....

He repeated quietly.

-Are they still after you?

-I don't know... They tried to run me over with their car... I ran into the forest but I don't know if they went after me. I'm alone now, though...

He sighed heavily. I heard a mechanical keyboard in the background. Was he typing something?

-Are you hurt? Will you be able to hold on for a while longer?

-My leg's in a bear trap... I'm tired and cold, but otherwise fine.

-Bear trap?... Oh, I've got it.

He sounded so sure. Does he know where to find me? Is he sending help?

-Prepare the men and the helicopter.

Was there someone else with him? Helicopter? Who did I contact?

-The help is coming. Hang in there and don't fall asleep before you hear us coming.

Us? Is he coming too? Will they find me before my pursuers?

-Thank you...

I mutter before the call ends. And once again I am alone. Everything is quiet and I wonder if that's how death is. I wait in anticipation but there's no new sounds. I don't hear a helicopter for sure. The minutes drag out and I'm feeling worse than before. Please find me sooner than the Reaper.

Now that I'm alone with my thoughts again... Wasn't his voice familiar? I've had to heard it before, but where?

I hear rustling. Steps. Breaking branches. Chatter. I cling closer to my tree. My only solace right now.

It's getting closer. There's light appearing. There's more of them than necessary to kill me. I close my eyes and make myself smaller. Maybe they won't find me in the shadows. I feel the bright light suddenly falling on me and a loud yell right after.

-She's here! Get the medic!

Medic? Is it...?

I open my eyes slowly, getting them used to the light as I hear more footsteps coming towards me. Some are approaching faster than the other.

-Oh, thank God.

I hear a sigh of relief coming from a person in front of me. It's the same voice I heard through my phone. It's much clearer now and I recognise it much quicker. It's much more... soft, than how I hear it usually.

I can't see the person well. I know who he is. He approaches me with someone else. The other person immediately examinates my leg. All while the man I know, more or less, wraps a warm blanket around me and crouches to my side.

-How's it look like?

He asks the medic. His voice, it's... soothing, yet strikes concern, fear maybe, it's much different than when it's directed towards me. It's one of a ruler. The one in control.

-It's not good. Sprained and now this. We need to take her to our ward.

The response wasn't of a fearful subordinate. It was of a professional working alongside someone trust worthy, reliable. It was of someone who wasn't treated like a pawn, but a friend, colleague, someone who knew whatever he said would be taken seriously.

-That's what I thought.

The man muttered. I could see much clearer now. His hair is shorter than I remember. Sharp pain strikes my ankle again. I curl up and grit my teeth to deal with it. A groan escapes my mouth and tears well up in my eyes again. I breathe in and out, trying to ease it somehow. The trap is off and the wound was treated with a disinfectant.

Then I feel something else. His hand grabs mine. It's grip is strong, but not crushing. It's comforting. I finally start feeling safe. It's the first time in months that I do.

In no time my leg is bandaged and secured. He ordered his men to get something to transport me safely to his helicopter. It's apparently parked in the clearing. Clear in sight. How far must I have ran from it that I couldn't hear the machine approaching?

Everyone else is busy with something else. The medic went back with others to pick up the right gear. I'm exhausted. I feel myself falling, slipping away, before I gently land on something soft, stable, warm. I can finally relax, I feel. I don't think I can think of anything right now. I feel right, though.

I'm safe and I feel that. I close my eyes against my better judgement. I don't notice the man is looking right at me. I don't feel his arm wrapping around me and pulling me closer. I don't feel his hand gently wiping my wet cheek. Neither do I hear him ask me:

-What the fuck have you gotten into, Carrie?

He doesn't expect me to answer. At least for now. But he'll know soon, and that'll make a change in his life. And mine. And it won't ever be changed back.

You met a girl at a bar who gave you a number. Turns out, she has a superpower; Any number she gives out to others turns into the number they needed to call the most. You call it, and it forwards you to the most powerful supervillain in the world.

[deepspacenova]

something that is both heartwarming and heartbreaking about Caleb is the way he consistently continues to fight his fate, despite every sign he encounters pointing toward its inevitability:

it's in the way he defies the Toring Chip, and the meaning of 7%

When Caleb falls apart on the bench with MC and the chip resets in Farspace Bloomfall, 100% of his mind is supposed to reset.... and yet only 93% of the chip is integrated and able to do so.

We know Caleb is aware of this too, when he tells MC to tell him about her problems “while I can still respond.” Because he knows he'll inevitably lose some information once it happens, like the 'patrol data' Enforcer mentions.

This means it’s happened before, Caleb's mind had been reset before. Which means, he knows if the chip’s integrity ever gets to 100% and resets, anything he feels toward MC will also reset. And so..

“…he’s purposefully ‘sealed’ his brain rather than damaging it.”

So Caleb gathered up every emotion, every memory, and every impression of MC in his mind, wrapped it all together into one small piece, and has since, against all odds, continuously used his Evol to put a barrier around it, to protect it. To keep the chip from finding it and wiping it. And what is that piece? That 7%?

7% is MC. 7% is his memories of MC. 7% is his love for MC.

it's in the way he's turned himself from "perfect weapon to destroy each other" to "perfect weapon to destroy others"

I could be wrong (please correct me), but I'm pretty sure it's murky right now whether Caleb (subject 002?) knew MC during any of her 'incarnations' in the lab and/or their purposes to be a killswitch for each other. But if he does know or remember any of it, the protection of that 7% from the Toring Chip becomes even more vital and strategic as all hell.

Because that would mean Caleb orchestrated a situation where he's become the lab subject, a decoy in MC's place as they try and correct the chip within him.

And that would mean that Caleb planned for them to "sacrifice a great deal to obtain him," — apparently, so much that they're unwilling/unable to simply dispose of him when he's resisting the very thing that would seal his fate as "the key", as MC's killswitch.

and it's in the literal beat of his heart

when you lay your hand over caleb's heart to hear his heartbeat, no matter how fast that beat starts out, if you hold your hand there long enough, his heartbeat inevitably tapers into a calm 50-60.

Despite all he's doing to preserve that 7%, he can't fight the nature of the other 93%. The nature of the chip and it's purpose to keep him in an emotional stasis.

His excitement to see you, his happiness to have you there, the fluttering of his heart? Those are abnormalities to the chip, those aren't in line with what that stasis is supposed to be. And so... no matter how quickly his heart beats for you initially, it inevitably gets suppressed.

We see how it affects other members of the Fleet too. How all of them have accepted the inevitability of the chip. Tuum Officer No. 6025 and Liam in particular shows us exactly what it looks like to give in.

And yet, every time you come back, Caleb's still excited, Caleb still fights it. He's fighting it with only 7% of his memory, he's fighting it with every quickened beat of his heart.

If the chip is a tether, if his fate is a tether, Caleb will never stop sawing at the strings, and i am not okay about it.

blame for any and all crash outs can be directed to @solifloris and @starmocha, who have managed to make my "down bad" for caleb turn into "sick to my stomach with eternal devotion"

[charlotteking23]

Hi! Can I request a batfam x batmom. But batmom's not that quick to catch on, but it comes to a point where all the boys know she's pregnant, they are all treating her different. Damian (#1 momma's boy) is sucking up to her even more. So when she does announce it, everyone's like "Um we've known for a long time now..."

the secrecy

Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary: You're not quick to catch your family's sudden protectiveness. So when emotions run high, you're left with a test.

Warnings: the feeling of sadness... and that's it.

"Hmm, hmmm,hmmmm, mmm"

They watched as you danced around in the kitchen, slowly humming a melody you adored and sang to the kids when they were little.

"It's kinda bittersweet, you know" Dick grinned watching you all happy unaware of your stalkerish kids.

"Yeah, and demon spawn here is no longer going to be the baby of the family," Jason smiled devilishly, seeing Damian frown. "How does it feel?" Jason hinted mockingly before cooing at Damian.

"Stop.. teasing him," Tim bantered hysterically, trying to catch his breath, punching Jason in the arm jokingly. It was as if he didn't want him to stop, but he had to show some type of empathy, even if it was fake.

"Look we can all agree that we need to take care of Mom", Dick interrupted hoping to shift Jason teasing off of Damian. They all collectively agree for the first time ever.

𐙚

It began as a simple task, you know. Helping out more around the house.

Which also included becoming a personal chauffeur and suffering through many hours of shopping, making sure you were okay. Because they would do anything for their mom.

You arrived back at the Manor after the long and intensive grocery shopping. You parked the car inside the garage next to your husband's vast amount of cars he liked to collect. You open the trunk, glancing at the amount of grocery bags there are.

Jason heard the garage opening being so close to check to see if his mother was home. On the walk to the garage, the first person he saw was Tim and like any normal circumstance, he dragged him to the garage without any warning.

"Damn it, Jason, a little warning next time", Tim shouted out before harshly yanking his arm out of Jason's grip.

Both Jason and Tim walked out of the garage towards their mother. "Here Ma, we'll help you",

Jason smiled at you before gently grabbing the bags from your hand and Tim who took more bags from the car.

"Oh umm...thanks", honestly in that moment you didn't know how to react. I mean, your kids were usually busy saving the world or with their own lives, but you were thanktul nonetheless.

𐙚

"gosh, my feet are killing me", you groaned quietly to yourself before sitting down and rubbing your feet. "I should probably do some stretches in the morning", You coaxed on the idea. "Ugh I'm too lazy for that", You whined in the throw pillow next to you.

Dick came down from his room, it was as if he had some supersonic senses whenever you were in assistance of help. Also, he had decided to stay in the manor for an extra couple of weeks and then return to the Teen Titans.

"Here Mom, I will massage it for you", Dick grinned, making your heart melt, at the thoughtfulness of your son.

"Thank you baby, but you don’t have to do that", you assured Dick, not wanting to take so much time out of his busy schedule. But all those thoughts quickly melt away when Dick started massaging your feet…you were in paradise.

As quickly as Bruce entered is as quickly as Bruce mouth agape. His son massaging his wife feet free…what is he playing at?

"Son, why don’t you-"

Bruce began but was quickly shut down by Dick's interruption. "Dad, I am fine", Dick finished with a glare at his father. Bruce watched his wife be completely oblivious to this interaction. What can you do? Bruce sighed before leaving somewhere…anywhere but there.

𐙚

Alfred was already a big help around the manor. There was really no difference except...

As usual, everyone had dinner together as a family, you set the rule so everyone can talk about their day and get some quality time together.

"This was delicious Alfred, thank you", You happily exclaimed at Alfred beside you. He made your favorite food.

"You're welcome Missus Wayne", he politely said as always, refusing to call you by your first name. No matter how much you tried to convince these were the times he would refuse.

Although you had persuaded Alfred to eat with you all because Alfred was family, no doubt about it. But It took a long time to convince Alfred to eat because of his constant refusal. But you were not going to take no for an answer this time.

You saw Alfred getting up so you as well stood up from your seat, hoping to return the favor.

"No Missus Wayne, there is no need to perform such duties", Alfred assured you. But you didn't listen and continued to pick up the dishes and help clean the table.

The kids could not watch you and Alfred do it all by yourselves. "Alfred where do you want these dishes", Jason asked seeing Alfred point in that direction. It became some kind of a family bonding.

Dick and Jason washed and dried the dishes, Tim was moping, Damian decided to you clean the table, and Bruce even helped sweep around.

𐙚

Finally, it was just you, I mean can you blame yourself, your kids had become a whole new level of weird and protective.

The wonderful movie of Cinderella, you absolutely adored the movie ever since you were a little girl, hoping to become a princess. You sighed as your favorite part came into the scene. "Gosh, so beautiful", you breathed as Cinderella twirled around and forged a magnificent dress, that you only dream of wearing,

Nothing can ruin the moment, you can hardly take your eyes off the screen.

"Hello, ummie"

"Holy fuc-", you let a scream of terror, putting a hand on your chest to regulate your breathing. "Damian what...what are you doing here?", you asked in between breaths, "we need to put a bell on you", you muttered, groaning slightly.

"I'm here to give you company", Damian flashed his teeth, sitting next to you on the couch.

"oh baby, I um...you don't have to do that", you assured Damian, hoping he gives you some must needed alone time. You tried to go back to your movie, already missing some scenes, but the piercing gaze watched, calculating your every moment. You found it impossible to pay attention.

"Mother would you ever replace me?", Damian whispered, it hurt even more when he whipped his head around closing his eyes afraid of see your reaction.

You were speechless to think that one of your kids could ever think about getting replaced. You gently grasp Damian's chin, turning it towards you, you can see the pain in his eyes, the same eyes that tried to mask that pain with fierceness.

Why would you ever think that baby", you sobbed, holding his hand while trying to keep the tears at bay. But nothing could ever prepare for this moment. You grasp his body crushing him towards you, you want to bury him in your chest, to comfort him and you.

"Why do you love me?... I am offspring of my father and my other mother", he muttered, the pain of hiding the secret longed to leave his body, but the fear of being true weighted more. He couldn't hold it anymore and let the tears fall, sobbing uncontrollably, it was finally the breaking point. The point where he tried to hide it so hard and be the warrior that was expected of Talia.

"Dami, I have loved you since I first met, and nothing will change that", you tried to stop crying but you couldn't because of the pain he felt, he has been living with and holding the burden of not feeling loved. You held more tightly, the movie left forgotten in the night.

Despite your legs and back pain, you cared for Damian gently through the Manor, stopping by your boy's room, the feeling of pain and defeat, wondering do any of your kids feel this way as well.

You joined Damian in bed, not wanting to leave him after the heartache you went through. You couldn't let down your children, not again.

𐙚

In the morning, you walked towards Bruce with a mission, you were determined to talk to him no matter his busy schedule.

"Come in".

Bruce was on the side of the room next to your vanity, in front of him a long mirror showcasing his body, as he tied his tie. Bruce saw through the mirror your anger radiating through the room, the tie forgotten as he went to you.

"Bruce we need to talk, now", your voice reaches its peak of authority demanding his attention.

Bruce grasped your hand, hoping to comfort you when you needed it. "Honey, what-", you sobbed out interrupting him before pulling your hand away hoping to hide your face from the shame and misery you had encountered yesterday.

Long warm arms embrace your figure drawing you away from the floor and onto the bed. Bruce rubbed your back up and down hoping to ease your sobbes. "Honey, what happened?", once Bruce learned after being married to you, he had to be patient.

Patiency was key between you too. He waited till your cries calmed down, only comforting you with physical touch, no words.

"Damian, felt like he was replaceable", you broke out after gathering your emotions together.

You held Bruce's hand, clenching his hand as tightly as possible, waiting for his reaction. You could feel your tears running down your face slowing, wiping them away before they could drop.

"I never knew he felt", Bruce spoke out in disbelief, his son had felt like for god-knows how long. What kind of father was he?

You both sat silently, knowing the outcome of this situation. Although neither of you spoke, it was almost like a bond was going through you both. You both knew you had to spend more time with the children and understand them. No matter, they had to be there as parents.

You felt your legs carry you to the bathroom, crouching down towards the toilet. You stayed your face stained with tears, as you vomited, trying to surpass these feelings.

Bruce followed you before crouching with you as he held your hair out of your face. His face was enticed with worry, hoping nothing serious was happening. You stop vomiting, and the sound of the toilet being flushed made its way in the bathroom as you grab your tooth brush and started brushing.

Bruce looked under the cabinet hoping to find something to help, his eyes suddenly landed on a pack of tests. Pregnancy tests.

Bruce took out the box inspecting it, before looking at you. He couldn't help but wonder about the signs, he had missed. The vomiting for one, is emotional, and cravings.

You could feel Bruce's stare from a mile away, fearing the box he had in his hand that instigated those stares. "Baby, you don't think...do you?", You were hesitant and all those whirlwind of emotions were coming back.

Bruce took your hand grasping it, assuring you. "Hey just try okay. no harm right", Bruce whispered in your ear before taking your body close to him in an embrace easing the tension.

You only nodded, the words failing to come out. You quickly grab a test before making a beeline to the bathroom. You were anxious, your hands were sweaty, and your nerves were building up as you anxiously waited for the timer to go off.

Bruce held you as much as you would allow him, trying not to show any doubt in his face in fearing of disappointing you. The timer felt slow, a pace so small, 30 seconds left but it felt like the longest 30 seconds of your existence.

Ding

Moment of truth, were you pregnant. As you flip over the test, the breathe you were holding, left upon seeing positive. Positive.

"I am pregnant", You cried out happy tears, sinking to the floor and feeling Bruce try to hold you up. The tears were running wild on your face, as you held the test to your heart.

Bruce could not believe he was going to be a father again. Bruce could not some of his tears following as smiled so happily, his mouth was starting to hurt.

"Oh baby, we have to tell everyone", You were gasping between breaths at the thought of everyone's reactions, especially Damian. Would this make him more angry? More unloved? If you told the news to everyone.

As much as you wanted to question your decision more, Bruce was already calling out to his kids for a family meeting.

Your arms were crossed to your chest as you whipped your head back in forth, annoyed that Bruce couldn't have at least 5 minutes. The only reaction he gave upon seeing the annoyed look was a scratch on his neck before dashing out of the room, like a child.

" A Child", you mumbled to yourself, hearing Bruce laugh from the hallway.

𐙚

All the kids sat in the living room, anxiously waiting why their father to call a family meeting. Which of the kids screw up, who would take the blame, and who would get grounded.

"Alright Jason, you might as well confess", Dick accused Jason. He roughly shoved Jason's shoulder, knocking him off the couch.

In crazy hand gestures, "Why do I always get blamed?!!", Jason yelled out in anger, believing he was being targeted by his brothers again.

"What do you mean...you cause the most trouble", Tim nodded his head at Jason, knowing it was a fact that Jason caused the most fight and stress upon his parents.

"Well...Well, demon-spawn has been silent this whole time, who to say he did not cause this meant", Jason pointed his finger at Damian hoping to divert the attention away from him.

Damian barely acknowledges him, the silence weighted on the situation at hand. The boys were concerned to stay the least, it was unusual for Damian to be so quiet but for him to show this rare emotion of sadness, it was strange...

Before the boys could ask any questions regarding Damian's state, their parents walked.

"The fuck-", Jason spoke out letting out a audible gasp at the sight. His father was...smiling. "Yeah Dad, hate to break to you, but you look really creepy with your smile, so please stop", Jason demanded, covering his face with his hand, it was a sight to see for sure.

The kids were all shocked to see their parents all smiley and happy.

"could have sworn, someone was going to get in trouble", Tim pointed out with his arm crossing over his chest.

Bruce put his hand out in front of him, silencing the kids.

"We have some news", You smiled practically bouncing on your toes. You couldn't wait to see their reactions, You wanted all the kids to be comfortable with this change, especially Damian after the conversation from last night. It was still replaying like a broken CD.

"I AM PREGNANT!!!"

You looked at the kids seeing some mixed reactions. Jason's face was neutral not a single emotion you could hinder on his face. Dick grinned joyfully at the news clapping his hand excitedly. Tim smiled but the look behind his eyes portrayed many emotions including happiness. Damian was the last face you saw, not because he was the youngest or how he sat farther away from everyone else. No, you were petrified of the emotions displaced on his face.

Damian flashed a quick smile, before rushing up from the couch standing, racing towards you in a bone-crushing hug. You wrapped your arms tightly around your youngest never wanting to leave this fleeting moment. The sight of Damian's tears running freely down his face, stung your heart letting out a quiet sob.

You felt many pairs of arms around you and Damian, the arms of your kids and your husband like a protective embrace blocking out the evils that dare to impair you.

But the moment was quickly interrupted, "Ma, I...no we have to tell you something", Jason nervously wiped his hand on his pants hoping to get rid of the sweat that was building on.

Dick felt a pair of eyes on him, he looked around the room and behind the wall was none of them...Alfred. Alfred looked him dead in the eye, signaling him to confess the secret. Dick looked back at you, pretending he didn't just see Alfred side-eye him.

"Mom we-", Dick began but quickly stopped looking for some help.

"Ummi-, Damian began to speak before...

"Mom, um we've known for a long time now...", Tim finished telling the secret for his brother. Can't count on his brothers to spill the secret to their mother, so you have to do it yourself.

"What..how?!", you exclaimed loudly, tearing your arms out of Bruce's embrace. How could the kids have known before you? Is that why they've been acting differently.

Bruce had a struggle to comprehend the boy's secret. How could they have known before him? He is a detective the best..and he couldn't even tell his wife was pregnant before his own kids.

"The fuck", Bruce spoke out, finally having some kind of reaction and then staring at his kids with all these mixed reactions. It was the first time, any of you had seen Bruce portray so many emotions.

"Master Bruce, please mind your language", Alfred stated, coming out from behind the walls, like nothing had happened, and continue to dust the manor.

[cosmosluckycharms]

can we get more incorrect quotes?

like this time with miguel + reader but also damion and penny

i mean like if you INSIST (i love making these)

spider!reader, peni & damian : *screaming*

miguel: *runs into the room* What's wrong, damian ?!

spider!reader: Wait, why are you asking damian that when peni and I are also here?

miguel: Because damian wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

spider!reader: The scariest president had to be Rushmore because he had four heads.

peni: Yeah, it’s a good thing we captured him in that mountain, even if we have to live in fear of the spell wearing off.

miguel: Do you two still believe in that legend? Come on, Rushmore was killed a hundred years ago! We’re safe now.

damian : You people have clearly never taken a history lesson. His body was never found.

miguel: Are you laughing at that video of peni and damian fighting?

spider!reader: No.

spider!reader: I'm laughing at the comments.

*The squad is visiting a store late at night to return a DVD for spider!reader*

damian: I forget—what happens if we don’t return the DVD before midnight?

miguel: Then spider!reader gets charged extra. It’s called a “late fee”.

peni: Or was it zombie apocalypse? Eh, I don’t remember, but we can’t afford either.

peni: *clicks pen*

spider!reader: *clicks pen in response*

damian: Stop that.

peni : Stop what?

damian: You’re talking about me in Morse code!

spider!reader: Yes, that’s what we doing. In our very limited time, we took a class on a very outdated, very unnecessary form of communication just so we could talk about you in front of you. Congrats, you figured us out!

*later*

spider!reader, to miguel: That’s actually exactly what we were doing.

peni: Can I be frank with you guys?

damian: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is going to help.

spider!reader: Oh! Can I still be spider!reader?

miguel: Shh. Let Frank speak.

miguel: I just watched peni jump off of a spinning chair. Luckily, she wasnt hurt that badly. But the whole time, damian was screaming for help, which caused spider!reader to run in to help peni. Just note that all of this happened in the span of six minutes.

miguel: What do you three have to say for yourself?

peni:

damian:

spider!reader: Oops?

damian: miguel, we're hungry!

peni: miguel! What's for dinner?

spider!reader: We're hungry, miguel!

miguel, frying a bottle of ketchup over the stove: *screams*

miguel: Why are you two always out during rainstorms?

spider!reader: It’s so peaceful and refreshing. I love the smell of rain.

damian : peni bet me I couldn’t get struck by lighting, but she's WRONG.

miguel: *points at peni* A human turtleneck, *points at damian * a narcissistic monster, *points at spider!reader* and literally the dumbest person I’ve ever met.

spider!reader: And who am I? Describe me now.

peni, pointing to the wall: What color is this?

damian : Gray.

spider!reader: Grey.

peni, turning to miguel: Now tell them what color you think it is.

miguel: Dark white.

spider!reader: What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out.

miguel: Fucking damian and peni were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

*The gang when they drop food on the floor*

miguel: Aw man. *Throws it away*

spider!reader: Five second rule!

damian : Foolish germs, thinking they can stop me!? *Eats it off the floor*

peni: *Sobs on the floor*

spider!reader: damian's out the will.

damian: That’s honestly fair. I deserve that.

miguel: Wait, you have a will? Already? You haven’t even graduated.

spider!reader: I’ve done some things in my life. Upset the wrong people. peni, you have a will too, right?

peni: Lots. Good luck figuring out which one’s real.

spider!reader: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions.

damian: Ridiculous. Give me some examples.

miguel: Wasps?

peni: Terriers?

spider!reader: damian.

damian: What’s it like being tall?

peni: Is it nice?

spider!reader: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

miguel: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

peni: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

damian : *crouches down*

spider!reader: *kneels down*

miguel: *sits on the floor*

peni: peni: I hate all of you.

peni: damian got into a fight.

spider!reader: That’s bad.

spider!reader:

spider!reader: Did he win?

peni: Hey, spider!reader, have you thought about having children?

spider!reader: ...

spider!reader: Does looking over you and the others not seem like I already do? Because I promise you, it sure feels like it.

peni: But we're not childr-

spider!reader, already distracted: DAMIAN, PUT THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER DOWN!

damian: You're pathetic!

peni: You're pathetic-er!

spider!reader: You're both losers.

damian: Comparing spider!reader and peni is like comparing apples and oranges.

spider!reader: We’re both unique in our own ways?

damian: Apples are superior in every way and all oranges should be eliminated.

peni: Which one of us is the orange?

spider!reader: damian, peni, I love y’all and all, but can I ask what in the hell are you doing?

damian, trying to stabilize a tower of folding chairs that peni is sitting atop: Oh nothing much.

peni: I love you too :)

peni: I know we’re not exactly friends, but-

damian: What do you want?

peni: I've been stuck with spider!reader for 2 weeks and they've been drinking all the soy sauce.

peni: Help.

spider!reader: I will find us a covered wagon and horses. spider!reader: If you two can manage to not kill each other while I'm gone.

damian: Oh, please. We're not children.

*spider!reader leaves*

damian, casually: ...Eat shit and die.

peni, also casually: Yes, fuck you.

spider!reader: damian, we need that!

damian, holding peni over a trash can: Nope.

spider!reader: Gimme it—

damian: It’s garbage.

peni: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on spider!reader without them noticing?

damian: Hey, spider!reader, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny.

spider!reader: *takes and swallows tracker* Pay up, loser.

peni: ...

peni: What’s your favorite color?

damian: Stop asking stupid questions. Ask me something logical and mature.

peni: How many moles of sodium bicarbonate are needed to neutralize 0.8ml of sulfuric acid at STP?

damian: My favorite color is red.

damian: We vegetarians love the environment. Carnivores are sick freaks.

peni: How can vegetarians possibly love the environment.. you keep eating all the fucking plants.

haha i love damian and peni my sillies for weal

[mintendo96]

People especially don't understand the violence of displacement, refugeehood, and diaspora. Like the deaths of these wars are so brutal and horrific but being displaced isn't safety or without its own horrors.

Imagine someone like my dad. He was 6 years old when the six day war happened. He remembers it well even. He remembers being shot at. He remembers hiding in the caves. He remembers running out of food and not being sure if they would be able to get more. Now that alone is a horror and a trauma that lives on your bones.

Now imagine that the only home he has ever known is not home anymore. Might never be again. This place is where your family has lived for at least 12 generations and have family legends of Saladin. His parents decided it was safer to come to the US. A place where he doesn't speak the language, none of them do really. A place that's different entirely: a rural town in Palestine to a bustling American city is a big transition. And he just has to be okay with that because it's a *blessing* at least you are *safe.*

But safety isn't in the day to day as his family struggles to feed all of them. Safety isn't the word I would use to describe figuring out what place to put on your passport as country of origin when your country can't be your birthplace. Safety isn't the word I would use to describe the myriad of ways racism appears in the day to day, both mundane and horrifying. He loses whatever abilities he has to read and write in Arabic.

But, he eventually gets to a place where he and other parts of his family can go back to home. It's wonderful although brief each time and getting briefer. Then things get worse back home and he won't know the next time it will be safe to see his home. He tries to preserve his culture to his kids with his wife who is also Palestinian. They know some basic words in Arabic, but they are toddlers, they will learn more.

Then 9/11 happens. The world is more dangerous for him and his kids than he thought it could get. Even in the "safe" place that they fled to. Hate crimes are increasingly a problem and what is going to happen to his kids. He and his wife stop speaking Arabic in public. Not on purpose, not even consciously, but their kids slowly lose their tenuous grasp of his language. They can't even speak to his parents really and the language barrier between the two generations is a new kind of horror. A rupture that echoes the lack of his literacy in Arabic but this time he can hear it.

He doesn't visit home again for over 2 decades. But he gets back home. And it is beautiful. Two of his adult kids come for the first time. They get to see what they have been missing their whole lives. The parts of them that were lost to time or hatred are here. He even wants to move back. He tries to start the process of getting his parents home in his and his siblings names. It's all they he adores, the food is just as good as he remembers. His kid gorges herself on figs so much she gets ill. They have tea every morning on the patio.

He doesn't get a chance to go back. Not yet at least. The pandemic and then the genocide have prevented him. His kid now lives within a few miles of where the first hate crime in the US that took place after 9/11. He has spent the last 2 years watching horrors beyond even the traumas he already held. He watches the place he loves and desparately wants to return to get turned into rubble over and over again.

Being in the US has meant my family is alive. I am privileged to be here, but it is a horror onto itself. And this is a story of displacement to a Western country, many other stories are far worse than his, far worse than mine. But even in ideal circumstances, diaspora has been a horror. A rupture in space and time on our culture and our identity happening concurrently to the physical destruction of people that look like us. Do you know how often I donate to people with the names of my cousins? How often I see bloodied faces of kids that look like my niblings? How if we were from just a few miles southwest from where we are, we would be there too?

Getting out is important and you should keep funding people to flee, but you have to understand, they aren't fleeing to safety. They are fleeing to a better chance at life, but that life, as it stands, will never be safe.

The US literally invented the playbook by invading Iraq 2 decades ago and keeping it under occupation for nearly a decade after that (and it still is under occupation really, what with US troops still strewn throughout the country)—and we still have people thinking that their every pro-Israeli move isn’t made with the very intention of killing Arabs, as they historically have in the past. Get serious.

[shibuyablonde]

GIRL PLEASE IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES I NEED A PART THREE OF BRATS OF OUR OWN

Brats of Our Own ft. katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

This is part 3. Previous parts are on the masterlist

➛ link: click here

synopsis: Katsuki Bakugo thought he'd seen it all: his former classmates settling down and starting families, one by one. But as you sit at Mina and Kirishima’s house, holding his friend's newborn daughter, the idea of fatherhood starts creeping into his mind.

a/n: Since it seems like everyone wants a part 3, here ya go! I had this previously requested, but I accidentally deleted it. Also, it's not my best work, but when I tell you I'm stressed, I'm stressed, though I still wanna get something out for you guys.

You never imagined your life would look like this.

Swollen feet, backaches, an impressive waddle, and Bakugo insisting on carrying everything that weighed more than a pencil. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, when you stopped feeling scared and started feeling… ready.

Maybe it was when you first saw that grainy ultrasound photo and Katsuki’s thumb brushed over the tiny blob like it was something sacred.

Maybe it was when Mina forced you into a mommy group chat and started sending you articles about car seats at 3 am.

Maybe it was when Katsuki whispered, “We got this.” And you finally believed him.

But here you were, seven months pregnant, belly rounding beneath the oversized hoodie you stole from Katsuki’s closet, and his hands were everywhere.

“I can do it myself,” you grumbled, swatting his hand away as you tried to lace your shoes.

“Yeah, no,” Katsuki deadpanned, kneeling down in front of you. “You’ll pass out tryin’ to breathe and bend at the same time.”

You groaned. “I’m pregnant, not dying.”

He shot you a look, eyes flicking up to meet yours, and you caught it, that undercurrent of protectiveness. It never left. It only got stronger as your belly grew.

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, tying the laces in neat double knots, “I’m not takin’ chances.”

Pregnancy with Katsuki was... an event.

He read everything. The books Mina lent you, the pamphlets from your doctor’s office. He took notes. Hell, he showed up to the birthing classes, and while he’d sulked in the back row at first, arms crossed over his broad chest, by the third class he was sitting up front, asking questions that made the instructor blush.

“What’s the fastest way to get her to the hospital if her water breaks during rush hour?”

“Should I pack extra protein bars? She eats like crap when she’s stressed.”

He was worried, sure. But he was ready.

You didn’t realize how lucky you were until you were surrounded by people who got it.

Mina and Kirishima were always the first to show up. Mina practically dragged you to her house the second you hit the second trimester.

“You’re gonna want to sit down for this,” she said as she propped your feet up on the coffee table and handed you an ice pack for your swollen ankles.

“Trust me,” she added with a wink. “Kirishima thought he was ready, but that first diaper blowout? Nearly ended him.”

Kirishima chuckled, bouncing their baby girl on his knee. “Hey, I’m tougher now! Right, sweetheart?”

Mina grinned at him. “You cried.”

“She exploded!”

You laughed until your belly hurt. Mina leaned over, squeezing your hand. “You’re gonna be great at this, you know.”

And somehow, with your best friend looking at you like that, you believed her.

Deku and Ochako brought over dinner at least once a week. Well, Deku did, he rambled endlessly about helpful nutrients for fetal development, while Ochako giggled and quietly replaced your water glass every hour.

“We’re not far behind you,” Ochako whispered one evening when Deku went to reheat soup. She glanced at her stomach, then at you. “I’m pretty sure.”

You squeezed her hand. “You’ll be amazing.”

She smiled. “You first.”

Todoroki’s twins were miniature versions of him, sitting stoically on either side of him when he came to visit.

“I brought these,” he said, handing you a bag of frozen peas for your back. “They help.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

One of the twins tugged at your sleeve. “Do you have names yet?” she asked.

You blinked, then smiled. “Not yet.”

Katsuki scowled from across the room. “We’re working on it.”

Iida and Mei sent you blueprints for the ultimate baby-proofing system. You still weren’t sure how they got the specs of your apartment.

And then there was Kaminari. Kaminari, who brought an entire cake to your baby shower, grinning as if he’d made it himself.

He didn’t.

But he did plop down next to Katsuki with a wide grin and say, “Guess you two finally figured out how babies are made, huh?”

The room went dead silent.

Katsuki’s head turned slow, like something out of a horror movie. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing!” Kaminari squeaked, practically climbing over Jirou to get away.

Katsuki scowled. “Dumbass.”

But you swore you saw his lips twitch.

You weren’t sure who was more excited to tell Katsuki’s parents, him or you.

Masaru hugged you so tight you thought you’d pop. “Oh, I’m so happy for you two!” he said, beaming.

Mitsuki, on the other hand, grinned like she won.

“Finally!” she barked, smacking her son on the back hard enough to make him grunt. “I’ve been waiting for this! Took you long enough!”

“Yeah, well,” Katsuki grumbled, crossing his arms. “We wanted to wait until we were ready.”

Mitsuki rolled her eyes. “I was ready the second I met her.” She pointed a finger at you. “You. Good choice.”

You smiled. “Thanks, Mitsuki.”

Masaru patted Katsuki’s shoulder. “You’ll be a great dad.”

For the first time in a while, Katsuki didn’t argue. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I will.”

The day she came, you didn’t sleep the night before. Something about it felt… different. Like your body knew something was coming.

And then the contractions hit.

Katsuki was already dressed before you could finish saying, “I think—”

“We’re going,” he said, shoving the hospital bag into your arms and scooping you up like it was nothing.

You barely remembered the car ride, only his voice. “Breathe, baby. We got this.” It's one of the few times and called you baby but you love every moment of it.

Labor was hell. You cursed. You screamed. You cried.

And Katsuki stayed.

He held your hand when it felt like your body was being split in two. He whispered in your ear when you thought you couldn’t push one more time.

“Look at me,” he said, fierce and gentle all at once. “You’re the strongest damn person I know. You got this.”

And you did.

You pushed.

And then you heard her cry.

Meeting your daughter Katsuki was quiet. Too quiet.

They placed her in your arms first, and you sobbed, holding this tiny, wrinkled human that felt like everything.

Then you turned to him.

“Wanna hold her?”

He swallowed hard, then nodded. His hands were shaking as he took her from you.

“Hey,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Hey there, princess.”

She blinked up at him, red-faced and squirmy.

And Katsuki Bakugo, Dynamight himself, broke into the softest smile you’d ever seen.

The hospital room filled fast. Mina cried harder than you. Kirishima did too. Deku took so many pictures. Ochako kept asking if you needed water. Todoroki brought ice. Again.

Kaminari stood over Katsuki’s shoulder, staring at your daughter in his arms.

“She’s got your scowl already,” he said.

“Damn right she does,” Katsuki said, grinning.

Jirou leaned in. “Hope she doesn’t get your temper.”

“No promises,” you muttered, exhausted but happy.

Katsuki mumbled at insult, but he was smiling.

He looked down at his daughter, resting against his chest, and whispered,

“Now we got a brat of our own.”

© 2025 shibuyablonde — All rights reserved. Don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake's Immortal Babysitter

Tim Drake has always had someone watching over him. The Bast just don't know it.

Because before Tim was Red Robin—before he was even walking—the Drakes made a deal. They were rich, busy, and too occupied with their globe-trotting lifestyle to actually raise their son. But they still wanted Tim protected. Watched over. Cared for.

Enter Danny.

Young-looking, strangely unaging, with sharp blue eyes and a warm smile, he seemed like a responsible college kid just looking for a babysitting gig. Only he wasn’t. Because behind the casual charm and the easy grin was Phantom, the immortal protector of Amity Park—now moonlighting as the personal bodyguard of one Tim Drake.

The Drakes paid him an obscene amount of money to keep their son safe. But Danny didn’t do it for the money. He did it because he promised.

And Danny always keeps his promises.

-—

Tim doesn’t remember a time without Danny.

Danny, who stayed with him when his parents were gone for months at a time. Danny, who dried his tears and soothed his nightmares. Danny, who bandaged scraped knees and taught him how to ride a bike. Danny, who picked him up from school and brought him home to a warm meal, even when his parents didn’t care enough to call.

And when Tim got older—when he grew sharper, smarter, and far too observant—he started noticing things. How Danny never seemed to age. The way Danny was always there, no matter what. How he could do things no normal person could do—like pull Tim out of the path of an oncoming car and somehow appear twenty feet away a second later, holding him safely in his arms.

Tim figured it out by the time he was ten.

"You’re Phantom, aren’t you?" he asked one night, voice steady, too sure for a child. Danny stared at him for a moment, then huffed out a tired laugh. "Yeah, Tim. I am." Tim blinked once. "Cool. Can you teach me how to fight?"

Danny had laughed so hard he nearly cried. And then, he did teach him.

-—

So by the time Tim became Robin, Danny already knew.

He didn’t try to stop him. He didn’t tell him it was too dangerous. He just smiled wryly, ruffled Tim’s hair, and made him promise to let Danny help.

That way, when Tim was too tired to make it home? Danny was there, carrying him back to his apartment. When Tim got injured? Danny was the one who patched him up before anyone else could even find him. When Tim couldn’t stand after a fight? Danny was the one pulling him into his arms, flying him away before the family even realized he was gone.

And no one knew.

The Bats didn’t notice the subtle extra layer of protection. The faint wisp of cold air that followed Tim after patrols. The second shadow lingering on the rooftops.

None of them saw the glimmer of white hair that flickered out of sight or the flash of toxic green eyes that glared from the dark whenever someone got too close to Tim.

And Tim? Tim was happy.

Even when Bruce found out about Tim’s parentless situation and, with all his good intentions, suggested adoption—offering to bring Tim into Wayne Manor, to make him part of the family—Tim just shook his head.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he said easily. Bruce blinked. "Tim, I can give you a home. You don’t have to—" "I already have a home," Tim interrupted softly. Because he did. Because Danny was his family.

-—

The family doesn’t know. They don’t know that when Tim comes back from a rough patrol, there’s already a cup of hot chocolate waiting for him at home. That when Tim is too tired to train, there’s someone helping him stretch and taking care of his body. That when Tim doesn’t answer his comm, it’s because Danny is already there.

And when Tim is Red Robin, moving with practiced ease through Gotham, Phantom is always nearby, invisible to everyone else but always watching over him.

Tim doesn’t need to be adopted. He doesn’t need a Bat symbol on his chest to feel safe. Because he has Danny, and Danny has him.

And that's all he'll ever need.

[quokkaholic]

Otaku Hot Boys minsung

Warnings/tags: MDNI, smut w/plot, friends to ?poly?, picking on reader, cussing, light degradation, some mxm but like its not the focus, giggly, sweet, threesome with some body worship, oral both, protected take note p in v, subby!Han bc i can’t stop myself, dom!Lee know but the dynamics only extend to the reader, shy/embarrassed reader, weeb slander. This is biased towards Han bc I too am biased towards Han. Lightly edited

Synopsis: At your weekly "otaku club" to discuss all things manga/anime with your two close friends, they seem to be a bit too interested in your recent spike in bl media enjoyment. 

Terms for you non-losers: bl/yaoi- boys love or media centered on gay relationships, gl/yuri- girls love or media centered on lesbian relationships, otaku- person consumed by their interests (typically anime, manga, video games, etc.), fujoshi-means rotten girl, it's typically a girl who is really into bl media

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Tonight is the night. The night you look forward to every week. It's your friends’ otaku club night, the night where you and your two fellow weebs get together to talk about any new media you’ve consumed typically centered around anime and manga. You've been steeped in this type of media since the moment you were introduced to it years ago. So much so that, you even became a part time worker at your local manga cafe/bookstore. Beyond supplying some extra income, the employee discount is unbeatable. At work is actually where you met the guys.

Minho wandered in one day, drawn in by the cheerful anime themes bumping through the speakers and the promise of cute, themed drinks. After ordering a pudding latte, he browsed the isles for what seemed like an eternity, long enough that you actually went to offer assistance, which you never do. Generally speaking, anime lovers aren’t the most comfortable in social situations, and you were no exception. Plus, the type of person that comes to a manga cafe tends to know what they like, or came in for a specific title. 

He had done a few laps around the place before you decided it was enough, you had to say something. You begrudgingly placed down the volume you were enjoying, being careful to keep your spot but not damage the book, as you weren’t intending to buy it. If you bought every volume of every manga you read, you’d be hugely indebted to this place, more than you already are; the owner, luckily, is cool enough to allow you to take some books home and just deduct the total from your next paycheck. Approaching the seemingly lost Minho, you greet him,

“Hi, is there something I can help you find?” your ears heating at simply having to speak to him. 

“Oh no!” he responds surprised as you have pulled him out of his mind and back to reality, 

“I’ve never been here and was just looking around; you guys have a great selection, good mix of the new, classic, and obscure,” he compliments between sips. The nerves have you briefly spacing out on the chunks of pudding rising up the straw, snapping out of it when you notice the silence. Its your turn to talk, 

“Yes, thank you, I’ll be sure to tell the owner, she’ll really appreciate that. Well—let me know if you need anything,” you rush away, retreating back to the stool behind the counter to pick up where you left off. Minho continued to look around for a while, occasionally picking up a book to read the back cover or sample the art style. He remained until he finally checked his phone, eyes bugging at the time displayed. He practically ran out the door, but not before apologizing for not buying anything and promising he would return with his roommate, and he did later that week. 

You three were not fast friends. They, like your typical customer, kept to themselves. Similar to Minho, Han’s first time in the store was spent in awe, walking up and down the same isles trying to take in the entire stock while sucking down the chocolatiest drink on the menu. After that, they were regulars. Visiting at least once a week, buying a few volumes or anime merch each but sometimes just visiting for a sweet treat of tea or coffee.

Though you never talked to them outside of your scripted retail speech, you were always happy to see them in the store. They were admittedly pleasant to look at, but beyond that they were always kind and friendly to you, and it was cute to see the best friends interact. You longed for a relationship like that. You had a few good friends, but none of them shared your interest in this form of media. You could talk about it with customers, but you could never share your unadulterated opinions or gossip about characters with the strangers. On top of being a joy to look at and interact with, the guys actually had good and diverse tastes, not just solely interested in shonen, action, and fanservice. You had actually picked up a few of the stories they had bought from you. Some you had heard of and some were definitely outside of your typical genres, but they were all shockingly good, one of them even making it into your top tier. After finishing their unknowing recommendations, you’d toy with the idea of complementing their choices, practicing what you’d say if you saw them at work. 

Of course, they would never come in on the days where you had built up the courage to say something, and you’d tell yourself you were disappointed, but it was secretly a relief. Then, when they would be there, you’d find some other reason not to say anything, maybe they looked like they were in a hurry, or were too deep in their own conversation, or you’d simply psyched yourself out of it by convincing yourself that they would be weirded out by how much attention you pay to their purchases. This went on for weeks until finally Jisung crossed that customer/employee line for you. He eagerly strode up to the counter, Minho following leisurely in toe, with the first volume of the manga you were currently enjoying at your post by the register, 

“I’ve seen you reading this series the last few times we’ve come in, is it any good?” he’d asked cooly, placing it along with a few others in front of you to ring up. His impassioned energy and deviation from your usual interaction, made your heart race and stomach flip. You didn’t or maybe couldn’t respond, just stared as he minorly fumbled around checking all his pockets for his wallet. You stayed like that for a few moments until Minho finally arrived at the counter, casually reaching into his jacket and pulling out the man's wallet and handing it to him only after bumping him with his elbow in a silent scold for misplacing the wallet for the umpteenth time. 

“Oh— yeah. It’s definitely worth a read; I have my issues with the plot, but stunning art makes up for it,” you’ve probably already said too much. You’re paid to make sales, not to be a manga critic, but Jisung doesn’t make any moves to put the book back. He just hands you his card like always, before asking,

“Really, like what?” That’s where the friendship started. That day, they stayed leaned up against the counter until the end of your shift discussing their recent reads and watches and asking your opinions on the classics to gauge how similar your tastes were, of which they were shockingly similar. Although you were nervous at first, you had built at least a little rapport with them through the months of being their cashier, and talking about a major interest of yours made it that much easier to overcome any sort of social anxiety on both yours and their parts. Even after it was time for you to head home, Minho bought you a drink from the cafe, and you all found a quiet corner to continue your discussion. This became a regular occurrence. If you were there when they came in, and they didn’t have somewhere else to be, they’d spend time nerding out with you. Eventually, they learned your schedule, and made sure to come in on your shifts to hangout. It was never an issue beyond the occasional shush from reading customers when your “friendly” debates got a bit too rowdy.

You never liked the shift manager; they were unsympathetic and rude, doing things like denying time off requests for no good reason and timing breaks just to excerpt any semblance of power they had over the other workers. They even tried to get you in trouble for reading on the job, when you first started, but luckily the owner was able to pick up on the blatant absurdity of the complaint. Since then you didn’t have any more problems with them, but at the staff meeting when they made a “completely general” and “unpointed” comment about ensuring we weren’t neglecting job duties to “flirt with hot boys”, you knew they were talking straight at you. Despite always getting all you work done and then some, you knew you had to put an end to the on-the-clock book club, or it would become an actual problem, warranted or not. 

The thought of not getting to hang out with Jisung and Minho circulated your mind non-stop after the initial embarrassment and anger over getting indirectly called out at work. Not only were you anxious to have a weird friend breakup, you were sad that you could be back to having no one to talk to about your more niche interests. They’d never seemed interested in seeing you outside of work; would this be the end?

You endlessly mulled over how to deal with it until the very second they walked through the door on your next shift, their cheery faces dropped upon laying eyes on your obviously stressed demeanor. They’d whisper something back and forth before speed walking straight over to cautiously greet you.

“Hey guys,” you say, cringing at the thought of what you’re gonna say next, “so I may have gotten in some pseudo trouble and was told I can’t hangout at work any more,” you quickly spat out, trying to get it over with as soon as possible, and they just stared back expectedly, waiting for whatever has you so visibly upset, as if you didn’t just say it.

“That’s it?” Jisung asks as almost simultaneously Minho snarkily remarked,

“It's about time. You don’t get anything done when we’re here.” sending you a mocking disappointed glare. 

“I will not stand for the slander. Maybe from the manager, but not from you. I always get my tasks done while providing satisfactory customer service. It’s usually a race against the clock after you guys leave, but it always gets done,” you drone on, finding yourself getting a little defensive at his jest causing his smirk to widen to a full smile. You’ve grown to learn that Minho enjoys playful arguments maybe a little too much, but you attempt put an end to it before it can spiral,

“Whatever, I don’t need to defend myself to you,” 

“Not me, but maybe this manager of yours,” mocking you for not standing up for yourself. He never poked fun at you before, so you know its a sign of his friendship, but as if on cue, sensing that you are taking the bait, Jisung butts back in,

“Really though is that it? Is that what has you worried?” You were the one staring back in anticipating and stunned,

“Of course I’m upset; I just said we can’t hangout anymore,” you tried to explain calmly, but you were feeling frantic due to their apparent lack of care at the idea of not talking anymore. Ji’s eyebrows knit together in utter confusion before looking over to his best friend who was looking once again disappointed in you with a slow shaking of his head.

“We can’t hang out here while you’re working,” he slows down his speech emphasizing the key parts of your mandate, hoping you can gather why they aren’t worried about the future of your relationship. While you remained confused, Jisung’s forehead relaxes as his face turns to one of realization, mouth forming a perfect O before returning to his just-entered-my-favorite-bookstore smile and shrugs his shoulders to brush off your concern before he offered the most obvious solution,

 “You’ll just start coming over to our place,” he stated, as if it were nothing. He didn’t ask, it was plain to them. You weren’t exiting their life, you were entering their apartment. Minho’s lazy shaking turned to nobbing as if he had been just waiting for you two to finally catch up. That was the end of that. They quickly grabbed what they came for but did stay and chat for a little, but only to make plans for you to come to their place that weekend. 

Such was the inception of your weekly otaku club, meeting at their place once a week or having a group call when schedules got too hectic. With weekly meetings, they quickly climbed the ranks, and have become some of your best friends. This week was the first in person session you had in weeks, and you were beyond ecstatic, stopping at the store to grab drinks and desserts as they were providing the meal and snacks. Upon entering the familiar flat, you remove your shoes and head to the source of the delicious smell and friendly voices. You find the guys setting out the snack and plates for the food Minho must’ve cooked, it looks too good for Jisung to be responsible. 

After the meal, you all follow the cute book club ritual of pulling out the books you have been enjoying, and have a show and tell, even though you all already know what eachother are reading. Jisung is working through a sports drama you had recommended, and Minho explained the convoluted plot of the isekai he just got into. When it was your turn you lifted the brightly colored, second to last, volume of the series, you’ve absolutely flown through over the past week,

“I’m almost done with this romance. It’s kind of short, but I have really enjoyed it, and I feel like they took the story in a new and interesting direction,” you continue to give a brief synopsis of the story, leaving out any spoilers, in case they want to read it after you. They had a few questions about the plot and your feelings on it, but there was one blaring question they really wanted to know the answer to,

“What kind of romance?” Ji asked with an inquisitive expression, but it wasn’t pure, there was just a twinge of mischief in his eyes,

“It's an office romance,” you explain hesitantly, trying not to sound condescending as you just gave the summary. 

“Yeah?” Minho chimes in trying to draw the answer they really want out of you.

“Well the main guys are office workers, so its an adult office romance,” your statement sound more like a question as the last words pitch up and die off. You go on, thinking there’s no way they are this dense, and they aren’t, but you might be. At the mention of the main characters being guys, they share a knowing look, silently communicating something to each other, leaving you out of their telepathic conversion. 

“Don’t make it weird! I read romance about all sorts of relationships,” they have matching stupid grins as they go back to munching on their food, letting you sit in your slight embarrassment at their implicative shared look. Minho gives that look that says, he’s trying to rile you up before askings nonchalantly, as if there are no intentions behind his words, 

“Wasn’t the last series you read yaoi as well?”

“I mean yeah, but Jisung recommended it! It was a good story,” Minho just gives a grunt of acknowledgement to say ‘sure whatever’. Jisung giggles at Minho’s antics, but doesn’t comment. He looks at you with a goofy smile and slight sympathy for the teasing as he searches your face for any signs that Minho is getting to you, but he of course is not. You’re used to banter from Minho, and honestly Jisung too. Maybe being away from you for so long had softened him up a bit, or maybe it was his favorite beer you had brought a case of. 

You thought it was the alcohol that buttered Jisung up, but instead the drinks just opened the razzing flood gates. The “bl lover” schtick continues through the evening. The poking fun is usually spread evenly among you three, and if one person becomes the butt of the joke for the night, it never continues to next week so as to not make anyone the punching bag. They love to tease, but are also very considerate about not crossing the line. The hippocratic taunting continues no matter how many times you remind them of all the yuri, yaoi, and straight romances they themselves had brought to book club. Later, when you play a few rounds of video games, they add ‘fujoshi’ to the normal colorful language they use to curse your name the times you end up winning. Sometimes you guys will pick a show to watch together, and although you guys decided to forgo that tonight in favor of catching up, you still pursue the streaming sites sharing insights to for next week, and they hover over every bl they come across and jokingly suggest it or ask you opinion as if you had already seen them all, or simply just stare in your direction with raised eyebrows. 

Around the time you usually excuse yourself and head home, you are all sitting around the coffee table finishing off the beer and munching on the snacks. You begin gathering your empty cans and miscellaneous trash, and the conversation abruptly halts as Min sternly questions your actions.

“Just wanted to clean up a bit before heading out,” you explain, rising to your knees to reach for some of their garbage since you’re already headed to the kitchen.

“You should stay here,” he says matter of factly shoving another chip into his mouth and gesturing to the empty beers in your arms, taking the rational approach. Jisung, with his sweet round eyes staring up at you, chimes in with the emotional persuasion. They make a great team.

“The couch is really comfy, I promise.”

“I’ve only had four of these beers over the past few hours, plus I took the bus here anyway,” attempting to politely decline. It would be nice not having to make the commute home at this hour, but you’d hate to burden them.

“The last bus is in 20 minutes, you’d have to run to the nearest stop,” Minho makes a good point, but the cringey thought of them having to kick you out the next morning allows you to remain stubborn, but before you can refuse again, Han’s words make your heart squeeze,

“We don’t want you to leave,” now you’re definitely staying. You still take the trash to the kitchen and sort out the recycling before grabbing one more round of beers from their stash upon the guys’ request. You resume chatting over some background music, occasionally singing along. While you are far from drunk, with the alcohol in your system, it's getting harder and harder to ignore how devastatingly good looking your two friends are. It doesn’t help that their frequent whispering back and forth gives you ample uninterrupted time to gawk. They are of course closer to each other than they are with you, but it does seem like they’ve been conspiring quite a bit more than usual. 

A chaste glance from Jisung breaks your trance. He turns back to Minho and it is your turn to look anywhere but at them, studying the rug, reading the nutrition facts on your drink, admiring the wall decor, looking away until you can get your blushing under control. Your efforts were all in vain, as when you finally look back towards the men across the table, you lock eyes with them as if they were waiting for your gaze to fall on them before doing the very last thing you ever would’ve expected. They stare back at you with a look commanding your eyes to remain locked on them as they turn to each other, already closer to one another than the last time you looked their way. Minho looks down to Han’s plush lips just as his tongue peaks out to moisten them putting on a sultry show for you. Minho gives a miniscule nod before they lean closer impossibly slow to drag out your suspense. 

Are they really doing this? Talk about committed to the bit. The moment their lips meet, you can’t help the gasp that escapes you, causing the corners of their connected lips to quirk up. This is exactly what they wanted. The kiss wasn’t long, but to you watching, it felt like an eternity. You tried to look away, but you just couldn't, maybe due to your own curiosity or maybe as to not disobey their silent order to watch. When they pull away a thin string of saliva still connecting them, the slightly raised corners of their spread to full faced grins at the sight of your hands shooting up to cover your flushing face.

“I think she liked it,” Jisung remarks, running his hands through his hair, pushing back the stands that fell out of place during the kiss. His typical silly, awkward self melting away leaving behind his confident, charismatic side you had seen on a few occasions, emboldened by him and his best friends scheme going just as they had hoped.

“I knew it,” Minho adds, even though you haven’t built up the courage to look at them, he sounds closer to you than before.

“She’s a freak just like we thought,” he adds, definitely closer. Once you gather the strength to uncover your face, you find your friends have moved to join you on your side of the table, one on either side near enough to feel the heat radiating off their bodies. Though they haven’t explicitly stated it, their intentions are beyond clear, their eyes hungrily wandering over you,

“Do you want this?” Minho questioned in a low and calm tone, tamping down his eagerness until you give him an answer,

“If not, we can blame this on the liquor and just move past it, pretend nothing even happened,” Jisung assures you, unable to conceal his brimming desire as well as Minho, his eyes locked on your lips as he reaches for your hand for support. Staring down at your intertwined fingers, you contemplate for a moment,

“I do, but—” you start, Minho’s hand slipping into your field to rest on your mid thigh, softly moving his fingers side to side in reassurance,

“What about our friendship? What about otaku club?” your query makes them giggle, embuing you with the strength to look up to their eyes. They are quick to answer, as if they prepared for this exact question beforehand, Jisung talks first,

“Nothing has to change if we don’t want it to,” he speaks into your hair as he leans in to plant a sweet kiss to the side of your skull, when Minho picks up where he left off,

“We really like you y/n, and love spending time with you. Whether we go back to the way it was or forge something new, we aren’t going anywhere. I’m not sure of anything beyond that, and that we’ve wanted this for a long time,” his words make your heart lurch. God you’ve wanted them too, but didn’t want to jeopardize the amazing relationship you had built. You know them. You trust them. You can navigate this together. A small nod of your head has Minho smashing his lips to yours, passionately enough to suck the air from your lungs.

His kiss is powerful and demanding while still being highly cognisant of your response and adjusting his fire to keep you comfortable. Your mingling lips quickly find timing against each other, his tongue gently coaxing your lips to part for him to explore you. Tingles flooding your body when his warm tongue finally touches yours. 

Jisung continues to kiss along the side of your head and down to your ear. He places feathery kisses over the cartilage, playfully nipping at your earlobe, careful to avoid your piercing. He lets out a happy sound when you squeeze the hand he’s still loyally gripping. He trails his kisses down to the soft spot below your ear before peppering your cheek, inching to your lips ready for his turn with your mouth. He gets close enough to catch the corner of your mouth in his before he’s able to bully Minho off you. You’re barely able to take a breath before Jisung’s lips are on yours. His movements are more timid but also more desperate, his need evident in his pace and little groans. This moment is better than you could've ever imagined. Despite Ji’s neediness, you are the one giving short licks at his full bottom lip asking for entrance, which he grants immediately. 

Minho has moved to your neck, sucking and kissing, his arm snaking around your waist pulling you closer to them. Arching into them, your hands slide up to rest on their built chests, and you can feel them both smiling against your skin. Your chest is heaving from the lack of oxygen and immense lust thick in the air.

“We should get off the floor; I fear if we don’t do it now, you’ll be bent over the coffee table,” Jisung suggests causing Minho to let out a hushed laugh. Despite knowing full well that is where the night is headed, you can’t help your coyness at his words. It’s hard to believe this is actually happening. Both men rise and extend hands to help your ascent, which you are more than grateful as the heady desire coursing through your veins has you feeling unsteady. They guide you to the hallway, shooting glances between one another, having one of their classic silent talks, but this time it seems more like an argument as you all stand at the point of the walkway where you have to decide which path to take to each of their rooms, knowing you will probably end up sleeping in whichever bed you land in. They attempt to make you choose, but you refuse to pick sides, both rooms are lovely and each bed equally comfortable. You just want to be with them. Minho makes the decision for you all when he drags you towards his room, just tired of trying to get two indecisive people to make a simple choice. 

Minho’s room is just as you remembered, simultaneously minimal but full of little pieces that make it full of character. There's no time to look at the new photos on the mirror or trinkets on the desk before you're playfully pushed towards the bed urging you to jump on, crawling to the center in order to make room for them, expecting them to follow you. But when you turn your back to the luxe pillows, you find yourself alone in the big bed with a cheek cramping grin on your face that melts when you see them removing their shirts and tossing them to the corner before approaching the end of the mattress staring down at you. Your mouth slightly agape as you take in their tan skin and sculpted builds, 

“This is so fucked up,” you strangle out of your drying throat, shaking your head in disbelief, and they just chuckle and move to join you. You sit legs outstretched in front of you, and they’re each on their knees sitting back on their ankles. They get you high on love, taking turns passing your lips back and forth, as the other plays with your hair, or rubs your shoulders, or simply lets their hands roam your torso. It is impossible to tell how long this went on, the only moments of clarity being when a gentle hand would guide you off one with a brief second for you to fill your lungs breath before connecting to the other. However, the makeout session is punctuated by the tug you feel on the bottom of your shirt to which to instinctively raise your arms for its removal which immediately follows, causing Jisung to groan, annoyed he had to release your lips before he was ready. 

Much to your dismay, neither pair of lips return to yours once you’ve been disrobed, the men just lean back to drink in the sight, causing your skin to burn impossibly hotter, your exposed chest flaring with redness that their eyes seemingly can’t be pulled from. If this is actually going to happen, you can’t be mortified the whole time,

“I swear, if you guys keep embarrassing me, we’ll have to stop. I can’t take it,” you half confess and half warn the pair, but it doesn’t shake their gazes.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jisung offers his apology but continues defiling you with his eyes.

“We’re just as shocked as you, jagi, just let us savor it,” Minho defends their staring while lightly scolding you right back. You start to feel cold from the lack of touch, but luckily, Jisung cracks, diving into the crook of your neck licking down, across your collarbone, to the crevice between your breasts before kissing up the swells. Minho takes a different approach. He shifts his seating and leans down. He pulls the waist of your pants just enough to expose your hip bone that he gives a hard open mouthed kiss before working his way up to meet Han, worshiping your tummy and waist. They meet at your chest, quickly going to work with their hands and mouths. Jisung’s more needy palming is juxtaposed by Minho's firm, but cautious grasping, as they work in tandem to kiss every inch from the base of your neck to your shoulders to your sternum before finally landing on your sensitive buds with just the most gentle of kisses causing the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding to release in a sigh. While they both had distinct styles, Jisung using wilder, sloppy strokes and Minho more direct and teasing, they were both gentle and attentive, causing your abdomen to tense, barely raising your shoulders off the cushions you rest against, and soft moans to pour from your lips.

When you compose yourself enough to look down at them, you once again find them staring at you, up through their thick lashes, pure adoration in their faces. The sight causes your head to fall back with a groan, mostly due to the absolutely errotic vision and feeling, but also partly at being tired of them being so damn perfect. Maybe you really were the pervert they imagined; this has to be some sort of hyper realistic wet dream. You have all been too consumed by lust to talk but Minho speaks up for the first time in a bit with a snarky remark,

“We can’t stop embarrassing you, if everything we do makes you embarrassed,” he chides against your velvety skin. Causing you to giggle and place your hand on his cheek and try to push him away in retribution, but he clamps down not hard enough to hurt, but when you start to push his head, it tugs on your nipple, hissing as your hand to fall limp at your side for him to continue his torture. 

At your submission, he lets out a sound of satisfaction and resumes his pilgrimage back the way he came, moving back down your body, hooking his fingers in your waistbands, and you rise for him to rid you of your final pieces of clothing. Jisung’s passionate tonguing winds back down to loud kisses and then to slightly shaking his head side to side, ghosting his softly smiling lips over the bud, pulling whimpers from your swollen lips. After a quick kiss, he shuffles around, to sit amongst the pillows, slotting you between his legs. Turning your head to the side, he gives a loving kiss to your temple before wrapping his arms around you, holding you to his front and lazily kissing up and down the column of your neck and shoulder. 

You between Jisung’s legs and Min between yours, the beautiful man is covering your hips and thighs with wet kisses. You gaze down and see Minho’s bunny pink lips inches from where you need him, hot breath fanning over your slick core, using his fingers to spread you, just admiring. You lean your head back to rest on Jisung’s shoulder to brace yourself for the incoming rush pleasure. As you anticipated, Min’s first probing lick already has you arching into his mouth, gasping, pushing back into the warm chest of the man behind you. All of the foreplay combined with the months of yearning have you reaching an unprecedented level of sensitivity; it won’t take much, especially with Minho’s skilled movements. He gives an arrogant huff against your cunt at the way he already has you squirming on his tongue sending delicious vibrations that only make you squirm harder. He skims his index finger up your thigh as a sign of what he is about to do, not wanting to shock you when he slides the finder inside just to the first knuckle. He slowly plunges it in and out while sucking mercilessly on your clit, drawing noises from you that will haunt his dreams for the foreseeable future.

Jisung is checking in regularly to which you always respond positively, but still Minho pumps the brakes for a brief moment to allow you to calm down a little. He moves to kissing over your silken folds before giving small, soft licks to either side of your clit, giving the perfect amount of pressure and teasing. Your eyes are screwed shut, and the breath is caught in your chest as you feel your climax barreling towards you. Pulled from you blissful rapture by Ji’s voice,

“Breathe, baby. Look at Minho; doesn’t he look so pretty?” His words alone could have made you cum, but when you peel your eyes open and raise you head to see the cat like man giving you the most seductive eyes, his nose and lips glistening in your essence, white hot pleasure explodes through your body with a flood of curses out of your lips. You lie there, panting, weak in Jiusung’s arms as he lightly drags his fingers up and down your arms and across your chest soothing your involuntary tremors. The sound of the condom wrapper being torn open reminds you of where you are. You see Minho finishing rolling on the protection on his flushed cock, and he shoots back a faux guilty look, like you’d caught him in a naughty act, he giggles before asking one last time,

“You want this?” He asks with a cheeky smirk, half confirming consent and half teasing out your desperation. You respond, over feeling bashful about your desires,

“So bad, babe,” with a grin, he grabs your hips and twists them, encouraging you to flip over on to all fours over Jisung who is smiling massive and genuinely up at you before puckering, asking for more kisses. Minho is kneading your ass probably the roughest he’d been all night, as he lines himself with your entrance. He teases you with the tip, dipping it in once, twice, and then rubbing it through your slick lips, causing you to whimper against Jisung. When he goes to enter, he takes it painfully slowly, inching in while raking his fingers down your back in a sign of affection, loving the way it makes you shiver,

“Minho you feel so—so good,” you sputter out, complimenting the way Minho makes your brain go fuzzy. He just gives a cocky hum back in response, trying to act cool, but truthfully he doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak. Your lips reconnect to Jisung’s as you reach down into his sweats to give him some well deserved attention. He lets out a long groan against your lips, bucking up into your hand. Minho’s fighting his moans, but they escape out in strangled grunts. His slow thrusts gain in speed as he grips tightly to you hips, but he remains fucking impossibly deep, leaning forward to kiss your shoulders and upper back, pushing you back to your climax. You and Jisung are trading sounds of pleasure into eachothers open mouths, pumping him in time with the thrusts, he’s lost in the pleasure, until his realizes his orgasm approaching at lightning speed, shocking him, and he begs for you to stop the twisting of your wrist,

“Please don’t make me cum. I want to fuck you so bad, please,” he's thankful when your hand flies from his cock to land on beside his head to you steady your shaking body. When he is sure your orgasm is passed, Minho frantically frees himself, ripping off the condom, and coming around to face you, kneeling, pumping himself to keep himself on the edge. Jisung shimmies out from under you allowing Minho to scoot closer looking at you with pleading eyes. You open for him and he is instantly in your mouth. You take him as far as you can, causing the saliva to build in your mouth to slick him up. You find your rhythm, occasionally focusing on the tip and swirling your tongue around it before returning to taking all of him. He is no longer holding back cries, groaning and hissing at your moves. He runs his fingers through your hair, before dragging his fingers down your cheek to caress your chin, staring down at you,

“So fucking gorgeous, feels so good,” your pattern of sucking and licking is harshly interrupted when you hear spitting and feel warm liquid slide down your cunt threatening to drip off before Hans’s flattends tongue licks a broad stripe up you slit, forcing a muffled shout to revererate from you and you to lurch forward in surprise. You lightly gag around Minho, catching you both by surprise. The motion causes Minho to paint your throat with a string of whines,

“Ah, ah, aaah—” You swallow, loving his taste. He dramatically falls to the bed with a look of pure bliss plastered on his face. He moves to you to bestow a few passionate kisses laced with gratitude to your puffy lips before rolling off the bed. You are too distracted by the euphoria flowing through you to see where he goes as Jisung is devouring you, every lick, languid but methodical, wanting to gather every last drop of your essence. It's messy and hot, and when you look down, between your legs, you not only Ji’s angry cock oozing precum, but the growing pool under you of your juices and his spit drooling off your pussy. You plea to him. You don’t want this to end, but you are so dumb on pleasure and needy, you want him inside you,

“Hannie, I need you inside, please,” but he doesn’t budge. He might be wanting to draw yet another orgasm from you, but it's more likely that he is too pussydrunk and is just hypnotized by your addictive taste and filthy sounds,

“Jisung, please,” you try again, as Minho enters again, holding waters and towels. After placing the goodies on the nightstand, he crawls back into bed beside you, admiring the salacious scene before him and your sweet sullied expression before nudging Jisung,

“Give the girl what she wants, before I do,” Ji releases your pussy with a wet pop and once again, your hips are grabbed, guiding you to flip over, this time having to aid you a bit more as your muscles are starting to give out. Jisung gives your forehead a kiss before aligning himself with your entrance, but is interrupted by the flying condom smacks him in the chest and falls to land on your stomach. He swiftly tears it open and rolls it on, embarrassed that he almost forgot, caught up in the moment as Minho shames him under his breath. Minho holds your chin to face him as Jisung slips in, watching you intently since he didn't get to see your face when he had his way with you. He holds your gaze, and when you try to close your eyes, he gently taps your cheek reminding you to return his gaze. Jisung is savagely pounding into you. He has been waiting for so long, as much as he wanted to be sensual like Minho, right now, he just couldn't hold back,

“You’re perfect, baby. Shit, i’m not gonna last,” he mumbles, thrust already getting erratic. Minho frees you when Jisung falls forward onto his forearms to cage you in, attacking your mouth with desperate kisses, the kissing shifts to just moaning and whimpering into each other as you both reach your highs, Jisung mumbling your name on repeat, looking almost as wrecked as you, giving a few final powerful thrusts before collapsing down to your other side. The room is quiet besides the heavy breathing as you all bask in the lustful aura, Min breaks the silence,

“I can speak for Jisung on this, when are the vows?” he chuckles out, causing you all to burst into breathy laughter. After cleaning up and hydrating, you all lay in bed together rolling around snuggling and kissing in the post-sex lovey state. Minho goes to the bathroom to complete his night time routine leaving you in bed with Jisung where you two giggle and take turns tracing imaginary patterns on each other's skin. When Minho returns dewy faced and in neat pajamas, Jisung leaves your side to do the same. Minho holds you tight against his side, your head resting on his chest as he hums, lips pressed into your hair. Jisung offers up some of his boxers and Minho provides a tshirt for you to sleep in, and then you too go wash up and brush your teeth and hair, trying not to get existential or horny while you stare at yourself in the mirror recounting the evening’s events. 

When you return, Minho is already under the covers on his side of the bed. He’s prepped the other side for you, pulling back the covers, giving you some extra pillows, and placing your water and a snack on the nightstand, but Ji is just sitting on the edge of the bed. When you approach he stands and opens his arms for a hug,

“I wanted to wait to say goodnight,” he offers. You can't help the look of disappointment,

“We all it fine on the bed earlier, so couldn’t you just stay? Is that okay?” you ask timidly, that embarrassment you’ve been able to shove down all flooding back since the emboldening lust has been quelled. Jisung doesn’t respond, simply pulls you into a tight embrace. You guess he wasn’t okay with that suggestion, but before you could tell him that it's fine to tell you no, he is tackling you onto the bed, and pulling the duvet up over all three of you causing Minho to give an exasperated sign. 

Breakfast was sure to be interesting, but as you lay curled around Jisung, his thick hair tickling your cheek with Minho pressed to your back, a strong arm slung over your waist resting on Ji’s side, the one thing you know is that you could definitely get used to this. Figuring this out was tomorrow's problem. 

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨(๑ > ᴗ < ๑)୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

pic creds x x x

A.n- Thanks for reading. This is a bit of a longer one. The longest thing I've written in fact. I just hava lot of felling about this. I hope it's not too niche/reaches the right ppl. I might try to re post this as two parts since its kind of long, so if you see that, mind your own business

-mo :)

Masterlist

[petertingle-yipyip]

WAITING ROOM - JOAQUIN TORRES

Pairing: Joaquin X Reader // Word Count: 2,282

Summary: It’s not easy to date a superhero, so you stop. But when your biggest fear actually happens, you can’t seem to stay away.

You were sitting in Joaquin’s desk chair, using your toes to spin slightly side to side. You were - again - waiting for him to come back from whatever assignment he had with Sam.

The hard part about dating a superhero-in-training was getting used to the potential life or death situations he put himself in.

Yes, he was capable. Yes, he was strong and brave. Yes, you admired what he did and loved him for it. But it was harder than you thought to make the adjustment.

Sleeping alone because he was out of town, saving someone who needed it. Eating alone because the mission went sideways. Caring for wounds he shouldn’t have gotten, but he couldn’t help the intel was outdated. Putting a smile on your face everytime he left with the promise of coming back in one piece. Those were the cuts that always bled.

How many nights had you stayed awake, waiting for him to walk in? How many nights did you stay awake when he was recovering in case he needed you? How much food had you left out to get cold because you just couldn’t eat? How many messages had you left on his phone when he didn’t come home on time?

How much longer could you do it?

He was back from training exactly when he said he would be. A rare occurrence that you were both glad for and dreading. You spun to face him and smiled.

“Hey.” He grinned and you felt a weight settle in your stomach. This conversation wouldn’t be easy. “Told you I’d be on time today.”

He passed by you to put his stuff away, making sure to stop and kiss the top of your head first.

“Joaquin?” You quietly tried for his attention while your eyes landed on your shoes. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about…”

“I already know.” He answered and your head snapped up. “Date night. We could try that new Mexican place? I’ve heard good things.”

“Oh…” Your gaze fell again. How could you forget date night?

You made your decision then. You could talk about it later. You shook your head and stood, plastering that fake smile again. No one breaks up on date night.

“Hang on.” He stepped in front of you, a hand on either of your shoulders. He scanned your face and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” You tried the smile again.

“It’s not nothing. I know that look. That’s the ‘I have to say something I don’t want to’… Oh, shit. Did someone die?”

If only it was that simple.

“No one’s dead.” You said honestly. “We can talk later, okay? It’s date night.”

“We’re not going anywhere until you talk to me, querida.”

You closed your eyes with a deep sigh.

“I need you to know it’s for the better.” You spoke, still hiding behind closed eyes. “Please know that.”

“You’re scaring me… What’s going on, Y/N?” He said quietly. He gave your shoulders a small squeeze and you had to force yourself to push his hands off. “Y/N?”

“It’s for the better.” You said again, turning away from Joaquin. You’d never be able to say it if you had to look into those damn eyes. “I love you, J. You know that, and I love what you do. I’m so proud of you. You’re a superhero. That’s amazing. But I…”

“Hey…” His hand landed on your arm but you pulled away almost immediately. “Did I do something?”

“No, you… Well, yes, but… I think we should consider taking a step back.” You finally managed. “You know it’s for the better.”

“I…”

“I want to be selfish. I want to ask you to pack it up and just be with me.” You forced yourself to face him despite the tears welling in your eyes. “But who am I to ask you for more? Sam needs you. You need this.” You gestured vaguely towards the door. “I know that, but I need you too.”

“You have me.” He reached for your hand and you let him take it. He placed your hand over his heart and held it there. “You have me.”

“I love you.” You cried.

“I love you, too.” His eyes were welling with tears of his own. “Don’t do this, Y/N.”

“It’s for the be-“

“No, it isn’t!” He cut in. “In what world is this better? You need me, right? That’s what you said. You need me. Well, I need you, too. Just- Just tell me what you need me to do, querida. Tell me, please.”

You shook your head. “I can’t… What I need you to do, I can’t ask you. I can wish all that I want, but I can’t bring us together, Joaquin. I can’t have you.”

“But you do.”

You pulled your hand free. You felt a deep cold settling under your skin, as if breaking up with Joaquin stole all the heat from your body. You watched him nod slightly and wipe his sleeve across his eyes.

“I love you.” You whispered. “You’re going to be the perfect Falcon. I always believed in you. That’ll never change.”

He forced a tight smile and then blew out a sigh. You reached a hand for his cheek and then thought better of it. You patted his chest instead before leaving.

You didn’t talk to Joaquin much after that. There were a few exchanges, sending something the other thought was funny. Joaquin sent a picture of the skyline when you assumed he was flying. You liked that he still thought of you in those moments. He even tried to call you once or twice. You hadn’t answered either attempts, but he did leave a voicemail that you hadn’t listened to.

Something about hearing his voice would leave you missing him all the more.

It was a few weeks after the break up that you got the call.

“Y/N?” Sam spoke quickly, anxiously. The background sounded busy so you assumed he was on mission. But if Sam was calling you during a mission…

“Sam?” You answered with the same urgency. “What’s wrong?”

“He went down.”

“What?”

Everything in your body ran cold. Your worst fear was happening on the other end of the call, taunting you from a distance you just couldn’t reach. Your kind just kept repeating one simple word.

Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.

“I’ll send you the address. Get there as soon as you can.”

“Wait.” You tried but the call ended.

Your phone buzzed with the address and you were shoving your feet into the closest pair of shoes. Snatching your purse, you stumbled over untied laces on your way out the door.

Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.

Miraculously, you arrived at the hospital without a speeding ticket. The receptionist directed you to the room and your heart stopped in your chest when you got to the viewing area.

“Dear God…” You whispered.

Sam came to your side and put a gentle hand on your back. You practically threw yourself at him. You hugged your friend tightly and he returned the embrace.

“He’s gotta be okay.” You cried against him. “I need him to be okay.”

“He’s a tough kid.” Sam offered. “He’ll pull through.”

“How do you know?” You leaned away to look at Sam.

“Cause he knows you need him.” Sam gave a strained smile. “And he’s stubborn.”

You chuckled weakly. “I thought it’d be better if we broke up.”

You and Sam went back to the window. Watching the doctors move efficiently, seeing the tubes sticking out of him, glimpsing the numbers for his vitals. It all felt like a sledgehammer in your chest. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were wrong. Wrong to break up with him, wrong to not be stronger, wrong to walk away from him.

He wanted to fight for your relationship. He was willing to do whatever you had asked. He begged you to stay and all you could say was ‘It’s for the better’.

Looking at him in that state, how was anything better?

You curled up in one of the chairs on the other side of the room. You stared at the wall, tears quietly falling in steady streams, until your eyes were so dry and heavy you had to close them. Even in sleep, your mind was on Joaquin.

Sam eventually shook you awake and led you to Joaquin’s new room.

“How’d he do?” You asked quietly.

“Doctors had to restart his heart.” Sam confessed.

You stumbled over your still untied laces.

“Did he tell you the last thing I said to him?” You said weakly, practically clinging to your friend. “That I loved him and I’d always believe in him… Right before I walked away from him. What if he had died, Sam? What if they couldn’t get his heart going again? The last thing I said would’ve been breaking up with him.”

“Y/N…” Sam stopped in front of the door and frowned at you. “Right now, he’s gonna need you. I’m in the middle of some heavy shit, so you need to step up for his sake.”

“He won’t want to see me.”

“Last time he called you, you didn’t answer. He left you a voicemail. You ever listen to it?”

You shook your head.

“Go in there and listen to it. If you can tell me he wouldn’t wanna see you after, then you won’t have to come back.”

You sighed in resignation. Truthfully, you were too mentally drained to argue anymore. You shook your phone in silent confirmation and snuck into the room. The door clicked shut behind you and you settled into one of the chairs.

“If you wanted me to come around, you didn’t have to get shot out the sky, J.” You tried to joke, though you were the only one to hear it. “You always were dramatic though, huh? … You better pull through, or else I’m going to the afterlife and dragging you back by your ear.”

You sunk deeper into the chair and pulled up the voicemail.

‘Hey, Y/N! I guess I didn’t really expect you to answer. Kinda hoped you would, though. Just so I could hear your voice again… Hey! I, uh, I was flying earlier with Sam and I just couldn’t help thinking that you would hate it.’

He laughed a little and your heart ached. You scooted the chair a little closer to prop your feet against the bed frame and keep a gentle hold of his hand.

‘I know you kept saying it was for the better, but not a day has gone by without me thinking of you… I miss you, y’know? I come back from training or something and I- I look for you still. I check my phone for your text. I found your sweatshirt in my car and I almost started crying… Just call me back. Maybe? If you want. Huh?’

There was a bit of background conversation. You could just make out your name and some light teasing. Whatever Sam was saying, you couldn’t quite make out but judging by Joaquin’s embarrassed laugh, it was poking fun at him calling you.

‘I gotta go, but… Call me back? Okay, bye.’

You locked your phone and leaned your head back with a heavy sigh. Your heavy eyes closed again.

“For the better, my ass.” You muttered.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep again. The emotional rollercoaster of the day wore on you more than you had expected. There hadn’t even been time to fight the second nap.

The only thing that drew you out of it was the light squeeze of your hand. Your eyes snapped open and you sat up quickly. The bright sun coming through the windows blinded you momentarily.

A hospital room, the beeping of the heart monitor, the faint smell of sanitizer, a warm hand in yours.

“This is what it takes for you to come by, huh?” He asked playfully, a rasp in his voice that made your heart lurch.

“You idiot!” You scolded quietly. The aforementioned idiot smiled. “You could’ve died, J!”

“But I didn’t.” He offered with that stupid smile on his face still.

“Stop smiling! This is serious! If you had died, I don’t know what I would’ve done.” You admitted quickly. Being in that hospital, seeing the doctors restart his heart, it put everything into a new perspective. “Goddammit, Joaquin. I love your dumbass and you decide to get shot out the sky over the ocean! You’re lucky to have survived!”

“Y/N, I-“

“No, this is where you listen.” You said firmly. Tears were welling in your eyes so you dropped your gaze to the floor. Joaquin squeezed your hand slightly in response. “I thought it was selfish to keep you to myself. And, yeah, maybe it is. But I am selfish. I don’t want to share you with the world… I will, because I have to. Because you’re the Falcon and you’ve earned that.”

You forced your eyes up, ignored the tears down your cheeks, just so you could see Joaquin’s expression. His smile had fallen by then and his eyes were wide and attentive.

“You deserve to live your dream, J.”

“You’re my dream, querida.” He said softly. “I don’t want to do this without you.”

“I need you to live.” You stated plainly. “You’ll get hurt and you’ll be gone late and you’ll be off-grid sometimes. But you have to live.”

“If I’m coming home to you, I’ll live as long as you’ll have me.” He chuckled weakly. “I love you, Y/N.”

“This is for the better.” You nodded. “I love you, J.”

[emeraldserenade]

Could you write something where Joaquin and reader have a bet on who can go the longest without touching each other? 😂

The Game ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: you two make a stupid bet, one that barely lasts 24 hours.

tw: fem!reader, reader has long nails, smut (18+), reader barely understands Spanish, barely edited smut tw: marking, unprotected p in v, creampie, belly bulge,

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Guys, I've never written smut before this (or at least not good smut) so I'm so sorry if this is so bad. If you feel so compelled to give me tips, please at least make them nice. I am always open to ways to get better with my writing. AND just a reminder, I am always open to requests but I cannot promise they will be done in a timely manner. Please read my requests rules and things before you make a request please!

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Joaquín just had to open his mouth, it started out simple. You two were just relaxing on the couch when he started running his hand up and down your thigh. Slowly inching closer up and inward, you let out a small laugh.

"You're insatiable," you laughed, as you gently kicked his leg.

"I am not," he countered and you just raised your eyebrows at him.

"If you're so sure, why not make it a game?" You challenged him.

"What game?"

"How long can you go without touching me," you told him.

"Goes for you too, you can't touch me either," Joaquín told you and you laughed.

"I would expect nothing less. I do think we should lay some ground rules," you told him.

"This only applies to intimate touches," Joaquín pointed out and you nodded.

"Hand holding doesn't count and neither does normal everyday touches," you told him. You two went over the rules you both agreed on for a little before you settled back into the silence that was over you before hand.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Joaquín, what's up with you, man? You've been on edge all day," Sam got tired of Joaquín's constant fidgeting and the way he was glancing at his phone.

"Nothing, just," Joaquín stopped talking and Sam looked over at him.

"Just what?"

"I made a stupid bet with my girl about who could go longer without touching the other," Joaquín relented from withholding the information.

"Really, man? That's just stupid," Sam laughed.

"I know, it's only been a day and I'm already tired of it," Joaquín spun in his chair to face Sam.

"Just give in then," Sam stated it like it was to most obvious thing in the world.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Just give in then! My gods!" Your coworker was tired of you complaining about your bet.

"It's not that simple Dani," you turned to face her.

"Why not?" She put her hands on her hips.

"My pride is on the line!"

"You're pride?" She turned towards you other coworker, Patty. "Do you hear this? Her pride is the reason we are subjected to her yapping on and on about how she's tired of this bet," Dani threw her hands up in the air.

"Dani, you don't understand," you sighed.

"What am I not understanding?"

"I was the one who decided to make it into a game, I started this because I called him insatiable. If I give in then it's like I was projecting!" You ranted, placing your head into your hands.

"My gods, we're stuck listening to this," Dani sighed and you gave her an apologetic smile.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You and Joaquín had been avoiding touching each other, even innocent touches, since you both got home. You two were making dinner but it was lacking the gentle kisses, touches, the way you two would brush against each other to just be able to be close. It didn't take as long as normal to make dinner, probably because you two weren't getting distracted by each other.

"Can we-" "Are you-" you both tried talking at the same time as you let dinner just simmer on the stove.

"You go first, Amor," you told Joaquín, leaning against the counter and watched him gather is resolve.

"Can we just both agree this was a stupid bet and to end it?" Joaquín slowly reached toward you and you relented and stepped foreword.

"God yes," you let him pull you to him.

"What were you going to say?"

"I was going to ask if you were ok with just calling this bet off," you told him. You felt him push his hands up your shirt, letting them rest on the skin of your waist. You did the same but gently pushed your fingertips in the waistband of his jeans. The feeling of your nails gently digging into his skin was intoxicating to Joaquín, his hold on your waist tightened ever so slightly. You two stood there, just holding each other until the timer went off and you two reluctantly pulled away.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You gasped as Joaquín basically pounced on you, he had told you that he would clean up dinner so you went to the bedroom to change. You were in nothing but your panties when Joaquín had walked into the room, and after your bet he couldn't help himself. He had walked up behind you and gently kissed your neck as his arms wrapped around you.

"Oh my," your head lolled back as he ran his touch from the base of your neck to the sensitive spot below your ear. You gently raised your hand up to grip his hair as he bit and licked your neck and shoulders. You let out a particularly loud gasp as Joaquín bit your neck a little harder than normal.

"Sorry, Angel," Joaquín mumbled against your neck as you pressed yourself closer to him. "Can't help myself," he told you as he spun your around to face him. You ran your hands over his chest and pushed the jacket he was wearing off his shoulders, he removed it the rest of the way. His shirt followed as you undid his belt and pants, which he kicked off once you had them pushed down. He pushed you down on the bed, falling to his knees in front of you. He gently leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your clit over your panties. He chuckled when your hips bucked, trying to chase the stimulation you were desperate for.

"Joaquín, please," you ran your fingers through his hair, letting your nails gently scrape across his scalp. He hooked his fingers in the band of your panties and pulled them down. He carelessly tossed them behind him somewhere, you would find them on top of your dresser later. Joaquín was normally gentle, focusing all his attention on making you comfortable and feeling good. But this time, he eat you out like a man starved and in a way you guessed he was. It was messy and fast, the way he licked and kissed and sucked your clit. The way he pushed a finger into you before adding another, you arched your back and gripped his hair tighter.

You heard his groan as you gently pulled his hair, the vibrations adding to your own pleasure. "Come on, Angel, let go," Joaquín pulled away just enough to tell you before diving back in. Your gasps and moans intensified as he sped up his movements, moments later you felt the familiar pressure and fluttery feeling in your lower abdomen.

"Oh, god, Joaquín," your moan broke your sentence off. "I'm cumming, oh god, Joaquín!" You shouted his name as your orgasm washed over you as your legs gently shook. Joaquín helped you through the aftershocks, slowing his movements down as they slowed. Joaquín placed one more gentle kiss to your clit, causing your hips to buck again, before he fully pulled away. He lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, licking his lips afterward. You caught your breath as you watched Joaquín pull his boxers down, all progress was lost when you took in the full sight of your boyfriend. It didn't matter how many times you have seen him naked, it always took your breath away. Your eyes roamed over him as he slowly moved closer to you, your eyes stopped on the red, leaking head of his dick. All 6 and 1/2 inches hard and ready for you, you had to hold back a moan just from looking at it.

"You ready, Angel?" Joaquín chuckled at the fact you were staring, the head of his dick gently pressing against your swollen lower lips. You eyes found his, admiring the flush on his face and the glistening of his lips from when he licked them clean.

"Yes, please, I need you," you begged, your expression boarding on fucked out. Joaquín kissed you as he inched himself in, the stretch was welcome and ripped a moan from your throat. When he bottomed out, he gave you a few moments before he pulled out to the point where only his tip was in before slamming back into you. He kept his pace, his head hitting your g-spot and slamming into your cervix with each thrust. His hands held onto your waist as you held onto his shoulders.

You two were a moaning mess, you were sure your asshole neighbors would complain later but you didn't care. "Look at you, all fucked out and taking me like the good girl you are," Joaquín praised you. "So fucking pretty, look at you," he grabbed your chin and kissed you, you smiled into it as you ran your nails down his back. Joaquín kept praising you, both in English and Spanish. "Come on, Angel, dime que eres mio."

You barely understood Spanish, but you knew enough to know what he was telling you. "I'm yours, god, I'm yours, Joaquín," you moaned, the pleasure causing tears to run down your face. Joaquín moved one hand to press against your lower stomach, he felt his dick hit his hand and smiled when your moans got louder. Between the pressure of his hand, the fact that his tip was running against your g-spot, and the way he hit your cervix you knew you wouldn't last much longer. You were proven right when he let go of your hip with his other hand and started to rub tight circles on your clit. "I'm gonna cum," you yelped as Joaquín thrusted into you particularly rough accompanied by the tight circles.

"Wait for me, Angel, can you do that?" Joaquín watched as you nodded, your face twisting in determination to hold off your orgasm until he told you to. You felt the way his thrusts became more erratic and you pulled him down by his shoulders to kiss him. It was messy and rough, all clashing lips and teeth. "Let go for me, Angel," Joaquín mumbled against your lips and you came with a shout. Joaquín was right behind you, his hips flush against yours and your name falling from his lips like a prayer. Joaquín collapsed on you, his weight a welcome feeling as you wrapped your arms around him.

"I love you," you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He had a layer of sweat on him and you were sure you did too.

"Te quiero más," Joaquín replied before he got up and pulled out of you, causing you both to lightly hiss at the feeling. Joaquín moved you to lay correctly on the bed before walking into the bathroom. He emerged from the bathroom moments later with a warm damp towel, you whimpered as he cleaned you up. "I know, I'm sorry," he comforted you before leaving to throw the towel in the basket you had in the bathroom.

Joaquín got in bed beside you, pulling you to him as he got comfortable. You two shared no words, just occasional light kisses to whatever part of each other you could reach. You fell asleep first, your even breathing lulling Joaquín to sleep not long after. His last thought before he was asleep was how you were right, he was insatiable but so were you.

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Masterlist | Requests

[glowettee]

✧˖° the identity shift: start thinking like an A+ student

post 1

💭 before you even touch your notes, before you highlight a single word, before you drown in exam stress. change how you think about yourself.

most people study with the mindset of “i hope i do well” instead of “i am the kind of person who excels.” and that’s the difference. if you want to start acing your exams, your first step isn’t flashcards or practice tests. it’s shifting your identity. because an A+ student doesn’t just work hard, they think, act, and exist differently.

this is the second post to the final exam survival series. the last post, was focused on how to actually enjoy learning and using that to motivate yourself for school. this post will focus on shifting your identify, which can also work great for manifesting and law of attraction/assumption. i will try to give you the best possible tips to help you shift your mindset to already have the A+ mentality. love you guys <3 - mindy

disclaimer: please don't think i expect you to be perfect, i use 'A+ student' as a way to help you when using loa or manifesting. YOU ARE A HUMAN; DO NOT THINK YOU NEED TO MEET STANDARDS TO BE PERFECT! i love you all and wanted to make sure you know i am NOT setting an unrealistic standard. this post is to help you with manifesting good grades and to inspire you. not for toxic motivation or unrealistic standard setting. - mindy

✧˖° ➼ 01. stop identifying as “bad at studying”

you will never outperform the identity you attach to yourself. if you keep telling yourself: ➝ “i suck at this subject.”➝ “i’ve never been good at exams.”➝ “i’m just not a naturally smart person.”

then you’ll stay stuck. why? because your brain is wired to prove yourself right. but when you shift to: ➝ “i am fully capable of mastering this material.”➝ “i am becoming an A+ student.”➝ “i study in a way that works for me.”

your actions start aligning with that belief. the way you approach studying changes. and suddenly? you’re not “bad at it” anymore.

✧ homework: rewrite every negative academic belief you’ve held about yourself into a new, empowering one. read them before every study session.

✧˖° ➼ 02. start acting like an A+ student right now

not when you feel “ready.” not when you’re already good at the subject. right now.

✨ an A+ student doesn’t: • cram the night before and hope for the best • avoid studying because it feels overwhelming • rely on last-minute motivation to get things done

✨ an A+ student does: • plan their study sessions like an actual strategy • break down material into small, digestible pieces • work consistently, even when they don’t “feel like it”

✧ homework: take one small action today that your A+ student self would take. even if it’s just organizing your study space or making a realistic revision schedule.

✧˖° ➼ 03. use strategic learning, not just memorization

most students study to remember. A+ students study to understand. if you keep forcing yourself to memorize facts with no deeper connection, you’re setting yourself up for forgetting everything under pressure.

🖇 better study strategies:• teach the material → pretend you're tutoring someone who knows nothing about it. if you can explain it simply, you truly understand it. • apply what you learn → don’t just read about a formula, actually use it in practice questions. don’t just memorize historical dates, understand their impact. • switch up your methods → your brain loves novelty. use diagrams, study cards, summarization, and active recall instead of just rereading notes.

✧ homework: find one concept you’ve been struggling with and try teaching it to yourself out loud as if you were giving a TED talk.

✧˖° ➼ 04. start believing you deserve high grades

subconsciously, a lot of people don’t actually believe they’re the kind of person who gets top marks. they might think: ❝ i’ve never been a straight-A student, so why start now? ❞ ❝ my past grades weren’t amazing, i probably won’t do much better. ❞

but what if you let yourself believe otherwise? what if you fully accepted that you deserve to succeed just as much as anyone else? because you do. and the moment you believe that, you start acting in ways that make it true.

✧ homework: visualize yourself receiving your dream grade. feel the confidence of knowing you earned it. then ask yourself: what would my future self tell me to start doing right now?

✧˖° ➼ 05. control your environment like a top student

your surroundings play a huge role in your academic identity. A+ students set themselves up for success by designing an environment that makes focus effortless.

🖇 small shifts that make a huge difference: • keep your study space clean & minimal (no distractions) • use a dedicated study playlist to trigger focus mode • have a go-to beverage (tea, coffee, water) to make studying feel like a ritual • wear comfortable but put-together clothes to signal to your brain that it’s time to work • remove your phone from your workspace entirely (or use app blockers)

✧ homework: make one intentional change to your study environment today. observe how it affects your focus.

✧˖° ➼ 06. stop waiting for motivation

A+ students know that motivation is fleeting. they don’t rely on feeling “in the mood” to study. instead, they: ➝ create systems (set study times, routines) ➝ make studying automatic (habit, not a debate) ➝ use momentum (just start. five minutes can turn into an hour)

✧ homework: set a 10-minute timer and study right now. no overthinking, no debating. just start.

✧˖° mindy’s personal tips

💌 your identity is everything. if you don’t believe you’re an A+ student yet, start acting like it anyway. your mindset will catch up. 💌 make studying feel aesthetic. wear cute study outfits, light a candle, make it a whole vibe. enjoyable studying = effective studying. 💌 romanticize the glow-up. your academic transformation is a story. imagine looking back and realizing this was the moment everything changed. 💌 you are not behind. you can reinvent yourself as a top student at any time. even now. even today.

xoxo mindy

[invisiblefoxfire]

Every time I see posts on this subject I feel like I'm losing my mind.

Blood tests and skin tests for allergies are all negative except grass pollen, one type of tree pollen (not birch though), and argenine kinase (a chemical exuded by arthropods including dust mites - so I react to dust, but it's not the dust or the mites, but this chemical).

I have allergy symptoms in response to a very, very long list of things. I have to have scent-free everything when it comes to soaps and detergents. I can't go near wool or feathers. There's a ton of foods that set me off. I get wheezy and my face turns red and itchy whenever I smell any kind of perfume or flowers. I break out in mild hives when I come into contact with anything non-hypoallergenic. I have chronic GERD and IBS that both get set off seemingly at random. None of the symptoms land me in the hospital, but I constantly feel like I'm half-dead.

I found a great allergist who took me seriously, said it can absolutely be a mast cell issue, and started sending me for blood tests.

Negative. Negative. Negative. Every tryptase test: normal. He even sent me for some new specialized tests that act on the mast cells themselves and try to get a reaction from them.

Negative. Everything negative forever.

I take desloratadine every day, sometimes a double dose. It only just barely takes the edge off, but if I don't take it, my symptoms get dramatically worse, including my GI issues and wheeziness. I have tried to combine it with other antihistamines but I can't tolerate any other histamines, literally all of them either trigger more allergy symptoms or give me nasty side effects.

After nearly a year of investigation and testing, the allergist finally said he doesn't think I have a mast cell issue. My test results are too consistent, and too far within the normal range. My symptoms are a burden and make my life low-level miserable at all times, but he says all we can do at this point is just make sure I am well stocked on desloratadine and keep an eye on things in case they get worse. Then he laughs and says "you need Doctor House I guess!" Hilarious how often doctors say that to me. Just hilarious.

Then at the same time, I've got ADHD and hypermobile joints and chronic joint pain that never ever ever stops, and I am always injuring connective tissues doing stupid shit like standing up from a chair. The muscles in some parts of my body are rock hard despite almost no exercise, and randomly cramp up from the tension, but my doctors have never heard of muscles splinting joints and seem to think I'm making that up. I've never dislocated or subluxated a joint, I'm not aware of any family members having an EDS diagnosis (but we haven't spoken in years at this point), and I'm not quite bendy enough for any GP to feel comfortable diagnosing me with hEDS. And there isn't a single EDS specialist in this entire country. The only thing that helps with the pain is ibuprofen, which I can't take often because it triggers my acid reflux, so it's a daily choice of what kind of suffering I prefer.

My psychiatrist (ADHD specialist with plenty of patients with these comorbidities) has noted that I very well may have hEDS and/or MCAS, presenting somewhat atypically, and if I do, it would be very important to find out and get it diagnosed, because both of those conditions make me more susceptible to things like long covid, and if I could get a diagnosis on record, I would have access to things like cheaper (or free) vaccines for a variety of conditions. It would also make it much easier for me to get a long covid diagnosis, given how much more severe my chronic fatigue has been since the one time I caught it. But... he doesn't know enough to diagnose me himself, and he doesn't know where to send me. Because this country just doesn't have the specialists.

I feel like I'm losing my mind. I guess I'm just supposed to suffer forever and try not to complain too much. 🙃

The scent post reminded me that I've got an allergy ask and as you're kind of an expert on that by misfortune, I thought I could ask you🙃

Is it possible to have "allergic" reactions that don't show up in allergy tests?

Like, I've been getting progressively worse reactions to pollen (itching face, eyes and throat, watering swollen red eyes, runny nose, scratchy tight throat, fatigue and migraine for the rest of the day even if I've only been outside for 20min, etc.) but the allergy panel (the basic skin scratch thingy) by my ENT didn't show any histamine reaction to any of the tested pollen / other common allergens. So, ENT just shrugged his shoulders and sent me off with no solution.

As I also get similar reactions (+ extra nausea, it's fun) to scents, so is this not an allergy, "just" unspecific reactions to anything in the air?

Oh yeah, that’s basically the entire deal with MCAS.

Those allergy tests, including the blood ones are only checking for IgE mediated allergic reactions, when in reality, allergic reactions can be triggered by a whole host of non-IgE mediators.

None of the things I have anaphylaxis to are IgE mediated. It’s the other parts of my mast cells breaking down and causing an inflammatory response which culminates in an allergic reaction. Some doctors will claim that it’s not a “true” allergic reaction unless you have a recordable IgE on paper, either from a scratch test or blood test, they claim the other reactions are “sensitivities.”

I always respond, “well those sensitivities require me to use a. Epi pen,” and they kind of grumble and put it down in my file as an allergy.

Even if you don’t need an epi pen, those are still inflammatory reactions mediated by your mast cell response. It’s an allergy, just not in any way they can currently test for.

[bonbonly]

bon you can’t ask us for narsty thoughts, i’ve just been rotating the idea of college!jenson in my mind since you mentioned it the other day. no thoughts beyond would….

okay this is LONGGGG overdue now that i think about it

bon's thoughts (18+)

college!jenson button is the type of guy that all the girls know to stay away from, not because he's a bad person - no in fact, he's the sweetest guy and he's extra sweet when he's made up his mind to fuck your pretty tight cunt.

everyone knows about his reputation, every girl knows that he's only there for sex but no one's going to stop him, i mean come on now have you seen his face? there are people gossiping about him, whispering rumors they heard about him from the girls that were lucky enough to have his cock shoving his cum deep inside their creamy pussies.

and the stars might've aligned almost immediately when he sees you walking down the hallway after lecture one day, your ass bouncing under that skirt. he's following you from a distance, noticing the way you look a bit distracted and much to his luck, you drop your textbooks on accident and bend down to pick them up.

"oh fuck," he groans under his breath, his hands aching to reach out and knead your soft flesh. he rushes to stand besides you, crouching down to help you with your things as he flashes you a smile, "hi, im jenson! you new here?"

"yeah, i am! was it that obvious?" you snicker. of course it was obvious, a cute dumb little thing like you all lost and bending down like that waiting to grab any man's attention. he's so focused on wanting to shove you against the wall and fuck you in front of everyone that he doesn't realize you've been yapping to him for a while, asking him the same question again and again.

"uh, uh im sorry?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, "can you repeat that?"

"do you take intro to oral communication?" you ask, "its a GEP i have to take but i can't really speak things properly, much less for a speech in front of everyone."

he grins widely at your words, already picturing the sight of you in his bedroom on your knees with his cock deep inside your mouth, lips all plump and swollen and tits covered in his cum with tears spilling down your cheeks.

"i took it last year," he smiles, "and i'm always down to help if you want, why don't i give you my number and address yeah? you can come over tomorrow."

you nod your head eagerly, pulling out your phone completely unaware that your pussy was going to walk out the next day stuffed with 3 rounds of his cum and he might be cheeky enough to get you a butt plug so everyone knows for sure who you belong to from now on.

[xoxoaugust]

holidays

pro footballer!rin itoshi x childhoodbsf!reader

now playing : holidays by Conan Gray

-▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10

years have passed since the two of you have seen each other

December 23rd, 2023

You have just landed at the airport, frankly exhausted and drained. Visiting home for the holidays after maybe five years of being away for school, now work. You called your mom, telling her that you’ll be home in a bit since you had just landed.

Tightening your coat around you, you walked out of the airport to find your uber to finally take you home. Sniffling a bit from the cold and taking in the scenery, your mind drifts off to old memories. Snowball fights and putting up wreaths, you really missed it, you missed being a naive little kid.

Your nostalgic break was interrupted by your uber, which finally pulled up to take you home. Staring out the window, you would mentally point out buildings that you remembered from five years ago. Your school, your favorite store, favorite restaurants. You snapped out of the daze you were in and checked your phone for any texts. It was around midnight so you assumed there wouldn’t be any, but unbeknownst to you, a text from an unexpected send would be waiting for you.

12:47 AM

no caller ID

Hey, is this y/n?

You

Who is this??

no caller ID

I don’t think I need to say, I just need to know if this is y/n

You

Then you don’t get to know if this y/n

no caller ID

This is Rin Itoshi.

You

Rin???

Rin Itoshi

Yes?? Can I know if this is y/n now?

You

Yes it’s me, it’s been a while! I haven’t seen you in ages

Rin Itoshi

Yeah I know, I wanted to ask if you’re back in town for holiday season

You

Yeah I am, im gonna be here for around two weeks!

Rin Itoshi

I’m here for two weeks too, we should catch up soon

You

Of course! Let me know if you have a place to go!

Rin Itoshi

👍

You caught yourself smiling at your phone, same old Rin.

You still remember how your childhood best friend was then, and he hasn’t changed. The same considerate nature, the cold demeanor hasn’t changed but his heart was always in the right place. He was always thinking of others, he was the first to remember what people liked and disliked.

In elementary school, people thought he was weird. Falling over on purpose, for fun? Or maybe attention? It was weird, but you didn’t care. You would fall over with him, you would give him bandaids, making sure you always had matching bandaids. You watched him play soccer with his brother, in awe of his talent. You were his number one supporter through and through. The two of you always got popsicles together, that was your favorite thing to do after every hangout. Rin treasures those memories, getting popsicles with you and his older brother.

In middle school/junior high, the two of you got even closer, inseparable even. Everyday after school, the two of you would go off and do whatever. Get food, play soccer, stop by that one cafe that served the coffee that was too bitter for the two of you, so you’d end up getting hot chocolate and writing latte on the cup. Those were the days you’d never forget. You remember going to the airport with Rin to say goodbye to Sae. You also remember how Rin’s face was dull afterwards, so you took him to get popsicles. That’s when you vowed to yourself that you would never let him feel sad like that again.

Come high school, things hadn’t changed between you two, until Sae’s return. Prior to Sae’s return, you would hangout after school at the fields to help him get better at soccer, then go to his house so he could get changed, then go to the cafe so you could “study”. You always had to order for him because he was always too tired to say anything to anyone other than you. Then he would complain about the coffee being too bitter and tasting weird. You would roll your eyes and tell him to order something else, but he never did. That was your little routine everyday for about a year, until Sae. One day he had told you that we would be practicing a little extra that day so you should just wait at the cafe. You waited maybe two hours before deciding to go to the field to make sure he’s okay. News flash, he was far from okay. As you approached the field, you saw two figures conversing. It didn’t take you a while to realize it was Sae, you had grown up with him so you knew it was him. You looked at Rin directly, an unusual distressed look on his face. Before you could move any further, Sae started dribbling the ball to the goal. You watched the situation unfold before your eyes in horror. The defeated look on Rin’s face made it a thousand times worse. You watched Sae walk away, leaving Rin on the ground in shambles. Within seconds, you were on the field in front of Rin, trying to comfort him, trying to make him laugh or smile in any way. He didn’t smile, or laugh at all, he didn’t smile or laugh as much onwards. Your daily hangouts went from fun and laughter and conversation, to just soccer. You missed your Rin a lot, but you knew that he needed someone to rely on. You were always there to listen to what he had to say or complain about. It wasn’t long before he was offered a spot at Blue Lock, and you were off to college. You hadn’t kept in touch, mostly because he wasn’t allowed a phone and you had changed your number since then, plus you went to college in London m. It had been five whole years since you two had spoken, at all.

Your daydreaming was cut short when the Uber had finally pulled up to your driveway. You thanked the driver and grabbed your luggage. Taking in the reality that you’re actually back home, you smiled seeing how everything is just as you left it. You sighed contently, your breath visible due to the crisp cold weather outside. Walking up to the steps of your front patio, you felt warm inside. Everything was blissful as it was, just like when you were younger. Ringing the doorbell, your mother opened the door excitedly, ushering you inside. Though it was your first time back home in a while, your family had come to visit you a few times since you were too busy to go visit them, but it had still been a while since you had seen them. You sat down on the couch in the living room, a cup of hot cocoa in your hands (courtesy of your mother) catching up with your siblings. It was maybe 2:15 AM when you had said goodnight and went to your room. Your room was the same, nothing was moved, definitely cleaned but not moved. You placed your bags in the corner of your room, deciding to take a quick shower after smelling yourself. The ‘quick shower’ was 45 minutes. You got dressed and flopped onto your bed, slightly sore from the uncomfortable plane seats. You picked up your phone to place it on the charger.

3:04 AM

Rin

Hey, does Cherrywood work for tomorrow?

You

Yes! What time do you prefer?

Rin

Does 3:30 work for you? I know you’ll be tired from jet lag.

You

Yes that works! I will see you then, bye!!

Rin

Bye :)

You smiled at your phone before setting it down on the bedside table and falling fast asleep.

That same morning, you woke up around 11:30 AM. The exhaustion in your body had left, but you were physically sore. You mustered the energy to get up and make a coffee and a light breakfast, knowing that you would meet with Rin soon for a late lunch anyway.

You noticed the extra energy you were spending on getting ready. The strong perfume you had applied, remembering that Rin liked strong and bold perfumes. The extra jewelry and effort into your look was evident. You weren’t doing it for him, not for attention or anything, it was for you. You and Rin were eerily similar but just as different. You liked soccer, so did he, but he was obsessed with it. He liked strong perfumes very much, and so did you. It wasn’t liking something because someone likes it, but finding common ground and interest with a close friend.

The clock struck three o’clock and you got into your car, driving towards the place you knew oh so well. Having thirty minutes of leeway, you knew you only really had fifteen, because Rin was never late, on the contrary he was always too early for his own good. You finally reached the little cafe and parked in the spot right next to your favorite cherry blossom tree, it wasn’t in bloom but it still looked beautiful. Staring at the big sign at the front labeled Cherrywood, you smiled to yourself, memories flushing back to you.

Cherrywood Cafe was yours, and Rin’s. It was the cafe you had always gone to, everyday. You had made so many memories there, the owners knew you by name and order, they always thought you were a couple. You still remember the times Rin would surprised you on your birthday with a little set up at the cafe. Good times.

You walked inside, the owner recognized you instantly.

“Oh my goodness! You have grown so much my dear!”

You loved that sweet old lady, she was the cutest thing to ever exist.

“Come come, your boy is waiting for you.”

You instantly felt the warmth creep up to your cheeks, because you knew exactly who she was talking about. She dragged you over to the table in the corner with the large window, which had little succulents on the sill. There he was, Rin Itoshi in all his glory. He stared at you with so much intensity you thought you would puke. He stood up to greet you, well he got tall.

“Oh! Hello, it’s nice to see you.”

Well he is awkward as always.

“It’s nice to see you too Rin.” You gleamed.

The two of you sat down in awkward silence for a bit, and the food had arrived before you started the conversation.

“So how have you been, I know you’re a big shot soccer player now, how’s that going for you?” You smiled.

“It’s great honestly, not too bad, minus the paparazzi.” He said with a blank stare.

You nodded in acknowledgment, the silence was slowly creeping back in.

“How about you? What do you do now?” He asked.

“I am a physical therapist, I just completed my clinical studies. I had my white coat ceremony a while back, now im in the field. I actually get a lot of athletes, I think I met a friend of yours.” You rambled.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Who did you meet?” He asked, it felt more like an interview.

“He was eccentric for sure, I think his name was…Shidou im not sure it was a while back.”

He stared at you, mouth agape. You stared back with a puzzled look on your face.

“Did I say something wrong?” You questioned

He sighed before starting.

“It pains me that you think that he is my friend, I would never, and I mean never, consider him my friend.”

That statement elicited a chuckle from you.

“And why is that?”

He frowned.

“You met him, he’s such an odd person.”

You laughed even harder.

“Yeah I noticed he has an obsession with Sae.”

You didn’t know what you were starting. It was like Rin was waiting for this moment his entire life.

“Right? It’s so…odd. If you like a person and you think they are talented, don’t start jumping on them and saying odd shit, on live television too. He is a PR nightmare.” He rambled on about how weird Shidou was.

You don’t think you had laughed at someone complaining this hard. Somewhere in the ramble, Rin laughed a bit too. When he finally stopped, you were still laughing, he was then just staring at you. He was too busy listening to your laugh.

“Wow you have the same laugh from when we little.”

Well that caught your attention.

“Really?” You replied

He nodded with a small smile on his face.

“It’s nice to see you haven’t changed much.” He continued.

You smiled, not knowing how to respond. He was never one to be super nice, just respectful enough to get by. You would be lying if you said you didn’t like him, and his compliments.

“You changed for the better, you’re smiling more.” You complimented back.

His smile slightly fell, your smile also fell when you noticed.

“Keep smiling, it suits you.” You quickly added before finishing the last bite on your plate.

Rin had always been ghastly pale. Even being an athlete, he was very fair and it was probably one of his biggest social weaknesses. This is because, his face would turn bright red at any given moment, he could be embarrassed, shy, angry, surprised and everyone could tell, because his face had changed colors. He tried to cover it up, but as you said that, his face instantly turned pink. You pretended to not notice so he could save face but it was no use. You giggled a bit, slightly poking fun at him.

You two finally finished your lunch, getting up to pay for the meal, you insisted on paying. As you went to give your card, Rin snatched it from you and gave his instead. He handed the card to you, not uttering a single word. Walking out of the cafe side by side, he broke the silence.

“I had fun, we should stay in touch.”

“I did too, and we should, let me know if you’re ever in London.” You nudged his shoulder.

“I will I promise.” He held out his pinky, securing it with yours. He hesitated before continuing.

“You should come to one of my games, I’ll seat you in VIP.”

You looked at him, surprised and giddy.

“Oh my gosh Rin id love to see one of your games!”

He smiled, blushing furiously, he was so glad it was cold outside.

You guys parted ways again, but not for long. You texted everyday, called frequently even on busy days. You stayed in touch, a little too much maybe. When he played a game in London, you attended, sitting in the nice VIP front seat. He kept glancing your way, trying not to make it obvious so the media wouldn’t get any ideas, he already had plans to ask you out, he didn’t want rumors to ruin that.

When he won the game (obviously) he met with his team and then quickly ran over to you, telling you to meet him outside the stadium in the staff parking lot.

You stood there for maybe 15 minutes, waiting for Rin in front of his car. Then, a pair of hands came up and covered your eyes. A smile adorned your face, knowing exactly who it was. It was a bit out of character for him, but you weren’t complaining. When he lifted his hands off your eyes, you finally turned around, looking straight at Rin, who had a small bouquet of your favorite flowers, and a small box. He looked handsome as ever. You gasped, mouth agape, you didn’t know what to say. So you didn’t say anything, instead you instantly leapt forward and kissed him. You have been waiting for this moment for god knows how long. You felt Rin’s arms pulling you into a hug, you could tell he’s been waiting for this too. When you pulled away, he gestured you to open the small velvet box in his hand. You smiled at him before taking the box and opening it. Inside was a beautiful charm bracelet, and a ring with white and teal crystals on it. You were speechless, you didn’t think this day could get any better, until he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up, revealing a matching bracelet and ring on his hand. You hugged him so tight he couldn’t breathe properly for a bit, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He was living his dream now, dream job and dream soulmate.

And it wasn’t long before you and Rin had to switch those matching rings for another set, this one had diamonds though.

xoxo, august

[forthelostones]

𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 ➺ 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 #9

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. listen,,, i am actively doing a masters i apologize!!! i've recently stopped using grammarly for a more real writing experience. so if things are wonky, just know thats why! no more ai help. this isnt my BEST but.

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. cry to me by loleatta holloway♫

I was completely dazed, hoping that I won’t crash into a brick wall anytime soon. The images from last night were on a constant reply behind my eyes. I’m sure she has no idea or at least I hope that she doesn’t but when I got up to go to the bathroom, I saw her. She was standing in my shower letting brushing her hands against her body, tracing the lines of her hips with what I presume was my soap. The door was slightly ajar although the steam hid her, which I was thankful for, a perverse part of my brain wish it wasn’t. But her outline was more than enough. The feeling wasn’t anger towards her but frustration all again within me being a creep and internal moral conflict. 

As I tossed in bed, I listened to her feed pad around the hardwood and finally settle in the living room. After rolling back and forth multiple times I found a comfortable position and let my mind drift away void of any lingering thoughts. Images of her continuously flashed in my mind, it was inappropriate, unprofessional, a conflict of interest. My shoulders dropped instantly as we pulled into her driveway, she left me alone and I pressed my head against the seat.

Once I ended my call with Henrietta and confirmed today’s appointment, she reappeared dressed in black jeans, baby blue cotton button up rolled to the elbow, hair out of her face and ears decorated with gold jewelry and minimal makeup. A soft tote bag thrown over her shoulder slipped off ever so slightly as she opened the door — I itched to get out and do it for her, it didn’t feel right to see her open it on her own. Up close she looked honey-drenched from a soft golden shimmer highlighted on the peaks of her face. I swallowed roughly. 

“Are you nervous?” I ask, hoping the breaking the silence will help me feel normal. 

“Not at all,” She says plainly.

“Were you nervous your first time Ms. Anderson?” She stares out the window. 

I chuckle. “Depends.” 

“My mindset is there is nothing I can’t do. I can have it all, you know.” 

“I remember my first project after Grandad died, I took over his small crew of chauvinistic dicks.  They all acted like I gave him the cancer, that was the hardest part, getting the job done even though I was surrounded by people who couldn’t care less if I died too. A lot of time I was at sites overnight, fixing mistakes they made on purpose, juggling multiple contracts, grieving,” I grip the wheel tighter remembering the level of mental turmoil I was put through. Funeral arrangements, emotionally manipulative girlfriend, underpaid… “I don’t think I had time to be nervous, I had to be strong immediately. Let them call me horrible names and make those jokes to prove a point,” 

A small Henrietta came into view waving a small, saggy arm quickly. She was so cute. 

“That’s Mrs. Harris, she’s quite the character.” I add. 

Without time to complete our conversation we both step out with haste. 

“Welcome ladies, now I don’t remember this fine young lady before.” 

“Hi Ms. Harris, I’m Ms. Anderson’s new assistant, nice meeting you.” She smiles brightly and genuinely. 

“Perfect, you can meet my daughter Nora then, she’s making iced tea.” 

My face contorts with confusion as we take our shoes off at the door to walk into the kitchen. Lemon lady, Nora, looks up and our faces share similar confusion. I scratch at a sliver of my exposed arm. 

“Abigail,” She manages to grunt. 

“Oh—What? You two know each other?” Her mother questions. 

“‘Ma were actually neighbors,” 

Mrs. Harris gasps theatrically and slams her hand over her chest and praises silently to herself. 

“We are.” I confirm. 

Nora’s tanned skin was deep and rusty, causing her light brown eyes to pop even more. I saw her beauty in its fullness as she pranced from around the island in a hot pink wrap dress. 

“So, what the hell!” Henrietta laughs, wrapping a causal arm around my new assistant. 

“In passing we speak but not fully, I definitely don’t know you, hi.” 

I had never payed attention to how raspy her voice was - sultry. Her long lashes fluttered as two parts of my new world began to collide instantly and explode right in my face. Nora’s full 'fro was painted with a stroke of grey around the edges of her hairline feathering outwards. Her femininity was palpable, she floated on her lavender painted toes around the kitchen, finally making it to me. I had to look downwards slightly to meet her gaze. 

“Hi,” She twinkles softly. 

“Well, hello there. I started to find it suspicious that I didn’t receive a crate of lemons recently.” 

She laughs behind a soft manicured hand that then brushes slightly against my bicep. “I’m starting limes now.” 

For some reason I blushed. 

We sat in the tastily aquatic themed living room where I sat with all three ladies to have further discussion, even now I didn’t want to, I wanted to hear Nora’s voice again. A small tingle danced on my body from all the pleasantries Nora and I had ran into from simply speaking. No awkward waves or glances and I felt … a bit nervous. Her femininity was fragrant and I pictured those short nails piercing into my skin as I flatten her curls into a pillowcase.

Iced tea sat center on to coffee table that I sipped while avoiding any glances in Nora’s direction, undressing her with my eyes in front of her mother would be absolutely inappropriate — which made it harder. As I slipped on my specs to read some notes I made after meeting with Henrietta I felt two flaming gazes traveling in my direction. One of them mutual and one of them not, a fantasy living in my dreamscape. 

“‘Ma I won’t be moving back in anytime soon, but if you worked on the guest bedroom, maybe I could stay over more often?” Nora groaned. 

Henrietta melted into her seat sadly at the final conclusion. 

“Fine. Abby, would that be something you have time to do?” She asked. 

“Let me check our calendar and call you.” 

“Or call Nora!”

I giggled a bit and looked to my newest edition force a soft grin at the non-business related topic at hand. The sheer enthusiasm from her mother told me everything that I needed to know, Nora had been single for far too long, living a bit sedentary like me. Luckily for me, I didn’t have any parents anymore to nag me about it. 

Nora slipped on tan criss-cross sandals to walk us outside to the door, where we headed for the truck, but not just before she gripped my bicep. I turn with hot curiosity to the woman who now stands slightly above me the peak of the morning glistening on her face. 

“Sorry, she can be a bit dramatic.” She apologies. 

“It’s perfectly fine, it’s good you still have her,” I add. 

“Listen Abby, this blind date was unusual but I feel like we can take a drink and learn more about each other. Or I could cook you breakfast this weekend, whatever you want.” She smiled. 

I nodded casually but was internally on the brink of combustion, her initiative surprised me and I was upset I couldn’t approach her first, but I was pleased. 

“Absolutely, your mom took the liberty of texting me your contact so no worries I’ll be in touch.” I mimic her soft smile. 

“Perfect. Hope to hear from you soon.” 

“Whatever we decide to do I’d love to see you in some lavender.” I wriggle my fingers. 

She nods her head and my knees could’ve buckled then and there but instead I step back and turn to face the truck. 

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Sorry.” 

I jog slightly to the truck and unlock the door for my poor assistant who had to see the most unprofessional display of interaction with a client on her first day. I cut the AC on quickly and lean back in the driver’s seat to look over at her. But I couldn’t read her, was she upset or confused? I couldn’t tell. 

“How about we get you home, I’m headed—“ 

“Could you take me to Ellie’s? She’s just off the second exit on the highway.” She request then buckles her seatbelt. 

“Of course.” 

— 

Last night I promised myself to sort through the regular onboarding paperwork so I could pay my new addition for her time as soon as possible. I sat in an empty house under the hum of central air under me as I sort out the forms, some that I needed her to sign. Realistically, I could send the PDF to her email or invite her over so I can see her again.  I look over to my empty wine glass and the sticky red residue settled at the bottom of the cup. My stomach tightened for the third time, but I can’t ignore it, I needed to get dinner in order. 

8:53 p.m.: Need you to fill out some forms for me. 

Instead of sitting and watching grey bubbles appear and disappear, I started on sorting my grocery order I placed when I came back. After my third glass of wine I decided to make a lemon garlic pasta after reading one recipe and certain that it was simple enough for me to do tonight. 

I found a beer in hand and my phone in another with a caldron of a pot boiling over to the stove top. Chopped lemons lifted the scent in the house from rich to light and sweet as it grew dry on the counter. A bell-sound came from my phone and I jumped at the opportunity to read it but was highly unaware of my own mess. 

“Fuck,” I holler, my screen now covered in lemon juice. 

I drop my phone down on the counter amongst the ingredients and pick my angel hair pasta up, the package slips out of my hand and the threads of hard yellow sticks hit the floor. I watch them spread and roll to wherever they pleased. 

My door bell hummed at the front of the house and I slightly jogged to catch it, I wasn’t expecting her to pop up now, especially in a moment like this, shit.

“Hey, I wasn’t—“

“Oh.” Nora smiled timidly. 

“Nora, wow, hi.” 

“Seems like you were expecting someone. I can dip out…” She offers. 

“Um,” I wipe my fingers against the dish towel thrown over my shoulder. “Not at all come in.” 

I slip to the side and welcome her in. Her choice of loungewear was black linen pants and an oversized Howard University sweatshirt. She left her UGG slippers near the front door and crossed her arms as she admired the room. 

“Cooking or attempting to, um, in the kitchen if you wanna join me. Want a drink?” 

The water in the pot dulled, most of it gone into the atmosphere or on the stove itself.

“Oh gosh, Abigail,” Nora rushed to gather the stray pasta. “I’ve never seen anyone struggle like this to cook noodles.” 

If anyone else would’ve said that, I would have been highly offended but her non judgmental tone soothed me. She held them out like a bouquet before handing them to me to toss in the trash. Without thought she turned the heat off and refilled the pot carefully in the sink and carried it back. 

“I have pasta in my pantry, it’s capellini if that’s okay?” 

“Perfect.” I smile, clueless of what that is. 

As soon as she closed the door I jolted off to the bathroom to freshen up. Stepping in front of the mirror was a live horror show. My braid was veering off to the side with flying hairs sticking up around my crown. Quickly, I untangled my hair, brushed it out and threw on more deodorant. 

Nora was natural in the kitchen with her tea towel tucked in her waistband and using knives that have about as much action as me in the last five years. She brought over a much more adult bottle of a 2012-something and taught me how to identify the notes. I stood over her shoulder, watching her wrist make a swift motion out of a steel pan she brought from her home. The fragrant lemon sauce was coming together well with diced shallots and what I believe was fresh thyme, from her home garden.

She taught me how to properly swirl and plate the right portion and then store it for the days to come. We gathered at my dining table, slightly tipsy, but overjoyed at the fresh grated parmigiana’s compliment to the wine. Her lips were coated in the smooth sauce and her tongue grazed against them to clear off the residue. “I don’t remember my last home cooked meal.” I admit, chewing behind my hand. 

“That’s a shame,” she sighed. 

“Well, nope I just lied. My assistant’s parents invited me over for dinner, so I guess that counts. I think I was referring to more so inside of my own home.” 

“Do most of your clients prepare food for you?” She chuckled uncomfortable. 

“Uh, not meals but drinks, snacks, of course. They’re getting a bathroom demo and it’s a little bit exciting and I’ll be spending a bunch of time there — to be fair, I wasn’t the priority receiver of their kindness, they threw a party and invited me.”

"Great because mom can't cook." She smirked.

She twirled the last bits of the noodles around her fork and sat back to glance over to me, her hand slightly grazing her belly. My alcohol intake was far too high in the last couple of days and it was making me more and more malleable. I chewed on the corner of my lip as Nora’s eyes poured into mine seductively. 

“I am overjoyed Nora, thank you.” I mumbled, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

“Me too, I’m glad I stopped by.” 

I scooted my chair out to collect our dishes as her hand reached out to stop me. 

“Abigail, why don’t you get that after you walk me to my door?” 

All the blood rushed out of me as her dark voice beckoned me to obey.

“Well, yes ma’am.” 

Nora shuffled in front of me and led me to her property, covered in healthy plants and garden decor. I guess I never really looked at the items in her yard but she had a landscaping talent. 

“This is me.” She smiled before turning towards me and crossing her arms as she does. 

“I’m happy to have shared a nice meal with you. Thanks for saving my dinner.” 

Nora casually tucked a stray hair floating on the side of my temple and pulled it back behind my ear. “Abigail, I just followed the recipe.” 

I leaned down to place a long, intentional kiss onto her right cheek, her hands came to my shoulders briefly and back to her sides as I stepped away. 

“I’ll wait to see you fully in.” I gestured to her door.

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

You were waiting outside for over thirty minutes, banging your fist against Ms. Anderson’s door. One of her truck’s was in the driveway and nothing seemed out of order outside, so you were confused as to why she wasn’t coming to the door. 

All your calls went straight to voicemail meaning it was dead or she turned it off entirely. You do a combination of doorbell ringing and phone calling until the door flies open. Abby stood in an unusually silky black robe with a metal baseball bat. Her usually perfectly primped hair was matted and sticking to her skin. She sighed in audible relief that it was just me. 

“I heard banging,” She winced and covered her eyes with her palm. 

“I’ve been calling and banging for almost an hour.” You move past her. 

Wine glasses and dirty plates came in to view and a sinking feeling dropped in your belly. She had her neighbor over, she got to have dinner with Abby, touch her, kiss her, and by the looks of it fuck her too.