#im mostly settled on 1 and 2

[dispotatorulzz]

I might turn the postal guys in mlp ponies . 1 is a pegasus so I can give him big droopy wings to mimic his hair and the others areeee up to . Well later ig . I wanna do the brain damaged dudes which I think would work nice as two unicorns (or the evil dude would atleast) and j think two is an earth pony . I don't like three that much mayyy sketch him I do love a brown colour scheme andddd. Four ... Im thinking another earth pony but we will see

[v-0w0-v]

i need 2 think less & go rollerskating more

[dwaekkicidal]

thinking about idol!skz making their cute little stay sign an NDA

wc» 4k (APPARENTLY???)

cw» fem & STAY!reader, orgy (9), multiple rounds for reader but all of skz goes once each, both mean & soft dom skz, fingering/finger fucking, recording with a phone, 1 protected & 2 unprotected p in v, oral (f briefly & m fully receiving), face fucking, facial, light cum play?

an» i reread this like 10 times but i still hate it idk why lol, but anyways pls note that im using their STAGE names, this is really unrealistic imo but im indulging for once in my writing career bc im a weak, weak woman

shes so excited and has the biggest smile on her face, despite the fact that she knows there's mostly dirty stuff in the agreement. their manager stands nearby in the conference room, watching over every move from everyone. 'just in case'

and little does she know that the second she's done signing, they agreed to show her just why they're known for being one of, if not THE rowdiest idol group ever.

and then that sweet little smile pops up again and she pushes the signed form towards their manager. they wait patiently for a confirmation before even making the tiniest move. once they witness a nod and a bow in farewell from their manager, they smile to themselves.

lee know is the first to pounce, not even giving their manager time to walk out of the room.

the manager throws a plastic bag onto the middle of the conference table and heads to the door with some comments to the boys, and she watches as something thumps as the bag falls over and she faintly sees the shiny, square wrapper of something peeking out

lee know gives her a sickeningly sweet smile and helps her to her feet. she's confused as to why but doesn't exactly question it. she just assumes they're going to another room. and, well, it's not like she has the chance to really question anything.

not when her whole world spins and her cheek aches from the way shes all but slammed onto the conference table. and sure as hell not when her short, thin sundress is pulled up and bunched around her waist. and he wastes no time either!! it's like he's been waiting for that stupid piece of paper to get signed.

he knows it's all for the group's safety and that it was necessary for a "situation like this" or whatever crap his manager said. but that won't stop him from making you pay for it.

he's ruthless as he finger fucks you into oblivion right off the bat, leaving little comments here and there as his free hand digs into your neck, holding you down against the flat surface.

he curls both fingers directly into your g-spot and your orgasm takes you by surprise. you had no chance to warn him- or any of them- before you moan loudly and gush around his fingers. your legs kick up behind you in overstimulation, but he still doesn't let up right away. only once he remembers his other members are still there, he finally slides them out of you.

he's quick to get a taste and shoves his fingers past his lips, licking them clean as you attempt to catch your breath. you manage to shake off some of the surprise just in time for the sound of a chair scraping against the floor meeting your ears.

then you feel hands on your hips and youre spinning again. this time though, you're folded into a chair. lee know holds you against him and pulls your legs up to your chest, letting you sink down just the slightest bit and causing your head to rest against his pecs.

you're not sure what to expect until you notice i.n hovering over you. he runs the back of his fingers against your folds and laughs at the way your legs twitch from sensitivity. then he uses his free hand to stroke up and down your thigh before settling by your ass and using his thumb to spread you open.

he sits there for a moment and just takes in the sight of you just barely glistening and makes a noise of delight, as if he were eating his favorite meal.

he runs his fingers through your folds again, this time with more pressure, and teasingly dips the first few centimeters of his fingers into your hole before popping it back out and tracing little circles around your clit

eventually, amidst your whines and little hole twitches, he indulges you and sinks two of those long fingers into your walls. your legs twitch against lee know's hold and the elder squeezes your legs tighter before making some crude comment in your ear that you can't completely pick up behind the squelching of your pussy </3

i.n smiles to himself and moves his fingers roughly right off the bat. his fingertips dig meanly into your g-spot and you cry out loudly. your eyes focus on the maknae above you, taking in the crazy look in his eyes as he coos down at you in mockery of your whines.

and thanks to that, you miss the way a phone gets set up right where you just signed your life away. it's almost comedic the way they use the same tripod they use in their lives. but, again, you completely miss it.

and nobody can really blame you because the first orgasm that gets caught on the camera, literally seconds after the recording started, was enough to make your legs snap out of lee know's grasp.

i.n laughs and slows his fingers, letting you ride out that high for a moment and waiting for your legs to unclasp to pull his fingers out completely.

you think you understand now, and maybe it's onto the next, but that's not happening. not when this spoiled little brat doesn't move away from you. a few people even stand to claim their turn but, much to their dismay, i.n only sits in the same spot. in fact, he runs his fingers through your folds again, ready for a round 2- or... 3, i guess you could say.

and who are they to deny their little brother! after all, they are the ones who made him so spoiled in the first place. if they let him walk all over them without any punishment, you can't imagine the things he has planned for you.

a cry is ripped through your throat as his fingers dive in again at the same time that lee know hooks your legs over his, spreading you nice and wide for the room. the fingers just as mean as before and you can see his arms flexing as he tries to find another, deeper angle. one that he finds rather easily thanks to the telltale shivers from your body.

though, he's not really given much time to play with it as you cum again suddenly. you gasp loudly and he can tell it caught you off guard too, so he laughs and helps lee know hold your legs down and apart as he finger fucks you through this orgasm. he pulled his fingers out at the perfect time, right before it had actually became too much.

buuut, like stated earlier, they are the rowdiest group around. so did you actually think you would get a second to breathe? lol. maybe with one of the others, yes. but seungmin? yeah.... no. he actually pushes i.n out of the way, to the point where the youngest almost falls on the floor.

he then lands a brisk slap to your folds and wastes no time in shoving his fingers in, 3 of them to be exact. your eyes roll into the back of your head and one of your hands desperately digs your nails into his arm. he responds by pushing it away and landing another slap to your folds.

lee know laughs from behind you and hooks his forearm under your knee, hugging that leg to your chest and using his other hand to grip your wrist tightly. seungmin takes the chance and uses his free hand to push your other leg away, spreading you open while also pinning it up and away from you. the action makes you fall back against lee knows chest again.

his fingers are somehow rougher than the other 2 before him. you thought i.n was bad, but seungmin shows you no mercy. he even puts on a show for the others and leans down, sinking his teeth into the fat of your thigh thats just under lee know's arm

the action makes you whimper and clench around his fingers, taking him by surprise. he tests the waters and bites again, but harder. you clench yet again and the boys watch as your eyes roll to the back of your head

your mind is becoming foggy as you are forced to take everything the second youngest gives. and when you finally come for the 4th time, he pushes it even further and lands a sudden smack to your ass.

he pulls away slightly, his fingers drawing sticky shapes into your folds as mumbled chatter is heard. lee know pushes you to your feet and helps you stand up as a set of steps are walking towards you.

felix takes lee know's seat on the chair and pulls you onto his lap. you feel his hands on your hips, dragging your cunt back and forth along his cock, before you notice the man in front of you. han smiles sweetly, but when you blink you catch on to the menacing message behind it. even more so when he drops to his knees, eyes never leaving yours, and licks a long, slow stripe up your thigh.

felix giggles to himself when you shiver at the feeling and digs his fingers into your hips. he lifts you just enough for han to slide his cock inside of you. then he drops you down suddenly and hugs you to his chest.

you cry out at the suddenness and the room erupts in husky chuckles, some of them pulling their cocks out to jerk off at the sight of you getting broken in by their sunshine.

you get manhandled a little further, specifically felix positioning you so that he can fuck into you while giving han some space to work with. once they find the position that works, the pair give you no time to think.

han latches onto your clit immediately, sucking harshly and running his tongue in messy shapes against it. felix groans into your ear from the way you clench around him, but he uses it as motivation to start fucking into you.

the two hover you slightly above felix and give him space to start lifting his hips slowly- trying to find a rhythm that works for the awkward position. once he finds it, he digs his hands into your waist and starts fucking you harder, his tip hitting an angle similar to the one i.n had found earlier

your moan gets caught in your throat and you feel han smile against your mound at the sound. felix reads you like a book and fucks his hips in the same position, making sure to roll his hips slowly once he was sure that he found the right spot.

han nips at your clit softly one final time before standing to his feet again. he backs up and unbuckles his belt, never breaking eye contact with you, and smirks when he pulls his cock out.

the two move almost in sync and you're helped back onto your feet only to get pushed forward and shoved towards han's length. they hastily spit roast you and fuck you like there's no tomorrow- han's hand fisting your hair while the other holds both your wrists up and out of the way for felix, who squeezes your ass firmly before landing a playful smack to your thigh.

they take turns pushing you back onto the other, seesawing you like it's some sort of game until felix slows suddenly and finishes inside the condom you hadnt even realized he put on. he pulls away with no warning once he's done and you drop to your knees at the loss of your main support system.

han laughs and slaps his tip along your lips, then against your tongue when you poke it out obediently.

somebody on your side whistles at the sight and you feel your cheeks burn, only for it to fade once two hands rest on either cheek and use that grip as leverage to start fucking your throat.

its so sloppy, but thankfully isnt as rough as you'd have expected. he still fucks your throat roughly, but it's just enough for you to be able to look up at him under your lashes and run your tongue along his underside.

he groans and bites his lip at the feeling, eyes rolling until theyre closed as a drunk smile breaks out on his face. 'dirty girl.'

once han has you swallow his release, he crouches down in front of you and gives you a sweet peck on your cheek alongside a soft massage to your hips. he throws in a comment about how good you've been so far, only to get interrupted by one of the older boys.

but he can't really blame hyunjin for being impatient for his turn. i.n got two turns against everybody else's will so he's a little cranky that they're behind schedule.

he stalks towards you, a smirk painting his face as he helps you to your feet. hyunjin giggles as he pulls you into him and you stumble from your shaky legs. his pillowy lips push against your neck and you melt at the feeling, closing your eyes momentarily and forgetting about the other men surrounding you.

its short-lived, though, and hyunjin quickly releases your neck to spin you around and help you jump onto the table. his hand sneaks into the base of your head, grabbing onto what hair he can manage in a few seconds, and tugs your neck backward.

while he does that, his other arm wraps around your waist and holds you against his chest, making sure that you dont go anywhere.

he holds your head in a way that forces you to keep eye contact, and for a moment you’re confused as to why. but then he empties your head the second the thought comes to mind thanks to the way his cock slides through your folds

it makes your jaw drop and he mocks your expression, smiling at the end of it when you whine in embarrassment. he's so long. cock tearing up your insides already and he's not even started fucking you yet.

he starts off strong, his balls smack against your ass and the hand in your hair tightens, using the hold as leverage to hold you still so he can fuck into you even harder.

the hand on your back moves to your thigh, pushing one of them up and out of the way to give him more space to fuck you deeper. between your tightness nearly suffocating his cock and watching so much build-up, hyunjin already feels like his orgasm is close by.

and he’d be completely right, especially when your cunt makes so much of those gooey goodness noises and you leak around him like a faucet.

the hand in your hair tugs and angles you to the side. once he’s happy with the skin he can see, he leans forward and bites down on your collarbone. he leaves a few marks there before his hand releases your neck in favor of yanking your sundress over your tits. he would have half the mind to just take it off, but with his orgasm so close, he has something else on his mind.

he kisses your boob once and then kisses your nipple, he stays there just a moment before biting down on it softly and sucking harshly. your nipples were so sensitive from not being touched at all and it triggers your next orgasm. he rides it out by continuing to eagerly fuck into you and chase his own orgasm.

he finds it after leaving a few bite marks against your collarbone and groans into your ear as he fucks you through it, his hips stuttering each time you feel a warmth filling you.

he pulls away after some time passes and pulls out slowly, eyes glued to the sight of your cunt leaking his cum. he smiles and continues to stare at it for a moment, even going as far as to tease his tip through your folds and draw shapes into your clit with his messy tip. he dips it back in your hole one last time to get a reaction out of you before he’s pulled away by a hand on his shoulder.

your pussy is behind puffy at this point, but what do they care? this is what you agreed to, after all. and as much as changbin wants to feel bad for you, his cock aches so badly from something that only you and that pretty pussy of yours could fix.

he drags you off the table by your hips and flips you around, pushing you down against the table forcefully exactly like lee know did earlier. the only difference is this time, changbin shoves his cock in you all at once.

the sheer thickness of it makes you choke on your spit and dig your nails into the table. you push up to try and get a second to breathe, but he wraps his hand around your neck from behind and pulls you flat against his chest.

he mumbles something into your ear about how you need to stop running away from him, and how you need to take it or else he’ll give it to you 10 times harder.

and at first you listen perfectly! your body shakes and moves a little too much for his liking, but you obey rather nicely as he fucks you thoroughly.

you listen just fine until he lifts your hips just the slightest bit and a second pair of hands slides a folded-up sweater under your stomach, giving him a new, much better angle to ram into.

thats when you start to push back against him and disobey him.

he rolls his eyes and slams his hand against your ass, making you twitch farther away from him. he huffs under his breath and pulls you all the way onto his cock by your shoulders.

it makes him bottom out and your legs shake when he sits still, making you feel every last inch of him and every last throbbing vein along his length.

you clench around him unintentionally and it makes him loosen his hold on you, giving you some leeway to try wiggling away again. but he’s not gonna have any of that!! you’re supposed to be good.

so he drags his hands down your shoulders and down your arms until he gets to your wrists. once he wraps his hands around them, he pulls you up and forcefully arches your back as he holds your arms back near his stomach.

the new position gives him enough leverage to fuck you deeply while simultaneously preventing you from getting away from him, and with his rough eagerness, it's not a surprise that the both of you cum in the next few minutes.

he bottoms out one last time as he releases into you, emptying what feels like actual buckets into you and taking well over 15 seconds until his balls are done draining into you.

the feeling of being overfilled from multiple loads, one of which felt like gallons worth, and being bullied by his thick cock made your legs finally give out. changbin pulls out of you all of a sudden and neither of you has much time to react before your legs wobble and you fall to your knees.

he catches you as your knees hit the floor and he laughs to himself when you try to use the table to stand up, only to stumble again.

instead of helping you up, he grins smugly and watches as your legs tremble from your spot on the floor. even once he’s done, he still doesn’t help you up. he just backs away and leaves you to screw your head back on.

you really felt like you were finished, your brain was so fogged that you genuinely lost count of how many of them had brought you to an orgasm. not to mention you had no idea how many orgasms you even had.

but thankfully, it technically was the last- at least for your cunt (for now).

bang chan clears his throat to catch your attention and smiles sweetly at you from across the room when your eyes meet. he doesn’t move more than an inch, only tilting his head slightly and raising his eyebrow at you in a way that makes you ache with need.

his eyes glance to his feet before returning to your face and you take a moment to process what he wants, your brain still foggy from the onslaught of orgasms you had to suddenly endure, but it clicks fast enough for him to smile even wider when you begin crawling over to him.

your face burns in embarrassment from the others watching, but chan’s thumb stroking your cheek once you settle between his thighs makes it worth every second.

“i’ll be the nice one and give you a break.” a few sounds of disapproval come from behind you, but inevitably die down when he glances towards them. he teases his thumb along your bottom lip and continues.

“that being said…” the thumb on his other hand pushes down on his cock through his pants before dipping under his hem. “i still deserve a turn, don’t ya think?” he pulls his pants and boxers down before you can say anything and you find yourself drooling at the sight of him. “i had to sit here and watch my boys break you in. it’s only fair”

he slaps his tip against your cheek a few times, laughing to himself at the action, then pushes himself past your lips. he groans quietly with a smile painting his face as you take him deeper on your own- all the way until you feel him in the back of your throat.

his hand pushes down against your head, making you deepthroat him. he revels in the feeling for a moment before loosening the pressure and helping you pull off.

he easily falls into a rhythm like this, lifting and pushing your head onto himself. his groans were enough to get you to push your legs together, the ache between your legs somehow coming back as you pleasure the “head of the house.” between his praises and pet names, you only felt more eager to suck him harder and cause his orgasm.

you completely forget everything around you until i.n. walks into your peripheral vision with a phone on a small tripod in his hand. your eyes snap to him, staring at the smile that's partially hidden behind the phone, before staring directly into the camera lens.

you can tell it affects him from the way his smile falters and he takes his lips between his teeth.

“eyes on me.”

your eyes immediately snap back to chan and you circle your tongue around his tip in apology. he smirks and furrows his eyebrows when your tongue traces the most prominent vein on him, a more sensitive spot for him.

he already felt close enough from that, but when you pull off him momentarily and stroke him so that you can run your tongue between his base and his balls, he completely loses it.

ropes of cum paint your face and you have to close your eyes to prevent any injury, and chan only groans louder at the sight, seemingly cumming even more from unintentionally painting your face.

once he’s finished and only your eyes are cleaned off, i.n walks up to you and grabs a handful of your hair, forcing your neck back to present your dirty face to the phone that was still recording.

somebody reaches from behind you and gathers some of chan's release on their finger only to shove it past your lips. you hum and the taste and shut your eyes in satisfaction.

all 3 men laugh and hyunjin speaks up as the mystery man, squeezing your cheeks together: "say cheese~"

they know they found the perfect toy when you smile drunkly into the lens <3

“now that that's out of our system... let’s go to a different room and talk more specific details through. this room reeks of cum-”

Taglist: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @honeyybbuubblleess

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams @velvetmoonlght

@aeri-skzver

[daryltwdixon]

Joel Miller x Reader Just Coffee II

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Joel picks you up after a long day, taking you somewhere small and familiar, where conversation flows as easily as the wine. As the night winds down and Joel insists on driving you home, neither of you are ready to say goodbye quite yet.

warnings: some plot mostly smut 18+ MDNI

notes: this fic takes place in fantasy land where pinv doesn't end up in pregnancy ok thank you have a nice day. wrap it up in real life ok? im obsessed with this pre-outbreak Joel. I feel like I read & edited this til my eyes were bleeding, please lmk if you find mistakes

The evening rush had just died down when Joel walked through the door of the coffee shop again that day, his presence filling the small space. It felt easier, more relaxed now that he’d gotten used to coming around more. 

You glanced up from wiping down the counters, already feeling the exhaustion from a long shift settling into your bones.

“I thought we were meeting later?” you asked, arching a brow as you tossed the rag over your shoulder.

Joel leaned his hip against the counter, arms crossed, his hazel eyes flicking over you—messy apron, sleeves pushed up, hair slightly frizzed from the long day.

“Figured I’d pick you up,” he said, ever casual. “Walk you out.”

You let out a small groan, rubbing your hands over your face. “But I smell like coffee and milk and—” you sniffed your sleeve dramatically, “—probably cleaning supplies. Real cute first date material.”

Joel smirked, one hand rubbing along his jaw. “Well, I smell like sweat and sawdust, so maybe it’ll cancel out.”

You snorted. “If you say so,”

He shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to suffer through it together.”

That made you smile, warmth creeping up your neck despite yourself.

“Don’t worry,” he added, his voice dipping a little softer. “Second date, I’ll take you somewhere fancy. But tonight, I got somewhere I think you’ll like,”

You swallowed, your heart giving a little unexpected flutter. A second date. Meaning he had plans on seeing you way more than just for one night. And damn did you like the sound of that.

“Fine,” you sighed, pretending to be more put out than you actually were as you untied your apron. “But if I smell like an espresso machine all night, that’s on you,.”

Joel just chuckled, stepping back to let you close up.

You expected him to take you to some hole-in-the-wall diner or maybe just grab a quick bite somewhere. But instead, he walked with you down the quieter streets of the small downtown, until he stopped next to a small, tucked-away Italian restaurant with a hand-painted sign and a cozy glow spilling from the windows.

It wasn’t flashy, wasn’t trying too hard—it was the kind of place people probably came to for years, passing it down like a family secret.

“You ever been here?” he asked as he held the door open.

You shook your head. “Didn’t even know it existed.”

The second you stepped inside, warmth wrapped around you—the scent of garlic and tomatoes simmering low, fresh bread baking, the low hum of conversation filling the intimate space. String lights hung loosely across the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow over the rustic wooden tables. A candle flickered at every one, pooling small halos of light between plates of pasta and glasses of deep red wine.

“You eat here a lot?” you asked him as he stepped in behind you.

Joel shook his head. “Did some work on the building a few years back. Owners fed me a few times.” He shrugged, like it was nothing. “Keep comin’ back when I can.”

As if on cue, an older man in a white apron emerged from the kitchen, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw Joel. He walked straight up to him, clapping him on the shoulder with a familiarity that made your brows lift.

“Miller!” the man greeted, grinning wide. He rattled something off in rapid, affectionate Italian, gesturing around the restaurant. Joel huffed out a low laugh, shaking his head.

“Good to see you too, Sal,” Joel said.

Sal patted his shoulder again, his thick fingers pressing into the fabric of Joel’s shirt like he was testing its strength. "Still workin’ with that stronzo fratellino, eh?"

Joel chuckled. “You bet.”

Sal scoffed, shaking his head. “Tsk. He was never as good with his hands as you.” He turned to you with a wink. “My best man here, best muratore in town! Fixed this place up when the siding was fallin’ off my dannata walls! Quick, clean—like an artista, eh?”

Sal laughed when Joel only shook his head, a red flush creeping up his face as he looked at you apologetically.

"Sit, sit! Please, eat whatever you like! I get you wine—" Sal finally let go of Joel, waving over the hostess with an urgency like he was hosting royalty.

“You’re quite the celebrity, Joel,” you teased, glancing up at him as the two of you followed behind to your table.

Joel sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I promise I didn’t bring you here for that—the food’s just real good,”

“Uh-huh,” you smirked, amused, as the hostess stopped at a cozy table by the window.

Sal came back over with a bottle of wine, winking at you before heading back toward the kitchen. “Enjoy dinner, eh?”

You watched him go, then turned back to Joel, arching a brow. “So, you’re with your hands, huh?” remembering what the man said a few minutes ago.

Joel picked up the menu and hid his face. “Don’t start.”

You bit your lip, amused, and looked down at your own menu.

The dinner itself was nice.

The kind of nice that snuck up on you, unfolding in a way that felt natural, easy, like you’d done this a dozen times before.

Joel was quiet, soft spoken, but asked a lot of questions. Not just the polite kind, but ones with weight, ones that made you pause before answering. He wanted to know how you got into coffee—if it was something you always loved, or if it just happened. What made you decide to open your own shop instead of working somewhere else. If you liked being your own boss, if it was worth the stress.

And he listened, really listened, nodding as you spoke, his hazel eyes steady on you. Every now and then, he’d ask something that made you stop and think, something no one had ever really asked before.

“You ever picture yourself doin’ anything else?” he asked at one point, twirling the stem of his wine glass between two fingers.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I guess I never thought about it. The shop is mine. My whole world’s kind of wrapped up in it.”

Joel hummed, watching you carefully. “But it makes you happy.” It wasn’t quite a question, but more an observation. 

“Yeah, yeah it does.” you answered with a smile, then tilted your head. “What about you? Do you like what you do?”

Joel exhaled through his nose, thinking. “Don’t know if anyone likes workin’,” he admitted, then nodded a thanks to the waiter as he set down your meals. “But can’t think of anythin’ else I’d be doin’. Ain’t the type to be sittin’ in a stuffy cubicle and all.”

You smirked, picking up your fork. “Oh, I don’t know… I think you’d look real nice in a suit and tie.”

Joel let out a quiet huff, shaking his head as he cut into his food. “Yeah? And what, you see me sittin’ at some fancy desk, makin’ phone calls all day?”

“I dunno,” you teased, shrugging. “Something about you in a tie just works for me.”

Joel shot you a look, amused, before taking a sip of his drink. “Maybe I’ll show up to your shop one day in one, just to surprise ya,”

“Oh, that’ll be the day,” you giggle. 

The rest of dinner went by too quickly for your liking.

Joel told you about the different jobs he’d done over the years—how he liked working with his hands, how there was something satisfying about building something solid, something that would last. There was a quiet kind of pride in his voice, nothing boastful, just a man who knew the value of hard work, of making something real.

In return, you traded stories about your most memorable customers—the regulars, the weird orders like the ones who asked for 50 different flavors in one iced coffee. Joel countered with tales of difficult clients, stubborn contractors, and one particularly bad job where a homeowner swore they knew more about construction than he did.

And when Joel chuckled at a particularly funny story, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, you began to realize—God, you liked seeing him like this. Relaxed. Comfortable. Like maybe, just maybe, he liked being here with you, too.

And before you knew it, the waiter was coming by with the check, and the night was ending far sooner than you wanted.

The evening air was warm as you stepped out of the restaurant, your cheeks still flushed from the wine and the lingering glow of good company. Sal had insisted on treating you both with large helpings of his homemade tiramisu—claiming you couldn’t leave until you were properly fed.

Joel had muttered something about not needing dessert, but you’d watched him polish off his plate without complaint.

Outside, the street was quiet, the warm light of the restaurant spilling out onto the sidewalk as the door swung shut behind you.

“That man is dangerous,” you groaned, placing a hand over your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.”

Joel huffed out a small laugh, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Could’ve said no.”

You scoffed. “And risk offending him? No way. I’d be blacklisted for life.”

Joel smirked, shaking his head before glancing around. “Where’s your car?”

You blinked up at him. “Oh, I walked.”

Joel’s brows pulled together. “You walk to work?”

“I live close by,” you shrugged.

Joel exhaled sharply, already looking like he was making up his mind, “Let me drive you—”

“Oh, no, it’s really okay—”

“I insist,” he said, and before you could argue, his hand found the small of your back.

Heat shot through you, electric despite how warm and gentle his palm was. You exhaled, smiling, and knew there was no point in arguing. Not when he was looking at you like that—stern, certain in a caring sort of way. So you didn’t fight it.

He walked beside you, his stride slow, deliberate. The night air was perfect with summer warmth and a cooling breeze, the quiet hum of the city stretching out around you, but you couldn't help the way that everything else had narrowed down to him—the sound of his boots against the pavement, the occasional brush of his hand near yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not quite touching.

He made a little conversation, but he was quieter now, more thoughtful. He asked about your family, where they were, if they ever came to visit. If you had much of a life outside of the shop or if it kept you too busy.

You answered easily, finding that with him, it was just...easy.

Joel didn’t fill the silence just to talk—he let it linger, let you breathe, let it settle into something comfortable, something that felt like it had always been there. 

By the time you reached his truck, you realized just how much you liked that about him. And how much you liked him.

Joel reached for the handle, about to open the door for you, ever the gentleman.

But then he hesitated. His fingers curled around the handle, but he didn’t pull. Instead, he exhaled, slow and measured, his jaw ticking as he turned to look at you.

His gaze flickered—your eyes, your mouth, then back again—just in time for you to feel it, that slow-building heat simmering between you.

“Screw it,” he muttered.

And then his hands were on you.

One at your waist, the other coming up to cradle your jaw, his rough thumb sweeping over your cheek as he pulled you into him, his lips crashing into yours with the kind of weight that sent your heart slamming into your ribs.

The breath hitched in your throat, and for a second—just a second—you forgot how to do anything but feel.

It was slow but heavy and intentional, like he’d spent all night trying to fight the urge and finally gave in. He kissed like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. It was steady, claiming, not the kind of frantic desperation you’d expect from someone who couldn’t hold back.

No, Joel took his damn time.

His lips parted against yours, deepening the kiss, pulling you further into him. His hand slipped from your jaw, fingers threading into your hair, holding you exactly where he wanted as he kissed you again, his tongue venturing past your lips, sliding along yours in a way that made you turn molten.

You gasped softly, pressing closer, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, needing something to hold onto because God—he was overwhelming in the best way.

Joel groaned low in his throat, like he’d finally let himself indulge, like this was something he’d been starving for. His grip on your waist tightened, guiding you until your back hit the truck, his body bracketing yours against the cool metal, broad and solid and so damn warm.

“You gonna open the door or what?” you teased breathlessly, between kisses, your lips brushing against his.

Joel huffed, his nose dragging along your cheek. “You in some kinda hurry?” Joel’s lips ghosted along your jaw, trailing down the column of your throat, pressing slow, lingering kisses against your skin, each one making you melt further into him.

You let out a soft, breathy sigh, and Joel chuckled low against your neck, his breath hot. “Didn’t answer my question.”

You barely remembered what he asked. Your brain was fogged, drowning in the way he felt against you, the way his body crowded yours against the truck, solid and warm.

“No,” you managed, voice breathless. “No hurry.”

“Good to hear,” Joel muttered.

And then, in one fluid motion, he scooted you over, swung the door open, and hooked an arm around your waist—lifting you effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. A startled gasp left your lips as he set you down onto the worn leather seat of his truck before you could even process the shift.

You barely had a second to catch your breath before Joel climbed in after you, the door shutting with a heavy thunk, sealing you both inside. The space between you was nonexistent—all heat, all him, his presence pressing into you, crowding you in the best way.

You thanked whatever lucky stars you had that it was dark, that Joel’s truck had tinted windows, because none of it would’ve stopped you anyway. Not when you were already leaning back into him, your fingers trailing up, brushing over the scruff along his jaw.

Joel’s hand slid up your thigh, fingers curling, anchoring himself as he kissed you deeper, tilting his head to taste you fully. His other hand found your jaw, rough fingertips dragging over your skin, tilting your face toward him like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

You sighed against his mouth, pressing closer, nails scratching lightly against the denim of his jeans. He groaned, low and deep, swallowing the sound. Then, suddenly, his grip shifted, strong hands wrapping around your waist as he pulled you forward until you were straddling his lap. 

A breath hitched in your throat, hands bracing against his broad chest as your knees pressed into the seat on either side of him. The new position had you flush against him, heat radiating between you, the space inside the truck growing impossibly small.

Joel’s eyes flickered up to yours, searching, giving you a chance to stop this before it went any further.

But you didn’t want to stop. So you kissed him again. Deeper. Hungrier.

Joel groaned, his hands sliding up your thighs, rough palms trailing over denim now, gripping just enough to make your breath catch. His mouth was hot, insistent, kissing you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your lips, the taste of you, the way you sighed his name when he tilted his head to deepen it.

“I don’t usually—” you began, panting as you broke from the kiss for just a moment, lips still brushing his. “I don’t usually do this on a first date, just so you know.”

“Me neither,” Joel muttered quickly, voice rough, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers laced through your hair, tangling at the base of your neck as he pulled you closer, like the space between you was too much to bear.

His other hand trailed down, squeezing at your waist before gripping the waistband of your jeans. His fingers dipped just under the fabric, teasing, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Think you can get these off for me, sweetheart?” he rasped, his voice thick with want.

Your breath caught, “H-here?”

Joel huffed, smirking just a little, his thumb brushing back and forth over the waistband, slow and teasing. “Ain’t nobody around. Just us.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, steady, certain. “Unless you really wanna stop.”

He was giving you another chance to pull away, to tell him no, and you knew if you said the word, he’d back off immediately.

But hell no. You shook your head, breathless. “No. No stopping.”

Joel’s smirk deepened, approval flashing in his darkened gaze. “That’s my girl.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the button of your jeans, fumbling slightly. Joel exhaled a soft chuckle, amused but patient, pressing another slow, open-mouthed kiss to your throat as his hands ran up and down your thighs, steadying you.

You finally got the zipper down, lifting your hips slightly as you started pushing them down, but Joel’s hands took over, firm and unhurried, hooking his fingers under the waistband and dragging them down your legs in one slow, smooth motion.

The second the denim was gone, his hands ran back up your bare thighs, gripping at the flesh of your ass, his gaze locked on you like he needed to commit this to memory.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel muttered, his voice wrecked, pupils blown wide as he devoured you with his eyes. “Knew you had a great ass—couldn’t stop starin’ at it this mornin’.”

A flush spread through your body at his words, pooling low in your belly, but you could barely focus, too wrapped up in him, in the way he felt beneath you. Despite his claim earlier that he smelled like sweat and sawdust, you thought he smelled addicting—pure masculine heat, sweat and musk, with the faintest hint of whatever cologne or deodorant still clung to his skin. It was him, and it made you dizzy.

Heat curled low in your belly, especially when he tugged you down against him, pressing you right where you needed him, letting you feel all of him—hard, thick, pressing into the thin barrier of your panties.

A quiet moan slipped from your lips, and that sound did something to him.

“Oh, you make the sweetest little noises, baby,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he rocked you against him, his hands guiding your hips so you could feel just how much he wanted you.

His lips found your neck again, kissing, nipping, working their way lower, and you whimpered when they reached your shoulder, his fingers toying with the hem of your top.

“Think I wanna see more of you,” Joel muttered, voice thick and rough like gravel. His hands dragged up your sides, thumbs skimming the curve of your ribs. “Lift your arms for me.”

And you did—because you wanted more too. Needed it.

Joel peeled your top off slowly, taking his time, hissing when your bare skin was revealed beneath the dim light filtering through the truck’s fogged windows. His hands ghosted over you, calloused fingertips brushing along your collarbone, down to the tops of your breasts, his eyes dark as they devoured you.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he muttered, mostly to himself, his rough fingers slipping beneath the band of your bra, teasing. You squirmed in his lap, eager, desperate for something, arching into his touch.

Joel huffed a quiet chuckle, his lips curling as his fingers came up to pull the cups of your bra down and began palming your breasts in both hands, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

“That feel good, baby?” he rasped, watching your reaction as his thumbs brushed over your nipples, circling, teasing.

“Y-yeah,” you breathed, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Joel smirked, then pinched lightly, rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers. You moaned, head tipping back, arching into his hands.

“That’s it,” he murmured, leaning in, dragging his lips down the exposed column of your throat, over your collarbone. Then he licked along the swell of your breast before finally closing his mouth over your nipple, sucking slow and deep.

You gasped, gripping his hair, your hips instinctively grinding down against him. The friction sent a rush of heat pooling low in your belly, the hard line of him pressing right against you.

Joel groaned against your skin, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before switching to the other, giving it the same slow, torturous attention.

“Joel,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against him again, the need in you growing unbearable. 

He hummed, his hands sliding down, gripping your ass, grinding you down harder against him, “You’re so needy, baby,” he muttered, his lips ghosting along your jaw. “Bet you’re already drippin’ for me, huh?”

You nodded frantically, panting, whimpering, grinding against him, desperate for more.

Joel’s hand slipped between you, his fingers slipping to cup your covered mound, feeling the dampness that had seeped through the fabric. He sucked in air through his teeth as his fingers pressed firmly, rubbing slow, teasing circles. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby. This all for me?” he teased, “Huh?”

You gasped when his fingers would press and sometimes skim along your bare skin, running along the lace, teasing, pressing just enough to make your thighs shake.

“Please,” you breathed, writhing against him, desperate for more.

Joel hummed approvingly, slipping beneath the fabric, his fingers spreading through your slick folds, teasing your clit before dipping lower, barely pushing inside.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice rough. “Takin’ my fingers so easy.”

You moaned, body shuddering as he continued to rub gentle circles around your clit before finally pushing two fingers inside, stretching you just enough to make your breath catch in your lungs. Joel groaned, watching you, drinking in every sound, every gasp, his fingers working slow and deep, curling just right to have your whole body shaking.

Your hips rocked into his hand, grinding against the heel of his palm, pleasure building fast, coiling tight in your belly. He smirked, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles that had your legs trembling around his hips.

“You gonna come for me, already, sweetheart?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Come on my fingers before I fuck you?”

You gasped, “Yes, yes–” your fingers digging into his shoulders, your body locking up as the coil snapped in your belly, pleasure ripping through you in waves as you cried out, coming hard against his hand.

Joel groaned, his head falling forward to kiss your sweaty skin, feeling the way you pulsed around his fingers, his cock twitching hard beneath you.

“That’s my girl,” Joel muttered, his voice wrecked as he slowly pulled his fingers from you, slick and shining in the dim light. You stopped breathing as he brought them to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reaction as he licked them clean, his tongue dragging slow over his fingers. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly, like he was ruined by the taste of you.

Once he licked his fingers clean, he brought them to your lips and rasped, “Open,”

A wicked smile crossed your lips as you parted them obediently, letting him slide his fingers onto your tongue. Joel groaned low in his throat, watching you intently, his pupils blown wide as your lips closed around his digits.

You didn’t just take them—you sucked, hollowing your cheeks, your tongue teasing along his fingertips, slow and deliberate.

Joel’s smirk fell as his whole body tensed beneath you, muscles going taut as his free hand dug into your hip, hard, like he was barely hanging on. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat, and suddenly, his slick fingers left your mouth, his hand moving to your throat—firm but careful—pulling you down to him, kissing you again. It was hungry, needy, open and wet, all tongue and heat, like he had to taste you again, like the last few minutes of teasing had finally broken something in him.

You moaned against his mouth, shifting in his lap, feeling the thick, solid length of him pressing right where you needed it most. Joel hissed at the friction, his fingers tightening on your waist.  Then his hands moved, gripping your hips, holding you there as he worked open his belt, the soft clink of metal making your stomach tighten. The zipper came next, slow and deliberate, the sound loud in the thick silence between you. You watched as he freed himself, his thick cock pressing hot and heavy against your inner thigh.

Joel’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and dangerous, his jaw tight with restraint, “Still want this baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, kissing his face, his neck, nipping and biting at his throat as his hands worked himself. You lifted yourself up to give him better access to you. “Want you so badly, Joel.”

He grunted at the sound of his name on your lips, so low and wrecked and needy for him. Reaching down, he hooked his fingers beneath the soaked fabric of your panties, dragging them to the side. His other hand gripped his cock, dragging the tip through your slick pussy, teasing, pressing just enough to make you whimper.

“Joel—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with restraint, positioning himself right at your entrance. “Go on. Take what you need.”

You didn’t hesitate, sinking down onto him slowly, gasping as he stretched you, filling you inch by inch until he was seated deep inside you.

Joel’s head fell back against the headrest, his hands flying to your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there.

“Jesus fuck,” he gritted out, his thighs tensing beneath you as he held himself still. “You’re—fuck, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight,"

You moaned, feeling every inch of him pulsing inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way. You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he rocked his hips up into you, and your head snapped up at the force, making you look up just in time to see a familiar face out the back window.

“Oh shit—Tommy.”

Joel’s entire body went rigid, “Please do not tell me you just—“

“No—Tommy,” you hissed, ducking down as far as you could, but it only added more friction, making Joel’s cock pulse inside you.

He grunted sharply, his fingers digging in harder to steady you, his jaw clenched like he was trying so hard not to react to the way you just squeezed around him.

Then, a truck door slammed shut.

“Hey, ain’t this Joel’s?” Tommy’s voice rang out, just outside, “Thought he left hours ago,”

Joel’s eyes snapped open, wild and alert. In an instant, his arm shot out, slamming the lock button with a sharp click.

Your heart raced, your hands scrambling to tug your shirt back over your head as Joel shifted beneath you, one hand still firm on your waist, the other reaching toward the door controls.

“Is he in there?” Tommy muttered to himself. The sound of boots crunching against gravel got closer.

Joel rolled down the window—but only a few inches, just enough for Tommy to see his face and nothing else.

Joel’s expression was thunderous. “The fuck do you want?”

Tommy’s brows raised. “Damn, hello to you too,” he muttered, squinting between the tinted glass. “I been callin’ you. You never got back to the landscaper—”

Tommy blinked. His brows lifted slightly.

“Well, hell,” he said, smirking. “That the coffee shop girl?”

You, still catching your breath, gave a little nod, “Hey Tommy,”

Tommy grinned. “Joel never shuts up about your coffee.”

Joel groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”

Tommy’s smirk widened, shifting his weight onto one hip, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, you guys comin’ or what? Bout to head down to Jameson’s Bar down the street with some of the guys.”

The good thing was—from Tommy’s point of view—it probably just looked like a hot and heavy makeout session in the truck. He couldn’t see that Joel was, in fact, inside you. Your eyes flicked up to Joel’s face, still locked in frustration, his jaw clenched, his breathing ragged. And just because you could, just because you had to—you rocked your hips just a little. Joel choked on his own breath, his whole body seizing, his hands flying to your waist in warning. His eyes darted to you in a look that might kill you if you didn’t feel the betraying feeling of his cock twitch inside your cunt.

You bit your lip, eyes flicking down at Joel, voice sweet as honey, “Was just about to.”

Joel’s eyes flashed, his fingers pinching your ass hard in retaliation. You yelped, causing your body to twist up and into him, and he had to swallow his groan.

Then, suddenly, Tommy’s expression shifted.

His eyes flicked between the both of you—Joel looking wrecked, breath uneven, a little too flushed for the cool evening breeze, and you, doing your best to keep your face neutral while subtly adjusting yourself in his lap.

Tommy’s head tilted. His mouth parted.

And then, slowly, a knowing smirk crept onto his face.

“No way,” he breathed, realization dawning. “You are not—”

“Tommy—” Joel ground out, voice low and warning.

But it was too late.

Tommy burst out laughing, doubling over, hands on his knees.

Joel exhaled sharply, hands twitching on your waist, his patience hanging by a thread. “Swear to God—”

You, on the other hand, were trying very, very hard to keep a straight face.

Tommy finally straightened up, wiping at his eyes, still grinning like an idiot. “Man, you gotta be kidding me.”

“Get outta here,” Joel said between his teeth.

Tommy held his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step back from the truck. “Hey, hey, I ain’t judgin’—I just never thought I’d see the day my big brother was gettin’ it on in a goddamn parking lot like a damn teenager.”

Joel groaned, glaring daggers at him. “You done?”

Tommy smirked, but started backing toward his truck. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” He shot you a wink. “You take care now, darlin’.”

You smiled sweetly. “I will, Tommy.”

Joel huffed sharply, clearly done with this entire situation.

You kept an eye on Tommy as he finally slid into his truck, still shaking his head as he fired up the engine. Before he pulled away, he called out—

“Don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do!”

Joel slammed the window up before you could reply.

The second Tommy’s taillights disappeared down the road, Joel let out a long, deep breath, his grip on your waist still iron-tight.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You giggled, biting your lip, still settled in his lap, still pulsing around him.

Joel’s gaze snapped to you.

“You think this is funny?” he asked, voice thick, dark.

You blinked at him innocently, then, just to test him, you rolled your hips slowly, feeling his cock move deep inside you again. Both of you moaned at the feeling.

“You’re playin’ with fire, sweetheart,” he warned, his voice low, rough.

“Mmm but you love it,” you smiled.

Joel growled, his patience finally snapping. His hands tightened, yanking you down against him, grinding your soaked heat over him slow and deep.

You gasped, your fingers flying to his shoulders, nails digging in as he began to set a rhythm, his hips rocking up to meet yours, filling you over and over again.

“Fuckin' hell, girl,” Joel gritted out as your forehead dropped against his, “You love this, don’t you?”

You could barely breathe, pleasure pooling low and hot, winding tight in your belly, “Y-yes, feels s–s–so good,” you gasped, rolling your hips faster, chasing the high that had been aching inside you since the moment he first touched you.

Joel’s lips crashed into yours, swallowing the moan that tore from your throat as his hips snapped up into you, deep and slow at first, like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. You whimpered, fingers fisting in the shoulders of his shirt, clinging to him as the pleasure started to coil, winding tighter and tighter with every drag of his cock inside you.

“Oh god,” you gasped, barely able to breathe, barely able to think beyond the feel of him filling you, stretching you, hitting the perfect spot over and over.

“That’s it, baby—just like that,” he murmured, his voice rough, his arms wrapping around you as he rocked up to meet you.

You moved with him, rolling your hips, your body seeking more, chasing it, the friction and heat spiraling higher, hotter, pleasure building until it felt like you were seconds from snapping.

Joel must’ve felt it, the way you were trembling, the way your body clenched tighter around him, because his grip on you tightened, guiding you faster, pushing you closer, until—

“Come on now, hunny–you all talk or you really gonna cum?” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with need. “Let me have it, wanna feel you.”

And that—his words, his voice, the command in it—was what undid you.

A sharp, wrecked moan tore from your lips as the pressure snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves, your whole body shuddering and twitching as you clenched tight around him, pulsing, shaking, coming undone in his lap.

Joel groaned loudly, his head tipping back against the headrest, his jaw tight, his breath shattering as he thrust up into you, once, twice—

And then he followed, his grip bruising on your body as he buried himself deep, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat as he came, spilling hot inside you, his whole body locking up before relaxing, spent, wrecked.

The truck fell into silence, save for the sound of your ragged breathing, the sticky heat between you, the feel of his arms still gripping you, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, forehead dropping to his shoulder. “Holy shit.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a huffed-out chuckle against your chest. “Yeah.”

You stayed like that for a moment, neither of you moving, just breathing each other in, the moment settling between you.

Finally, Joel ran a slow, warm hand up your spine, his voice still gravelly when he spoke.

“So.” A beat. “We ain’t goin’ to Jameson’s, huh?”

You laughed, shaking your head against his shoulder. “Not a chance.”

Joel smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

“Good.”

[tenshx]

❦ the red means i love you ❦

(chap. 1)

➪ chap. 2 • chap 3 • chap 4 • chap 5

𓃟 read it on ao3

❦ pairing: jackson hillwalker/cottonwood x fem!reader

❦ word count: 4.5k+ words

❦ summary: moving into a small village near cottonwood mountains was the best decision you’ve made for your peace. everything fell into place just as you expected. all except for the fact that you had caught someone’s attention since you began working at the local diner. meeting jackson cottonwood was definitely something you weren’t expecting, but you soon find out that he’s more than what meets the eye. somehow, you wish you never left home.

❦ authors note: haha,, guess what guys. i’ve fallen down the butchery rabbit hole & now i am plagued by thoughts of this game. can’t wait to see more of my boys on june 8. reader doesn’t play as the character in the game & is a completely different individual btw!! i’ll revise my summary later 🤠 im just rlly tired and wanted to post this before i exploded.

❦ possible triggers: A JOB!!, blood, mentions of weapons, injuries, kidnapping and implied stalking,

Living in a small village was your dream. It always has been, especially after being influenced at a terribly young age to chase a peaceful life.

The place you moved into was definitely what you had expected— tranquil, slow-paced with a family-driven community, and full of greenery and beautiful scenery you would’ve never imagined seeing a year ago in person.

It was everything you had seen in movies, an exact replication of the several years of research you put into move, but there was only one problem— boredom.

It was something that often caught up with you on the slower days once you began to settle down, the air still and time passing and dragging all at once. Ironic enough, you felt a bit homesick, missing the hustle and bustle of your previous living situation, the silence of the village far more deafening than the noises that bombarded the busy streets.

But you figured it was the process of settling. After all, a slow life is a peaceful one and you couldn’t deny that you were rarely stressed these days.

Today was mostly quiet in the diner you worked at. Old, dingy with a bit of wear and tear, but a classic nonetheless. Despite its age coming around, locals returned often and newcomers loved the restaurant, always posting a good review somewhere in the deep corners of social media.

At this rate, you could’ve clocked out early with how dead the place was and even at that, it wasn’t enough to describe the emptiness of your shift. Maybe you could convince your boss or ask your coworker to cover you for the time being. After all, she did owe you a solid for saving her ass last week, nearly begging on her knees to cover her shift because “her boyfriend had made plans and she was sure it was a proposal this time.” (It wasn’t.)

It was convincing and you almost warmed up to the idea until a sharp gasp from your coworker ripped your attention away from your cell phone. She clutched the newspaper with one hand, her other one covering her mouth dramatically.

“Another person missing?” Her voice was hushed and devastated as her and your boss huddled around the folded piece of paper. “Isn’t this the nineteenth person this year?”

Your boss scoffs, shaking her head in disapproval, “The village is becomin’ dangerous, I tell ya. These damn cops ain’t doing shit to keep us safe. Back then, I could walk another village down and still come back in one piece—“

Her words seemed to meld as you stepped closer to them, slowly drawn into their conversation, eyes falling on the bold letters.

“MALE, 27 YEARS, REPORTED MISSING.”

The rest was a bit more difficult to read, but the portrait of the individual sent a shiver down your spine as you observed his features. He looked relatively young; a bright smile, youthful features, and a kind look on his face.

Your coworker noticed your wandering eyes, moving closer as she shared the newspaper with you, hands crumpling the edges of it. “Nineteen and none of them were found! How is that possible?”

The missing persons cases have been the talk of the village recently, someone always related to each person that disappeared. At first, everyone assumed it was their loved ones having a change of heart and leaving the village to start a new life, but as more cases began to pile, the panic began to unfold.

Maybe that’s why the diner was so empty.

You’re not sure how to respond and your boss obviously felt the same way as the three of you read the paper, eyes glued to it. Only the sound of the music playing in the background filled the silence.

꧁

Somehow on the second to the last hour of your shift, you managed to build up the courage to ask your coworker to cover you. Luckily, despite the creepy ambience the place held an hour ago, she gladly agreed, more than willing to return the favor.

So with a smile and gracious thanks, you began to pack up your belongings, ensuring everything was in place before leaving the back room towards the front door of the diner, checking your phone.

However, you heard the sound of the bell chiming before you could reach the door, head rising as your gaze met with one of your usuals— the infamous Jackson Cottonwood. He was the town's heartthrob, all the girls fawning over him and everyone’s mother trying to set their daughter with him.

“Hey sweetheart, leavin’ so soon?” His voice sweet as honey and with that familiar joyful kick, called out to you. He was dressed in his usual plaid, suspended flannel along with dark jeans and his dirtied boots. His hair was parted, kissed by the wind as strands fell over his eyes in a crooked manner.

You offered him a smile, a bit awkward and shy as you nodded, “Yeah, decided to hit the hay early tonight. Slow shift.”

He hummed disapprovingly as this, hands on his hips and you let out a low snicker.

“What a shame. Thought I’d catch up with my favorite girl, but it seems like I missed the window,” He said in a sulky manner, a defeated look on his face. “Suppose the lord isn’t on my side today.”

He was always such a sweetheart, one of the customers you found yourself naturally attracted to. With a mouth like that, it was no wonder why he had so many girls wrapped around his finger. You’d be lying if you had told yourself you weren’t falling victim to the same syndrome.

“It is such a shame. Had you been here an hour earlier, maybe we would’ve had time,” you teased a bit.

“We got all the time in the world as long as you keep workin’ in this diner.”

You laugh at his words and he lets out a prideful and satisfied grin, brightening up his features. Before you could say anything more, you noticed Jackson's eyes travel towards the bar, your gaze following his and soon noticing both your boss and coworker whispering to each other. They both immediately separated from each other, realizing they had been caught red handed.

Jackson leaned down, whispering something under his breath but loud enough for you to hear, “Seems like we got an audience. Let me let ya go for the night, yeah? Shouldn’t keep you back more than I need to.”

You lock eyes with him as he straightens himself out and he spares you a warm smile, sending you off with a squeeze of your shoulder as he breezes past you to sit in one of the booths nearby. You stare at the back of his head for a moment before you shrug it off, deciding to go home. You were bound to encounter him eventually.

꧁

“So what’s the deal with you and Cottonwood?”

You look up from your receipts, your coworker folding her arms as she leaned against the bar. There was a shiteating grin on her face along with a devious twinkle in her eye that made you a bit anxious.

You shrug nonchalantly at her instigating question, continuing to sort receipts, “Not sure what you’re talking about.”

She rolled her eyes at your words, grabbing it from your hands. You shoot her a glare, reaching for the pieces of papers as she held it out of reach.

“Hey—!”

“C’mon. He’s not sweet-talking you for no reason. You’re the only server he butters up, maybe the only girl—“

“He does that for everyone! Please, just give me back—“

With a groan, she gently shoved the receipts back to you, unconvinced by your reasoning, “Uh-huh. That’s why you’re his “favorite girl”.”

There’s a teasing tone in her voice and you can’t help but feel embarrassed. She noticed the slight flush on your cheeks at her evidence, letting out an amused laugh.

“It’s really not like that,” you say, trying to organize the little pieces of paper on the table. “I barely know anything about him.”

It was the truth. Jackson Cottonwood was the biggest mystery of the town despite his popularity. No one knew anything of him besides his name and his mother who once sold meat in the market.

There were several rumors about his status that circulated around town: a farm boy who lived off of the grid, a mafia boss working undercover, an undercover FBI agent collecting data on the village or residing here to keep his name low and much more you couldn’t care to remember. Despite his years of living here (assumingly), nothing was ever truly confirmed. Everything that everyone thought they knew was merely speculation.

He was simply known as the handsome man who often dropped by in town three times a week. Nothing more and nothing less.

She was skeptical, but had no denial to it, “I guess, but still, he's all over you. As a taken women, I know when a man—“

Suddenly, your conversation was cut short by the familiar sound of the bells chiming, both your gazes falling on Jackson, who looked around for a moment before locking eyes with you, nodding towards your direction and heading towards the same booth he always sat at.

Your coworker let out a giggle, nudging your side almost playfully. In response, you shot her a look, eyes pleading for her to behave before she leaned towards you, murmuring something in your ear secretly.

“Speak of the devil. I would continue this conversation but loverboy is waving you down. Get to him before he forgets your tip, yeah?”

At this, you turn your head, finally noticing the smile on his face, his cheek resting on his hand as he looked straight at you. Before you could ask your coworker to take over, feeling suddenly shy and nervous at her accusations, she was already past the doors of the kitchen, leaving you alone to stand dumbly behind the counter.

With nowhere to run, you begrudgingly made your way to Jackson, trying to shake off the nerves.

“There she is,” his voice filled the silence of the diner, muffling out the music playing. “Prayed to the lord I’d catch you today and it seems like they were generous. Lucky me.”

He was always so flirtatious, knowing the right words to get into someone’s heart, and it usually didn’t affect you. Up until this point, at least. You suppose you could blame your coworker for planting nonsense into your head, now hyper aware of his words.

“It isn’t hard to miss me,” you attempt to reply casually, hoping your voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt. “I work here almost everyday.”

“Yeah, but after what happened last time, I assumed praying for our next encounter wouldn’t hurt. It’s always a blessing to be graced with your presence.”

Such a strange compliment. You didn’t think anyone liked you enough to pray for your company. Maybe you’d expect it from the local gas station crackhead, but here you were, receiving it from the village’s heartthrob.

“Maybe you would see me more if you came into town more often,” you fought back the redness creeping up your skin, feeling hot under your collar as you attempted to keep up.

A little smirk replaced the usual smile adorning his cheeks, “Oh? Since you’re askin’ so nicely, sweetheart, I might make an exception.”

With no one else in the diner but you and him, his words felt a little more intimate, voice low and inviting. You could be reading the room wrong, but it definitely felt tense in a way that left you choked up.

You wanted to run away, battling the urge to clock out and hopefully wash the nerves out of your system after taking a hot shower. Somehow, some higher entity out there seemed to grant your wishes. You almost think about kissing your boss’ feet as she walked from the back into the diner, speaking loudly on the phone as she processed a take-out order.

With the conversation now interrupted, you found a way to redirect it, fumbling for the notepad in your pocket as you spoke,”S-Sorry, let me take your order.”

Jackson didn’t seem to mind it much, humming under his breath before answering.

“Sure.”

꧁

The diner had gotten busy within the next thirty minutes, a group of loud college students walking into the establishment for a quick bite. Their boisterous laughs and voices reverberated against the walls of the diner and while it was rather deafening, you were somewhat thankful for the distraction. With the emotions storming in your mind, you figured you needed away time from Jackson.

Unfortunately, he didn’t share the same idea. He seemed to take his time with his meal, taking small bites and reading whatever worn out book he’s pulled out of his pocket as you tended to other customers. You assumed that it might’ve been a slow day for him.

“How was your meal?” You ask as you rack up his bill, eyes glancing at him before back at the paper.

“Good,” he simply replied, hand, leaning forward against the bar. “But the service was better.”

You let out a nervous laugh under your breath, unsure of how to respond. You were hoping that he wouldn’t talk to you for the rest of the night, wanting to rid of the tense feeling in your body, so you settle for that simple act of acknowledgment.

Then you tell him his total, always the same, his order never changing since he’s dined here half a year ago. At this point, you’d expect him to pay without asking. Your boss had even offered him the convenient option of leaving his payment by the table to save him from the trouble of walking over to the register, claiming he was a “loyal” and “truthful” customer.

But he doesn’t do that. Even with the offer, he never does.

He slides the bills over and you reach to grab them, looking up from the receipt. Finally, you seem to freeze, hand stopping midway as you notice his hands, a bit irritated looking as if it had been scratched or scrubbed relentlessly.

Then you notice the dirt trapped under his fingernails along with faint reddening hue along the edges. You can hear him talking, saying something about the boys who had come in earlier, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away.

It isn’t until he moves to brush his hand against yours on the counter, you’re grounded back to reality, a sharp gasp leaving your mouth as you quickly pull your hand away.

His eyes seemed to widen at this, both of you staring at each other in awkward silence. You attempt to muster up an excuse, mouth opening and closing, but he beat you to it, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes, breaking the silence. “Didn’t mean to startle you. You just seemed out of it, so I was just checking on ya.”

It takes you a moment to process his words before you shake your head, grabbing the bills from the counter.

“No, it’s fine. I’m…”

There’s an odd feeling in your chest, unsettling in a way that heightened your anxiety. Something didn’t sit right and you’re not sure what, feeling almost silly at your emotions. Then you realize that maybe you should lay off the horror documentaries, the paranoia finally catching up to you. So you decide to shake it off, letting out a breath that was trapped in your throat.

“..I’m fine. I think I’m just really tired,” you finish your sentence, offering him a tense smile.

He doesn’t seem convinced for a moment but lets it go (much to your relief).

“Well sweetheart, grab a coffee before you go home, yeah? Dangerous for you to walk alone in that state. Nights are always unpredictable.”

There’s a hint of concern in his voice and you try to wave it off, not wanting to pester him with such trivial scenarios. With your pepper spray and taser you bought half-off from the store four blocks down, you were sure you’d make it home mostly safe.

“I should be fine.”

“Just wanna make sure my girl is safe is all. I’d offer to walk you home but I haven’t finished running my errands,” he says casually, the nickname constant in his mouth. “Maybe next time I’ll pray hard enough to have the opportunity.”

You let out an airy giggle at his words, forgetting about the uneasy feeling almost immediately. You’re not even sure why you assumed the worst in him, chiding yourself a bit for believing he’d commit any heinous acts. He’s been nothing but kind to you from the start and truth be told, if he wanted to do something to you by now, he would’ve.

“Fat chance, but you can keep praying,” you tease and he lets out an amused laugh.

“Best believe I will. My lord hasn’t failed me yet.”

With that, you both catch up for a bit before another set of customers come in, cutting your session short. He nods at you, moving to push himself off of the counter.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he straightens out his shirt, shoving the receipt in his pocket before looking back at you. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Remember what I told you.”

You roll your eyes, shooing him away, “Yes, I know. You’ll see me in one piece next time.”

He reacts to your answer, a prideful smirk forming on his face as he hums in approval, “Good girl.”

Your cheeks redden at his praise and thankfully, he's already turned away, heading out the front door when it happens. As much as you hated to admit it, you figured that maybe you did like Jackson more than you let on.

But only time could tell.

꧁

Time was definitely not on your side.

You hadn’t talked to Jackson since your last encounter with him a week and a half ago. It was out of the ordinary and sudden, his absence obvious as you found yourself waiting for his arrival. The more you waited, the more you wondered.

You did miss him in a sense. Whether it was because he established a routine for you, provided excitement in your life, or welcomed you with blossoming feelings for your relationship with him, you’d never know.

It didn’t make it easier that you hardly knew anything about him. Creating scenarios for his absence felt almost impossible, forcing yourself to dumb it down to simple reasonings. Maybe he was busy with whatever job he had or he got caught up in family business. After all, he was an adult man with adult responsibilities. Visiting his “favorite” girl in a diner shouldn’t be one of them.

In a blink of an eye, two weeks passed without his usual visits and the villagers began speculating. Considering the low population of the village, it wasn’t a surprise that people had caught on quickly, rumors spreading like uncontrollable wildfire.

“Maybe he found a purpose somewhere else. This place can only provide so much,” one woman gosipped, buying fresh eggs from a farmer in the market.

“Told you he was working for the government! Was always suspicious of that one,” Another man had claimed on a different day, hitting his rolled up newspaper against the arm of his friend. “Cottonwood is shady! It’s weird how we don't know anything about this fool when everyone knows everyone here!”

“Do you think he was the twentieth victim?” Your coworker theorizes one day, the diner slowing down after the dinner rush. You shudder at that, not wanting to think about that possibility.

The air is suddenly eerie, a sense of unease surrounding the area.

You just hope he hadn’t gotten hurt or abruptly moved away without saying goodbye.

꧁

You finally finish closing up, finalizing and straightening everything out before parting ways with your coworker who blew you a kiss, reminding you to call her before your shift tomorrow so you both could hit up the farmers market.

You spare her a tired smile, nodding at her words before walking towards the opposite direction and into the quiet streets of the village. With the recent news lately, the nights have been emptier, markets shutting down early in fear of the loose kidnapper. You did miss the liveliness of the night life here, but who could blame them? Nineteen people missing and not one body had been recovered.

The incident was easily labeled as the Cottonwood Mountain’s biggest case and probably its only one of its kind.

It had made big news on social media, several of your friends and family members calling you with warnings and concerns for your well-being. Despite the crimes occurring, you were much happier here than you were back home. So with a flash of your pepper spray and taser, you left them with the comfort that you were protected.

While scrolling through your phone, catching up on several messages, you were unexpectedly stopped by the blinding lights of police sirens, noticing the street you usually took blocked off by yellow caution tape and several police cars. There are a handful of officers around along with a few villagers scattered throughout the small, finite area.

You don’t have time to process what was happening before an officer approaches you, his voice hushed but authoritative.

“Sorry ma’am, the area is blocked off right now due to a distressed call. I know its an inconvenience but it’s currently prohibited to pass through the area at the moment.”

Truth be told, you were a bit annoyed at the inconvenience, wanting nothing but to be home after a long day at work, but you bite your tongue in hopes of ending your day on a good note.

“Do you know when everything will clear up?”

You were hoping he’d say soon or within the next thirty minutes, but the look on his face told you everything you needed to know. Defeated, you began to map out other routes you’ve taken once or twice whenever you wanted to take the scenic way home before he could give you a response.

“I don't have an ETA on it yet, ma’am. Is there any detour you could take?”

“Yeah,” is all you say and thank the officer, moving to reroute your path, already dreaming of the hot bath you’d take once you get home.

The alternative path was usually beautiful during the afternoon or the peak of sunrise and sunset, but right now, it felt dreadful as you navigated through the dark of the woods with nothing but your flashlight and the map in the back of your mind. It was an arguably faster way to get home, but also the more sketchy route which was why you avoided it at night.

You’re hyper aware and paranoid now, pepper spray in one hand and phone in the other as you treaded carefully along the dirt road. Every noise and odd gust of wind forced you to hold your breath, body trembling a bit at the silence of the area.

Regret began to weigh on your mind.

Maybe you should’ve waited for them to clear things out or call your coworker to crash at her place until everything settled, but you were already near your apartment, already too far into it to turn back. It would only be more trouble to track back. Only a few more turns and—

Speaking of turns, you rounded the corner of a tree, soon stopping in your tracks as your body paralyzed at the sight of red on the ground. The thick, viscous liquid stood out against the dark of the ground, splattered and smeared, taunting you as your heart dropped.

Your body seemed to move on its own as you redirected your flashlight along the dirt, the light providing you a better picture of streaks of a deep red stretching across the path, almost as if someone had been dragged.

Slowly, you look up, light flashing towards the direction and before you know it, you feel dizzy and nauseous at the sight of a body on the ground, lifeless and obviously, still very fresh, There’s a cleaver sliced through his neck, lodged deep into it, and then you see a pair of feet right next to the corpse, your breathing picking up as you come to the dreading realization that you had been caught red-handed.

Out of instinct, you shine your light on the perpetrator, wanting to at least get a good look of him before you booked it, but found your feet glued to the ground once you met with the familiar face of the villages heartthrob, staring back at you with a smile on his face. It doesn’t feel real and you’re almost convinced you're dreaming until he speaks, his voice unsettling, his usual jovial tone absent.

“I know I prayed to my lord I’d see you again soon, but I didn’t expect it in such an exciting way,” he let out an empty chuckle that sent shivers down your spine. He bent down to rip the cleaver out of the man's throat, the blood gushing out of his wound, pooling on the ground beneath him. Jackson stepped over his body carelessly before making his way to you. “I was hoping under some better circumstances, but who am I to complain? Seeing your pretty face is always such a privilege.”

Horrified, you slowly step back, trying to create distance between you both, knees weak as you try to gather the strength to run. It was a miracle you could even stand after such a gruesome sight.

“J-Jackson—“ your voice whimpers, shaky and mortified, but he immediately cuts you off, a wicked grin plastered over his usual handsome features.

“I like it when you say my name like that,” he comments gleefully, clearly enjoying the state you were in. “If I knew you’d sound as sweet as you do right now, I would’ve hoped you caught me sooner.”

You don’t hear the rest, your heart beating through your ears and your breathing speeding up as you continue to step backwards. Eventually, your hearing picks up, him closing the empty space despite you not being able to make out anything but his silhouette in the darkness.

“.. I told you nights were unpredictable, sweetheart. You should’ve listened.”

You feel your back hit something firm and for a moment, you believe it’s a tree, but once you register its body heat, you slowly come to the realization that Jackson didn’t come alone. Suddenly, you feel a blunt object strike the back of your head. 

For a few moments, you’re barely conscious, feeling an arm wrap around your middle as your body gives out, limp and out of your control. There’s an echo of laughter, menacing and mocking, before you slip out of reality, your life in the hands of the infamous serial killers of Cottonwood Mountains

tags: @delfinadolphin

[ekybrini]

Back to Strangers | LUKE HUGHES

— ⟡ summary | Libby Carter, a college student who has sworn off any athletes after hearing the amount of rumors of how they treat people. When Luke Hughes, a persistent hockey player, starts pursuing her as part of a bet with his friends, Libby is determined to keep her distance. But as they spend more time together, she starts to question whether his feelings are real or just part of the game.

— ⟡ warnings | none (that i know of)

— ⟡ word counts | 1.9k

— ⟡ gab's note | hii ! im so excited to finally start writing again after a while. I finally got the energy to actually write something after months and come back to tumblr. hopefully I can post more (senior year is kicking my ass at the moment so hopefully after the semester is over I can post and write more!) I think this can potentially become a au (we'll see!) anyways im sorry for the inactiveness, but I promise to try to be more active! also I apologize for how long this is

“Dude, I’m just saying, you’re all talk,” Ethan teased, leaning across the booth at their usual hangout, a local diner near campus. The rest of the guys Seamus, Mackie, and a couple of others were clearly enjoying this way too much.

“I’m not ‘all talk,’” Luke shot back, stabbing his fork into his pancakes. “I just don’t waste my time on relationships.”

“That’s because you couldn’t even if you tried,” Mackie chimed in with a smug grin.

Luke snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

“No, seriously,” Seamus added, leaning in. “You think you could get any girl you want, but there’s one who would never go for you.”

Ethan smirked, a challenge lighting up his eyes. He gestured subtly across the room. “Libby Carter.”

Luke followed his gaze and saw her immediately. Libby sat alone at a table, curled over a thick textbook, twirling a pen between her fingers. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and she was dressed in oversized Michigan sweatpants and sweatshirt that swallowed her frame. She was pretty, no doubt, but there was something about her that seemed untouchable. She didn’t go to parties and barely looked at guys, she was mostly in her own world.

“Good luck with that,” Mackie added.

Luke leaned back in his seat, his smirk growing. “You guys really think I couldn’t make her fall for me?”

Seamus grinned. “Bet you fifty bucks you can’t get her to fall for you by the end of the year.”

Luke’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of challenge and amusement. “Easy money.”

“Hold on.” Ethan raised a hand, cutting through the banter. “Fall for you. Not just go on a date. Not just hook up. She has to actually like you.”

Luke thought for just a moment, the implications settling in. That was different. But his pride wouldn’t let him back down.

“Fine,” he said, shaking on it.

☆

Libby Carter had three rules coming to college:

1. Keep your grades up.

2. Avoid distractions.

3. Never, under any circumstances, date an athlete.

The last rule wasn’t some baseless prejudice. It was a fact. The University of Michigan athletics team, specifically the hockey team had a reputation of a mix of cocky attitudes, effortless charm, and just enough talent to make girls “fall” for them before moving on like the next game on their schedule. Libby had seen it happen too many times, and she wasn’t about to be another statistic.

Which is why, when Luke Hughes star defenseman, future devil player, and walking definition of temptation started showing up everywhere she went, she found it incredibly weird.

Libby was used to keeping her distance, to keeping people at arm's length, especially athletes who believed they could charm their way into anyone’s heart. She had more important things to focus on like her studies, her future, and avoiding distractions at all costs.

But Luke was persistent. The first time he approached her, she brushed him off.

"I’m really not interested," she said, her voice cool and detached as she glanced at him, then quickly looked away.

Luke didn’t back down. "I get it, but I just wanted to say hi. No pressure."

She raised an eyebrow. "Hi? That’s all you came over here for?"

He nodded, smiling a little. "Yep. I promise, I’m not trying to sell you anything."

She chuckled dryly. "Well, congratulations, you’ve succeeded in being the most annoying person I’ve met today."

Luke laughed, unfazed. "I’ll take that as a compliment. Can I try again tomorrow?"

She shook her head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "no.”

"I’ll be back." he said, grinning

And with that, he left her with a lingering sense of curiosity.

The second time, she shot him a look that could have frozen him in his tracks. But Luke wasn’t one to give up easily. And when it came to proving something to his teammates, he never backed down.

"Seriously?" she said, her voice like ice. "You’re still here?"

Luke’s confidence wavered for just a moment, and he almost considered turning around and walking away. But he shook off the fear, his pride kicking in. He wasn’t about to back down out of the bet now.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice a little tighter than he intended. "Still here. Just thought I’d try again."

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing to slits. "And what exactly are you trying to prove? That you’re persistent?"

"Maybe," Luke said, forcing himself to stand tall despite the sudden unease. "But I’m also a man of my word. I said 'tomorrow' last time. I’m just here to keep my promise."

Her gaze didn’t soften, but he could’ve sworn there was a flicker of something in her eyes was it amusement? He couldn’t tell.

"You’re relentless," she muttered.

Luke let out a nervous laugh, trying to regain his footing. "I like to think of it as determination."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, but her stance was a little less intimidating now. "Well, don’t think you’re winning any awards here."

Luke held up his hands in mock surrender, forcing a grin. "No awards. Just a friendly hello. That’s all."

He was still shaking off the sting of that cold look, but something told him he wasn’t done yet.

☆

It wasn’t long before Luke’s presence became impossible to ignore.

At first, Libby thought it was just a coincidence when she saw him in the library, a place she frequented to escape the chaos of the dorms and study in peace. Luke, the star defenseman who could have any girl he wanted, hunched over a stack of papers and books, clearly out of his element. She thought maybe he was there for the same reason quiet study time though she had her doubts.

When the pattern repeated itself, though, Libby had to admit something odd was happening. Luke showed up at the coffee shop right when she ordered her regular, a steaming caramel macchiato. He somehow ended up sitting next to her in the huge lecture hall, despite having no real reason to be there. He started bringing up random facts about in economics, as if trying to make conversation in their econ class. Libby had no patience for it, but even she couldn’t deny the way he challenged her, poked at her intellectual comfort zone. And the more she pushed him away, the more he persisted.

“Do you have a reason for following me around?” Libby finally demanded one day after they ran into each other in the library for what felt like the hundredth time.

Luke looked up from his notes, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Who says I’m following you?”

“You sit next to me in class, even though you’ve never done it before.”

“Maybe I realized Econ is more fun with company.”

“You don’t even take notes.” libby said with clear annoyance.

“I have a great memory aka photographic memory,” Luke shot back with a wink.

Libby rolled her eyes, clearly fed up. “Look, if this is some kind of game, I’m not playing.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, the easy smile never leaving his face. “What makes you think it’s a game?”

“Because no one suddenly starts to follow around someone unless they have something they want.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “and what exactly would i want?”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Girls who don’t fall for the whole hockey player charm.”

Luke hesitated, unsure how to respond. Part of him knew she wasn’t entirely off base. But that didn’t mean he was going to give up just yet.

“I like a challenge,” he said with a shrug, flashing her a grin.

Libby scoffed. “Good luck with that, Hughes.”

And yet, she couldn’t help but notice the way he lingered just a little bit longer, his eyes never quite leaving her.

☆

Luke had noticed Libby sitting alone in the corner of the library for the past few days. Her nose buried in a textbook, surrounded by notebooks, and coffee cups. She was quiet and intense.

But there he was, walking up to her table, feeling the weight of his decision with every step. His friends had dared him. They had said it would be funny if he actually pulled it off. But deep down, Luke wasn’t sure why he wanted to get to know Libby. Maybe it was the challenge, or maybe it was because there was something about her that made him want to prove he could get through the wall she put up. Either way, he knew one thing for sure he was going to try.

He cleared his throat as he reached her table, leaning against the edge to keep his balance. Libby didn’t even look up, her eyes scanning the pages of her book with laser focus.

“what do you want hughes?” Libby said clearly annoyed of his presence

"Hey, Libby," he said, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out a little more nervous than he intended.

She didn’t respond. Her fingers flipped to the next page, like she hadn’t heard him at all.

Luke hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should continue or just walk away. But the thought of his friends would not let him back down now. He took a deep breath and tried again.

"I was, wondering if you’d want to study together for the upcoming econ test?" he asked, unsure of what he was really expecting. The words sounded stupid even to him, but he pushed forward. "I mean, we both know this material. Thought it might be easier to go over it with someone else, you know?"

Libby’s eyes flickered up to meet his, just for a brief second, before she went back to her book, clearly unimpressed.

"I study alone," she said, her voice flat and uninterested.

Luke didn’t take the rejection well, but he wasn’t about to let it go so easily. He had a point to prove, both to his friends and to himself. So, he pressed on.

"I get that. I mean, I do too," he said, trying to sound cool, like they were just two people casually discussing a study session. "But it’s just, uh, I heard you’re pretty good at this stuff. You know, the whole economic thing. And I figured you might want to go over a few things with me. Could help you out too, right?"

He could feel her staring at him, though she said nothing. He was so close now that he could almost see the tiny furrow in her brow, the slight irritation building behind her eyes. He knew this wasn’t going well, but Luke wasn’t the type to give up. He leaned in a little closer.

"I’m serious. I’m not asking for a charity case or anything," he added quickly, trying to sound more genuine. "I just thought it’d be a good way to get this over with."

Libby’s gaze stayed fixed on him for a long moment, studying him like he was some kind of puzzle she was trying to figure out. Luke braced himself for her to turn him down again, but then, to his surprise, she spoke.

"Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll study with you, but only if you leave me alone after this, especially with following me around."

Luke blinked, not sure if she was being sarcastic or serious, but he nodded quickly, trying to mask the sudden burst of excitement in his chest. "I get it. Just, you know, the studying part."

Libby gave him a curt nod. "Yeah, whatever. We’ll meet here tomorrow, same time." She turned her attention back to her notes, clearly signaling that the conversation was over.

Luke stood there for a moment, processing what had just happened. He’d actually gotten her to agree. He had spent so much time imagining how this would go, and it had ended with Libby of all people giving in. It wasn’t the most enthusiastic acceptance, but it was something. He smiled to himself, relieved that he hadn’t been shot down completely.

"Thanks, Libby," he said, his tone genuinely appreciative. "I won’t let you down."

She didn’t respond, her eyes now fixed firmly on her textbook as she scribbled notes with a speed that almost made Luke dizzy. He stood there for a moment longer, watching her, unsure of what else to say or do. Finally, he turned and walked away, the sound of her pen on paper the only noise filling the quiet of the library.

The next day, Luke showed up early, a little nervous but excited to see how it would go. He had never studied with someone like Libby before. She was serious, focused, and didn’t waste time with small talk. It was a stark contrast to his usual study sessions with his friends, where there was always some kind of distraction or joke in the air. But Luke was determined to make the most of it.

Libby was already there, sitting in the same spot, her books spread out in front of her. She didn’t even look up when he walked in, which, somehow, made Luke feel a little more at ease. He grabbed a chair, sitting down across from her, trying his best to ignore the fact that she was barely acknowledging his presence.

"Ready?" he asked, hoping to break the silence.

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she just gave him a quick glance, then sighed as she flipped through her notes.

"Let’s get this over with," she said, and Luke couldn’t help but grin.

She didn’t like him, but she had agreed to study. And for now, that was enough.

After a while, one study session became a whole month study session. In which both of them met twice a week to study together.

"That’s... impressive," he said, breaking the silence, his voice quiet but sincere.

Libby didn’t look up. "Yeah, well, it’s not that hard if you actually pay attention."

Luke chuckled, leaning against the table. "I don’t think I’ve ever been that focused on anything."

Libby finally glanced up at him, her expression unreadable. "Maybe you should start. Then you might pass the next test."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fair point. But I’m hoping you’ll be my secret weapon."

A small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I don’t do secret weapons," she said, her tone a little less harsh but still firm.

Luke smiled, feeling a brief sense of connection, even if it was just fleeting. "Alright, no secret weapons. Just trying to survive here."

For a long moment, there was just silence between them again. Luke shifted awkwardly, realizing he had no idea how to keep the conversation going. He wasn’t used to talking to someone who shut down his attempts at charm so easily. But there was something oddly comforting about it. She wasn’t impressed by him, and for the first time in a long while, Luke didn’t feel the need to prove himself.

Finally, he let out a quiet laugh. "I’ll leave you to it, then. See you tomorrow?"

Libby nodded without looking up. "Yeah. Don’t make me regret it."

Luke had always prided himself on being a guy who didn’t get emotionally attached. Relationships were messy. They took time, effort, and a lot of care. And that wasn’t something he was interested in. Not with his career on the line and his focus on hockey. But somehow, spending time with Libby made him rethink everything.

It wasn’t instant, but it was inevitable. He found himself waiting for their study sessions, looking forward to their debates in class, and wanting to hear her opinion on everything from the economy to the latest sports scandals. She was smart, sharp, and had a sense of humor that kept him on his toes. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he was just playing a part or living up to some stereotype. With Libby, he was himself.

☆

It happened one night, during one of their late-night study sessions. They had finished working on their assignments, and the conversation had shifted from academic talk to something more personal.

“You really hate hockey players, don’t you?” Luke asked, his voice quieter than usual.

Libby sighed, rubbing her temples. “It’s not that I hate hockey players. It’s just that I’ve seen how you guys treat people. You come, you charm, and you leave. I’m not falling for that.”

Luke hesitated, the weight of her words hitting harder than he expected. “Not all of us are like that.”

Libby shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just too cautious, but I’ve seen too many girls fall for that routine.”

Luke wasn’t sure how to respond, but the sincerity in her voice made him realize just how much he was beginning to care about her. He didn’t just want to prove her wrong.

There was a long pause, the tension between them thick. The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, but neither of them seemed in a hurry to break the silence. Luke’s mind raced, but he finally said what had been on his mind for a while now.

“Libby,” he started, his voice a little steadier now, though still laced with a touch of vulnerability, “we’ve been studying together for a month. And yeah, I get that you don’t really think highly of me or anyone for that matter. But... I’m not like that.”

She raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced, but she didn’t interrupt him.

“I’m not asking you to change your mind overnight,” he continued. “But I’d really like the chance to show you I’m different. To prove it, you know?” He took a deep breath. “At least go on one date with me. Just one. No pressure, no expectations. Just… a chance to get to know each other outside of these study sessions.”

Libby opened her mouth to respond, but Luke quickly added, “I’m not asking you to fall for me or anything, just let me take you out. And if you still think I’m just like every other hockey player after that, I’ll back off. I swear.”

There was a quiet moment where Libby just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Luke could feel his heart racing, wondering if he had just ruined everything, but at the same time, he was relieved to have said it. To have put it out there. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her answer to be, but he knew he couldn’t hide how he felt about her any longer.

Finally, she exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “You’re really persistent, aren’t you?”

Luke smiled a little, trying to lighten the mood. “You could say that.”

She considered him for a moment longer before her lips curved into a small, almost reluctant smile. “Alright. One date. But I’m warning you, you’ll have to work hard to convince me.”

Luke’s heart skipped a beat, a mix of relief and excitement flooding him. “Deal. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

She shrugged, but there was something soft in her eyes that Luke hadn’t seen before. “We’ll see.”

With that, they both stood up, packing away their things in silence, but something had shifted between them. Something subtle, yet undeniable. Luke walked away from the study session feeling lighter than he had in a long time, knowing that for the first time, he was truly starting to break through the wall Libby had so carefully built around herself.

“alright, friday then, we’ll meet at my dorm and then head somewhere” luke said before walking out of the library.

☆

It wasn’t until Libby accidentally overheard a conversation between Luke and his friends that she realized the full extent of what was going on.

She was walking to the library when she caught a snippet of conversation.

“…can’t believe you actually pulled it off,” Ethan was saying. “She totally fell for you.”

Libby froze in her tracks. The weight of his words hit her like a punch in the gut. She stood there, just outside their line of sight, trying to keep herself hidden behind the row of books in the library. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the words caught her off guard and dug deep. Her heart skipped a beat, her mind racing.

“Yeah, man,” Luke replied, sounding almost too casual, like it was no big deal. “I told you it’d work. Once I show her a little attention, she can’t resist.”

Libby’s stomach churned. Once I show her a little attention she can’t resist? Her pulse quickened, and she took a shaky step backward, the books in her arms suddenly feeling heavier. She wanted to leave, to run away and escape from the reality that was starting to settle on her. But something kept her frozen, something in the way Luke's voice sounded like he had no idea how much those words cut.

“I’ll give it a week,” Ethan laughed. “You’ll have her wrapped around your finger by then. You know how you are.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke muttered, a laugh escaping him. “I’ll make sure she has a good time. No need to worry.”

Libby couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation. She didn’t want to. The words echoed in her mind like an incessant drumbeat.

Libby had thought no, hoped that Luke was different. That maybe he wasn’t like all the other guys who had charmed their way in and out of her life. But as she replayed his words over and over, she couldn’t deny the sinking feeling in her chest. He had played her.

A part of her felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. How could she have been so naive? She had known what guys like him were like she’d seen it happen so many times before. The flirtation, the attention, the charm, and then, just as quickly, they moved on to the next girl, leaving behind a trail of disappointment. She had always sworn she wouldn’t fall for it. And now, here she was, feeling like she had walked right into the trap.

But the sting wasn’t just from the fact that he’d been playing her. It was from the fact that Luke seemed to believe it was all some kind of game something he could just turn on and off like a switch. Maybe he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Maybe he didn’t even realize what he was doing. But it didn’t matter. She had let herself get pulled in, thinking that there was more to him than that.

She stood there for a while, trapped in her own thoughts, until the sounds of his friends talking faded away. she had decided to come to the library a bit earlier then usual for there next study session bust after that conversation she went back to her dorm ghosting luke’s messages to see if she’s coming. She had already read them twice but hadn’t answered. Part of her wanted to tell him she wasn’t showing up, but another part of her just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the keyboard, but no words came.

Her fingers hovered over the screen again, and for the first time, she allowed herself to fully confront the fact that the trust she had begun to build with him was shattered. She had tried to convince herself that he wasn’t like the other guys the ones who came and went without a second thought. But now? She wasn’t so sure anymore.

She thought back to their first few study sessions, how she had actually started to enjoy spending time with him, how she believed he might actually be different. But now, the way he had spoken so nonchalantly, so carefree made her feel like nothing more than another notch in his belt. she didn’t admit it but she was starting to like him.

*What was I thinking?* she wondered. *I should’ve seen it coming.*

☆

Her phone buzzed again, this time a message from Luke. "Hey, are you still coming? i’m waiting for you. Let me know."

It’s been a couple days since they last talked. The words felt like a punch in the gut. It wasn’t just the fact that he was still trying to get her to show up it was how easy it seemed for him, like this was all a game. She had allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was something real there. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized how foolish she had been.

Libby stared at the text for a long time, not knowing what to do. She could go and face him, confront him about what she’d overheard. But the thought of seeing him, of hearing him casually brush it off like it was nothing, made her stomach turn.

So, she made a decision. She didn’t reply. Instead, she locked her phone and shoved it in her bag, the weight of it a reminder of everything she had tried to avoid everything she had hoped wasn’t true.

Back in his dorm, Luke checked his phone for the third time in a row, his heart sinking a little more each time. No response from Libby.

*Maybe she’s just busy,* he tried to tell himself. *She’s probably studying. She said she had work to do.*

"Man, you good?" Ethan asked, poking his head into Luke’s room.

Luke glanced up, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just waiting for Libby. She’s probably on her way."

Ethan gave him a skeptical look. "You sure? i thought you said you guys were gonna meet at the library? i doubt she’d ghost you, i mean you just asked her out.”

Luke's stomach dropped. *Ghost you.* He hated the way that sounded.

"I’m sure she didn’t." Luke said, but there was no conviction in his voice.

Ethan eyed him for a moment before shrugging. "Alright, man. Just don’t let this drag on. the semester is close to ending"

Luke didn’t respond.

☆

It had been a few days since Luke had last heard from Libby. The unanswered texts, the quiet air between them it weighed heavily on him. His mind raced, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Was she mad at him for something he said? Did she really think he’d been playing her all along?

He tried to shake it off, but something kept gnawing at him. He needed to talk to her. He needed to fix whatever happened.

Without another second of hesitation, Luke grabbed his jacket and made his way to Libby’s dorm. His heart hammered in his chest with every step. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he couldn’t just sit around waiting. He needed answers.

When he reached her building, the nervousness hit him harder. *What if she doesn’t even want to talk to me? What if I’ve ruined everything?* But he couldn’t back out now. Not after the hard work he put in to talk to her.

Luke knocked on her dorm door, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. He waited, shifting from foot to foot, hoping she’d answer. Moments passed, and just as he was about to knock again, the door opened.

Libby stood there, her arms crossed, her face expressionless. She looked almost distant, like she had already made up her mind about everything.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice colder than he expected.

Luke swallowed hard, his nerves threatening to betray him, but he pushed them down. “Libby, we need to talk. I don’t know what’s going on.”

She shook her head, the hurt in her eyes unmistakable. “No, Luke. We don’t need to talk. You need to leave.”

His stomach twisted at the finality in her tone. “What? Libby, please. Just hear me out”

“No, Luke,” she interrupted, her voice rising just a bit. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to waltz in here after what I overheard after what you said to make it seem like everything is okay.”

Luke blinked, confused and thrown off. “What are you talking about?”

“Is this how you see me?” Libby asked quietly, her voice cracking slightly. “Just another challenge for you to win? Another girl to charm, get close to, and then drop once you get what you want?”

Luke’s breath caught in his throat after realizing what she’s talking about. The look of betrayal in her eyes hit him harder than any physical blow.

“Libby, I—I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. It wasn’t like that. It was just”

“Just what, Luke?” she cut him off again, her voice steady now, but firm. “Just a bet? A game? You think I wouldn’t find out?” She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “I heard it with my own ears. You were talking to Ethan and the others, talking about how you could pull it off. About how I’d fall for you. About how it would be easy.”

Luke opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“No,” she said, her voice trembling now, but her resolve stronger than ever. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever it is, I don’t care. I don’t want to see you again, and I don’t want to talk to you again. Ever.”

His heart sank. “Libby, please. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. You’ve got to believe me, I wasn’t playing you. I care about you. I really do like you.”

Libby’s eyes softened for a split second, but only for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and looked at him with a finality he hadn’t expected.

“No. You don’t. Not the way you think you do. You don’t get to act like this is something you care about after everything I heard. You don’t get to tell me what’s real when you’ve been lying from the start.”

Luke’s chest tightened. He couldn’t find the words, the right words to make this right. He’d messed up. He had been selfish. He’d been careless with her trust.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could manage to say. The words felt too small for the weight of what had happened.

“I don’t need your apologies, Luke. I need you to leave.”

His heart broke all over again as he stared at her, seeing the pain in her eyes, feeling the distance between them grow with each passing second.

Without another word, Luke turned to walk away, the heavy feeling in his chest making it feel like every step he took was an effort. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He knew he’d lost her. And this time, there was no coming back from it.

Libby closed the door softly behind him, her heart aching, but relieved. The door was closed now. The distance was real. She would never let herself fall for someone like him again.

Libby didn’t know what to think anymore. Luke had broken her trust. The bet was one thing, but hearing him confess his feelings so casually, like it was just some passing remark, left her feeling more betrayed than she cared to admit. She’d told him time and time again that she didn’t want to be a part of his games, but now it seemed like that was exactly what he had turned her into.

For days, Luke tried reaching out. Texts, calls, small gestures. But Libby wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. She couldn’t trust him anymore, and the walls she’d spent years building to protect herself from people like him felt taller than ever.

But Luke wasn’t about to give up, not when he finally understood that what he felt for her wasn’t just about the challenge.

It wasn’t at a game or a party, but in a quiet corner of the campus library that Luke finally caught her alone.

“Libby,” Luke said softly, his voice a little rough. She didn’t look up at first, but he didn’t let that deter him. He stepped closer to her table, his presence impossible to ignore. “Can we talk?”

Libby glanced at him briefly before her gaze fell back to the book she was pretending to read. She could feel the familiar sting of hurt, but something in his tone made her pause.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” she said, though her voice lacked the usual edge.

Luke’s expression softened. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he began, “I should have told you sooner, but I got caught up in the bet. And I... I didn’t think I’d actually fall for you. I never expected this.”

Libby’s lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t speak.

“I like you and i know already told you,” he continued, his words slower now, more deliberate. “Not because of the challenge, not because of some stupid bet. But because of who you are. I know I messed up, and I’m sorry.”

Libby’s gaze lifted from the book to meet his eyes, searching for the sincerity she needed to hear. “You’ve been persistent,” she murmured, the words almost to herself. “But I’m not sure if you even know what you’re saying.”

Luke took a step closer, lowering his voice. “I know what I’m saying, Libby. I don’t want you to be another bet. You mean more to me than that, and I’ve messed up, but I want to make it right.”

The silence between them hung thick for a moment, the weight of his words settling. Libby looked at him, her heart torn, but the earnestness in his eyes made her hesitate.

“I need time,” she whispered, her heart racing. “But I’ll think about it.”

Luke smiled, the tension in his body loosening just a little. “I’ll wait.”

And for the first time, Libby allowed herself to believe that maybe just maybe there was a chance for something real between them after all, but she wasn’t going to give in right now.

[ethosiab]

Anything slabtek? 👉👈 Would be super interested to see them from your sci-fi au!!

hi jammmm <3 you get 3 scifi au slabteks because i got really in the groove. and some related facts below so they're not completely contextless bc i want to ramble

(Img 1) theyre actually room-mates in the au because im a sucker for that lol. After etho had recovered from the injuries that erm. Made pause and Beef think he was dead, he stayed in a room provided by the foundation for a few weeks while he sorted himself out a little. That... wasn't working completely, he was kind of a mess since his memory was all fucked up and his entire support system had fallen from underneath him. Tango, who knew etho a little from some work they'd done together in the past, and who took over for ethos duties quite a bit while he was getting back on his feet, offered him a place in his apartment so etho would have a stable place to stay and not have the foundation on his back about finding a home all the time.

Etho only intended for it to be a short arrangement, he didnt know tango that well and he doesnt know all of what tango knows about him because he can't remember the past few months of his life. It just became easy, is all, because tango spends a lot of time away from home while on work trips, and needs someone to mind the house. So it became a little more permanent, and they settled into a routine with each other.

God knows they both have horrible self care when it comes to sleep schedules and overworking and forgetting to eat, so they tend to be able to keep each other accountable when they're both home.

Etho sleeps on tangos couch still, but its one of those ones that pulls out into a bed, so its really fine.

I don't know how long it takes Joel to figure out that these guys live together but its gotta be a slightly comically long time

(img 2) The Citadel is Tango's ship that he maintains, and while it's not technically his, he's worked for the company long enough and is such a good pilot/mechanic that he's kind of got that guarantee that he'll be the one flying and in charge of maintaining it on jobs

which also means he can get away with some modifications that he wouldn't otherwise be able to, given he's trusted. some of them are straight up illegal, some of them are simply in breach of contracts that state he's meant to get approval before making modifications

He doesn't intend to tell Etho about these at first (because duh step 1 to not getting caught is not telling anyone), but when he gives Etho a proper tour of the ship, Etho notices. Instead of telling tango off or accusing him of sabotaging the foundation, however, Etho's just mostly curious about the modifications themselves. I would consider this the stage at which their friendship really starts to blossom, where tangos been more vulnerable with etho as well.

(Img 3) closer to immediately pre-canon theyre very comfortable around each other :] its not just tangos apartment anymore, its their apartment, and its ethos home too.

Doesnt stop them from always making jokes about tango coming back from a trip to find the place upside down (etho probably has played a few pranks on him before where he'll shift around some of tangos carefully organised chaos and time how long it takes him to realise when he gets back)

So uh. Theyre room-mates. Housemates. Not solely friends, not labelled a QPR. And if you ask them if they're dating they'll both get really uncomfortable and ungracefully switch the topic <3

[youleftmenochoicebut]

Part two of gold rush where they get their cottage in whales please 🙏🏽

PEACE — regulus black.

SUMMARY. — you and Regulus live happily ever after. that's it.

PAIRING. — regulus black x fem!pureblood!reader

WARNINGS. — fluff, kinda au cause reg doesnt get the dark mark

A/N. — i didnt plan on doing a part 2 but oh well <3 anyways! heres part 1; this is so short im sorry!!!

war is over. as much as you can't believe it, it's true. Voldemort is dead, mostly thanks to Regulus' brother and his friends' actions, and to the Order's activity. it ended weeks ago.

meanwhile, you and your husband have been hiding here for the past three years, ever since graduating Hogwart's. you've been hiding, like cowards, and unfortunately you can't feel shame or embarrassment in that regard. at least you're alive, unlike some of your friends. Evan didn't make it, which led to Barty's psychotic break. Dorcas' girlfriend, Marlene and her family didn't make it, killed by Voldemort personally this summer. Peter, who turned out to be a traitor, didn't make it either. there are a lot more loses on both sides of the war, of course, but you try not to think about it much.

it's early morning when you sit on the edge of your shared bed, reading through the letter from Lily that your owl just delivered. you take in the latest news from London, a small smile on your face. Lily's pregnant again, Sirius and Remus moved in together into Grimmauld Place, Mary's got a new cat. it all seems so mundane, after months and months of bad information, you shake your head at it.

you place the letter on your nightstand, then settle back to bed, turning around to find Regulus staring at you sleepily. your baby girl is still fast asleep in her crib by your bed.

"what's with the letter, huh?" Regulus rasps out, reaching his hand out to graze his fingers over your bare shoulder, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "is it Lily or Remus?"

"s'Lily. m'gonna write her back later after you read it." you murmur, careful to keep your voice down, and you sigh. "i have to feed Astra. can you make pancakes for breakfast?"

"sure." your husband nods, leans in to plant a quick peck on the bridge of your nose (he knows how much you despise morning breath), and gets up. as you watch him leave the bedroom you thank Merlin that he sleeps in only his boxers, and you can ogle his backside like a horny teenager as he walks away.

you roll onto your back, letting out a heavy breath, then glance at the crib just few feet from you, your four month old sucking on her dummy with her eyes already wide open.

almost forty-five minutes pass before you finally go downstairs. Astra is fed, changed and completely awake, swaddled in a baby wrap close to your chest. your steps are slow and deliberate as you make your way into the kitchen, where you are met with the sight of Regulus moving around the space, humming some tune under his breath whilst flipping pancakes. you stand in the doorway, just watching him happily before Astra betrays you with a bubbly shrieking laugh, her eyes focused on her daddy too.

"i'm almost done, ladies." your husband looks up at you, nodding you to come closer, and so you do. you lean back against the kitchen island, your hands resting under Astra's swaddled body, making sure she's held up alright. your baby keeps sending Regulus toothless smiles, cooing and babbling. she's been like this for only a few days after she hit a milestone.

you spend your days in peace like that. being a family. sometimes you go out for walks in the nearby woods, letting Astra nap in the fresh air. sometimes you sit in your garden, by the pond. sometimes you don't leave the house, lounging around all day and marvelling at the miracle your daughter was. today is one of these days. so domestic, most would deem boring. but that's what you love.

when you and Regulus go to bed that night, it's late. past midnight. you're certain Astra is starting teething, because she's been fussy ever since her afternoon nap. for now she's back asleep in her crib, although tossing and turning a bit, and you stare up at the ceiling mindlessly. you feel Regulus' hand creep over your body and resting on your hip, but you're too tired to even look at him now.

"ma chérie." he whispers, his thumb moving over your hip in soothing circles, and his other hand grips your chin lightly, turning your head in his direction. "hi."

"hi." you whisper back, nibbling on your lower lip as you stare into his grey eyes. you snuggle closer to him, your head resting on his chest and your arms wrap around his torso. "Merlin, you're always so cold."

Regulus snorts, and without looking up you know he's rolling his eyes, squeezing you in with his hands settling on your bum. you shiver at the feeling, reaching down to pull the covers over the two of you, and the moment you close your eyes a piercing wail sounds out from the crib. you practically jump out of bed, but Regulus brings you back down.

"stay. i'll go"

[yok00k]

telepatía

pairing: idol!jk x model!oc

genre: fluff!

“a kilómetros estamos conectando”

—synopsis: when you’re getting ready for a party and jungkook, who’s thousands kilometers away from you, wants to video call.

word count: 1,082

warning: ldr, they’re disguisingly so cute, the word “baby” was said for about 1 million times it’s sickening, different timezones, oc dress in front of jk, mention of insomnia, anxiety, stress, mention of an uncomfy situation of oc where other men were being men, protective jk (this jk is not a manipulator, trust), 1st person pov(im so sorry)

author’s note: my second drabble/fluff!!! this was shorter than I wanted it to be but there will be few (idk how many, it depends to the future me) series of idol!jk x model!oc. <the meaning of ‘mahal ko’ means ‘my love’ in filipino>

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Taking a cold shower after having an intense leg day plus cardio at the gym hits so different. I feel like a brand new person after getting out of my bathroom. I then settle down in front of my vanity table and begin doing my skin care + makeup. As I finished a smooth base of foundation, my phone vibrated.

2 messages received from

mahal ko🐰🤍

|| hey baby

|| can we facetime plz? wanna see u

[10:33 pm]

his text was unanticipated at this hour since it’s 5 am in Korea.

me

|| sure bb

[10:34 pm]

mahal ko wants to facetime

drop everything i have with my hands, i swiftly hit the green button, eagerly to see and hear his voice. we’re mostly texting these days because of having different time zones and working schedules to follow. Oftentimes when he’s free and wants to facetime me, I would be either at work or sleeping and vice versa.

“hi pretty!!” he cheerfully greeted me as my phone screen revealed his cute sleepy face. As usual, he’s wearing one of the eight Supreme beanies i got for him when I was in Tokyo. [side story: i was just strolling in the streets of Harajuku when i found this one clothing store that has a lot of stuffs i know jungkook would like and that’s when i bought those comfy beanies along with other nice things]^_^

“helloo, my ggukie can't sleep?” i asked while finding something i can lean my phone on so that i can continue doing my makeup

“응.. i'm trying to sleep but can’t.“ he simply explained as he placed his phone on the side of his bed, moving his naked body to a more comfortable lying position. His arm filled with cool, artistic tattoos is out and on sight, while his other arm were covered with the thick white comforter, so as his entire body.

“What's been going on in your mind?” I know that something is bothering him at times like this. i get that having the job and lifestyle he has, isn’t merely easy. the pressure, the media, the fans, everything. But although he deals with all these things, I never once heard him complain about them because he knows that that’s what he signed up for the day he chose to pursue being an idol.

“Just been stressed lately with rehearsals and I'm still jet lagged, maybe I have insomnia? ‘m not sure but it’s driving me crazy. now i get what u mean when u say ur body is tired and ready to sleep but ur mind isn’t.” he further describes how he feels. The worry and anxiety is written in his facial expression.

“my poor kookie you could’ve call me earlier and i would help you to fall asleep”

“but you were at the gym. i know you like blasting reggaeton music while working out.” he pouty responds. well, in his defense he’s right. I love that he remembers small details about me but nothing can top my love for him.

“i do that but I prefer listening to my boyfriend’s angelic voice while working out so that i’ll have motivation to do more reps.” replied to him right off the bat. realistically i meant what i said. I usually don’t like talking to people when doing workouts but he is an exception.

I received no words but a soft laugh. He must have thought I was kidding. I took a glance at him before I put lipgloss on[his favorite shade].

i can see him covering the blush he has all over his face. i'm very glad to see him having relief.

‘’Where is my pretty girl up to? hmm?” he curiously asks as i put highlights as my last step to finish up the look

“just going to the club for Sakura’s birthday party, i'm running out of social energy almost every day because of work and parties but I can't miss this event” I explained as I headed over to my walk-in closet.

“hmm ‘kay tell her i said happy birthday. what are you gonna wear?”

“well i'm debating on wearing a black leather mini skirt with this asymmetrical black top and for shoes i have this black knee high boots or i just go with this simple black mini backless dress with these red bottoms high heels” i say as i show him all the clothes. he and I almost have the same taste in fashion. if we were to combine all of our clothes, they are pretty much all black. whenever it’s shoes, jackets, tops, pants, etc. this is why buying clothes for one another isn’t difficult for us.

“What did I tell you about mini skirts bb?” oh. i forgot that he allows me to wear mini skirts unless i’m with him since an incident happened when i was in the club and random guys were making me so uncomfortable by giving disguising lust looks and nastily commenting on my skirts. Although he and I know that no matter what a girl wears, guys in the clubs will act like animals regardless. He told me to not wear it because he’s controlling me but rather because he won’t be there to protect me if something happens.

“ok then the second choice it is” i confirmed, putting the first outfit choice back to where they belong.

“how about you wear that mini skirt when we go on a date? how’s that sound?” he suggests.

“ok then ggukie”

“dress in front of me?” he boyishly asks, using his deep alluring voice. He definitely knows what he’s doing. How can I say no to him?

After dressing, I proceeded to put on the Cartier necklace with his initials in it that he gifted to me when he first came to visit my penthouse in Chicago.

“still have my oversized leather jacket with you?” he inquire before he yawned

“yupp, why?” I curiously asked

“bring it with you please. i don’t want you getting cold in there” he softly requested. him and his simple gestures make me fall in love with him deeper.

“i will baby thank you”

“i love you ___, don’t look at other men” jk murmur jokingly. Well, I hope he said that in a humorous way for the reason that I assure him with my sincere words almost every hour.

“ I love you more gguk i’ll update you ok?” he just hums, waving his hands leisurely to say goodbye.

[lackinggravitas]

god, this got... long. nearly 6k words long. not sure how that happened, lmao.

i’ve been overthinking this chapter for too long, sitting on it too long. been busy, graduating in a week. im writing this note at like... midnight. sorry if i'm incoherent. anyways. this fic is fun to write. next chapter won't be nearly this long. uh. yep. i think thats it. enjoyyy

ao3 vers

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 (you are here!) / part 7 (eventually)

Ford was off like a shot as soon as the sounds erupted, and Fiddleford was helpless to do anything except follow, stumbling after him through his patterned maze of hallways. Gizmos and gadgets were strewn about on seemingly every floor in every room, with enough paper to set a forest on fire littered about everywhere too. 

There was a raucous cacophony of barking and what sounded like shrill screaming echoing off the maze of Ford’s cabin, rattling through the quaint halls and setting Fiddleford’s hair on edge and his heart thumping like a rabbit’s in his chest. 

Lordy, first Stanley and now this? Fiddleford thought, flabbergasted,  as he followed Ford down another turn. Is this place some sorta weirdness magnet?

Ford awkwardly clambered over what looked to be some sort of complicated, hodge-podged machine that not even Fiddleford could parse the design of, that had fallen in the hallway. The way he swung over it without missing a beat, clearly not surprised at all to see it there, spoke volumes. Namely, that Ford hadn’t gotten any better about keeping tidy since their shared dorm room in college. 

Only Stanford could get himself into a situation like this, Fiddleford thought, following after him as quick as he could, scrambling over the machine. With a laboratory in the woods, living with his feral brother that he refuses to admit is his brother. Fer’ some reason. 

They drew closer and closer to the noises, until suddenly Ford turned a corner and- oh. 

Remus- Stanley- their new friend was hunched on the floor, still on all fours (did he know how to walk? The thought made Fiddleford’s heart stir uncomfortably in his chest)- and presently busying himself with shaking something around in his mouth, not unlike how a dog might a toy. The motion was all a blur - Fiddleford couldn’t even see what he was holding. 

Then he realized the shrill noise was coming from the creature in Stanley’s mouth.

“Good Lord in Heaven!” Fiddleford yelped, not sure whether to jump in or run the opposite direction and settled to just tug anxiously at his hair instead. “Just what in tarnation is goin’ on in here?!”

There was a dash of blood on the linoleum, the jagged shards of a smashed ceramic laying in pieces on the ground. The mere sight of blood alone sent Fiddleford’s pulse skyrocketing, but then he finally caught sight of what Stanley - definitely not ‘Remus’, Lord knows he shouldn’t be playin’ into Stanford’s delusions - actually had in his mouth, and really it was a wonder Fiddleford’s heart hadn’t given out on him yet.

There was a small man between Stanley’s jaws, screaming and flailing one of his arms angrily. He seemed too big to actually fit in Stanley’s mouth - Stanley had to awkwardly bite into his side, holding him by grip strength mostly, as the other half dangled like a too-big fish.

This didn’t seem to be too much of a setback for Stanley though, as he shook the small man vigorously, like he was trying to shake the living daylights out of him.

“Gavin!” another shrill voice yelled in distress, and Fiddleford turned to see - oh sweet baby Jesus, there’s two of ‘em.

There was another little man in a pointy red hat like a garden gnome, this one wielding a fork like a weapon that he didn’t know how to use. He looked shaky and overwhelmed and, frankly, Fiddleford could relate.

“Harry!” The gnome-like little bugger apparently named Gavin, currently being shaken out of his wits in Stanley’s mouth, swung his free arm at his companion, yelling at him, “Harry, you useless idiot, do something!”

Harry shook like a leaf, taking a swing with his fork at Stanley. It was a weak hit - it didn’t even connect. “B-back! Unhand him, foul demon!”

“Would you quit dicking around?!” Gavin shrilled, flailing his free arm in blind panic and rage, eyes wild. “I don’t want to die here, you- you-!”

Predictably, Ford got his wits about him and bearings back much faster than Fiddleford - he sprung forward, jumping into the scene with a recklessness that made Fiddleford yelp. “Remus!” Ford yelled, more disapproving than angry, “Let go of him!”

His hands snapped around the other half of Gavin, grabbing him and trying to pull him out of Stanley’s mouth. This only made Stanley growl louder and bite down harder, and Fiddleford could see tiny pricks of blood bubbling up from where Stanley’s teeth sank into the gnome. Gavin only got louder, cursing cracking up an octave. 

“You can’t eat gnomes!” Ford tried, yanking the gnome - and Stanley along with it - closer to himself. “They’ve been vital to my research so far, you can’t just-!”

“What on earth am I even looking at here?” Fiddleford’s hands were in his own hair again and pulling anxiously without even having to think about it, eyes ping-ponging wildly across the room. The gnomes (honest to God, actual, living gnomes), Ford, and Stanley. He felt faint. 

Stanley growled loudly, biting down and pulling back, shaking his head like he was trying to dislodge Ford’s grip. 

They’re playing tug-a-war with a gnome, Fiddleford thought hysterically. 

“LIBERTY OR DEATH!” Harry cried suddenly, charging forward with his fork extended out like a short sword, going right for Stanley.

Like a cavaliering knight, he struck right in the arm, slamming into Stanley and wrenching the prongs of the fork into him. Stanley dropped Gavin immediately, almost instinctively, letting a sharp yip of surprise and springing away from the attack - but the fork was already stuck deep into his forearm.

Fiddleford felt nauseous just looking at the blunt, inflexible hand of the fork stabbed into Stanley’s arm like a spear. He felt even sicker when Stanley looked down at it, whined, and then promptly closed his teeth around the handle and yanked it out. 

Fiddleford wasn’t sure if he was going to faint or throw up. He felt very lightheaded. 

Without Stanley to balance him, Ford went toppling over almost comically, rear hitting the floor with a thump, still gripping the wiggling gnome tightly. Expression almost dazed with confusion, he looked over at Stanley perplexedly, like he didn’t understand why he let go. Then his gaze snagged on the bloodied metal prongs of the fork Stanley held between his teeth, and his eyes widened.

“You-” Ford looked down at the gnomes, at Stanley, back and forth again. Eyes wide, incredulous and surprised. “This is utterly preposterous. What on earth is going on?”

“Your naked brother is a monster, man!” Harry said (a gnome. A talking gnome. Fiddleford was looking at a talking gnome). He scurried over to Ford’s side. “A monster!”

“He’s not my-”

“All we wanted was to go through your pantry and take all your sugar packets and jams,” Gavin hissed, weird little voice laced with pain and bubbling with anger. “And this guy just flew at us!”

Ford looked down at Gavin like he was surprised to find him still in his hands. He quickly set him down next to Harry, who scurried over to his fellow gnome’s side and helped him up, a supportive arm wrapping around Gavin’s shoulders, despite his grumbling protests. 

“Not even a ‘hello, how do you do’!” Harry added as guided Gavin’s arm to rest around his shoulders. “He just went crazy, barking and everything, and when Gavin tried to att- negotiate, your friend over here lunged at him and started shaking him like a frisbee!”

“Not. Cool.” Gavin said thinly, face pursed with pain.

“Not cool at all,” Harry agreed vehemently. “Why do you have this freak around?”

Stanley growled loudly, both in warning and, seemingly, in unhappiness. He looked like he wanted to lunge at them again, but with his eyes flicking to Ford and Stanley himself heavily favoring his weight on one arm, he didn’t seem like he was about to make any sudden moves. He still glowered at the gnomes, not letting up his growling, but he didn’t move either. 

Fiddleford looked up at Ford to see Ford’s eyes also examining Stanley, thoughtful. After a moment he huffed, turning back to the gnomes. “Right. Well, I’m sure he just thought he was defending our, ah, territory, so to speak. He doesn’t exactly understand speech.”

“Yeah, we gathered that,” Gavin grouched. “He’s like a dumb animal. Did he get dropped on his head or something?”

Ford’s expression pinched. “Remains to be seen,” he said awkwardly.

How old was he when they lost him again? Fiddleford thought, racking his mind for the late night whispers and drunken mumblings Ford had traded with him in pieces, years and years ago. ‘bout five, wasn’t he?

…sweet Lord, Fiddleford thought suddenly, with a sickening, plunging feeling. He was Tater’s age. 

“You watch what you say,” Fiddleford blurted out heatedly, words cutting sharply through the air before he could even realize he was saying them. He continued, “He’s had a rough go of things. Ain’t his fault y’all… spookums broke in and started messin’ ‘round, probably scarin’ him half to death.”

Gavin glared at him. “Spookums? Did you call us spookums?”

“We’re a proud race of forest gnomes,” Harry said hotly. “Maybe you should watch what you say.”

Fiddleford put his hands on his hips, furrowing his brow. “Now hold on now. Y’all can’t just breakin’ into people’s houses and get mad when somebody gets mad ‘atcha! If you didn’t want to get in trouble, you shouldn’t go poking your heads in the badger’s den.” 

“We’re gnomes, man. Breaking-in is what we do!” Harry said, voice raising slightly as his shoulders hunched, eyes going fierce. “You’re the weirdos with this guy hanging around in your house.” He gestured disdainfully towards Stanley. “Some things are better left in the woods, man.”

Fiddleford made an offended noise, like a kettle about to blow its lid. He couldn’t get the image of Tate’s little face out of his head - had Stanley looked like that? 

He was about to snap back before Ford interrupted him-

“Let’s not get too emotional,” Ford tried, clearly aiming for his voice to be smooth, casual and professional-like, but ending up falling somewhere closer towards too stiff, tense. “This is all just an… unfortunate accident on everyone’s parts. Let’s be civilized about this.”

Gavin scoffed. “Yeah, tell that to him,” he glared in Stanley’s direction, letting out a mocking sound as though to mimic Stanley’s growling.

His own growling racketing up, Stanley shifted like he was about to move forward, but Ford hastily stepped between them. “Please don’t antagonize him,” Ford said, more like an order than a request, “There’s no need. I have the situation under control now.” 

“Yeah,” Fiddleford piped up, “You leave him alone.”

He glanced towards Stanley’s hunched form, the thin specks of blood that the fork had drawn, the way he held that arm aloft not like a human, but like a dog might with an injured leg. A cold shudder blustered through Fiddleford. 

Lord, man, Fiddleford thought, what happened to you?

Fiddleford had a five year old boy at home. Ford himself was proof that one can in fact retain memories of that time with some level of clarity - incredible clarity, if you're Ford. A five year old can walk and talk, form memories, can be plenty cognizant of their surroundings. A five year old boy doesn’t just forget how to be a human. 

Something had to have happened. And just the thought of what that could have been terrified Fiddleford more than he could say. 

What if it had been Tate?

“You guys should control your weird friend,” Gavin grumbled. “‘coulda mauled me to death.” 

“Right, well, you survived,” Ford said, with more brusqueness than was polite - really though, knowing him, he probably thought he was being comforting.

“We’d like an apology,” Harry piped up. 

“Yeah. Maybe a token of your regrets, too…” Gavin agreed, looking meaningfully towards the fridge. 

Ford frowned, more confusion than anything else. “What is there to apologize for? It's not as though you died. You'll get better.”

Stanley was looking tenser and tenser by the minute, glancing up at Ford periodically with a mixture of confusion and apprehension. His arm was still bleeding sluggishly, Fiddleford noticed, tucked tight and protective to his chest.

A drop of his blood rolled down his arm and hit the floor with the smallest of sounds.

Fiddleford felt the last of his rapidly depleting patience fray. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said suddenly, crossing his arms and affecting an immovable sternness into his voice only a man with a toddler at home could achieve, “Clear out, the both of ya. You’ve overstayed yer welcome ‘round here.”

“Wh- hey!” Harry protested as Fiddleford started shooing them away, towards the open kitchen window they’d presumably come from. “You can’t just kick us out without even-”

“I can, and I’m doin’ it,” Fiddleford said, ushering them out. “Shoo, shoo ya varmint! Don’t you go comin’ back here for a long while!”

“We won’t stand for this! We’re the gnomes of the forest, we won’t just be- ack!” Fiddleford leaned down and scooped Gavin and Harry, tucking both of them under his arms like one would unruly toddlers. Gavin let out a hiss of pain as his injured side was jostled, and Harry let out a hiss of indignant rage as he was easily lifted. 

Both gnomes under his arms, he marched them both to the window. 

“You’re going to regret this!” Harry shrilled angrily, flailing and struggling, punching Fiddleford’s arm and side without avail. “We gnomes are not to be trifled with! We’re a powerful race!”

“Yeah, yeah, y’all have fun wit’ that.” Fiddleford shuffled his grip on them, holding them by the backs of their shirts out the window. “See y’all later now.” 

Harry and Gavin both hit the ground with twin thumps, Gavin letting out a groan of pain and clutching his side, glaring up at Fiddleford heatedly. Harry, to his credit, rushed to his buddies side, helping him up. He glowered up at Fiddleford. “You will regret this. Gnomes are terrible enemies to have-” 

“That’s real nice for you, bye now,” Fiddleford said, and shut the window on both of them. 

The click of the lock latching into place was more of a relief than Fiddleford expected. He let out a deep, drawn out sigh, closing his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Stanley’s growling had stopped sometime around when Fiddleford first grabbed the gnomes. When Fiddleford cracked an open, he could see Stanley peering at him intently now, clearly weighing him consideringly in his mind, though in what way Fiddleford hadn’t the darndest clue. 

“That was maybe not the best move,” Ford started slowly, startling Fiddleford a bit - he’d honestly forgotten his friend was even there for a moment. “I know they might seem unthreatening, but the gnomes can indeed be quite terrifying when they all set their minds to it-”

“I don’t even know where to begin with the fact that there are honest to God, real living gnomes running around,” Fiddleford interrupted. “I ain’t about to start pondering their power of teamwork or what have you.” 

Fiddleford looked at his hands, then shuddered. 

“They aren’t venomous to the touch, are they? Diseased or anything?” He started looking around the kitchen, hands held aloft. “I should wash my hands, just to be sure.” 

“I believe the word you are looking for is actually ‘poisonous’. And no, they’re not - trust me, I’ve handled them many times before and suffered no ill effects.” 

“Thank the Lord,” Fiddleford sighed. “‘kay then. So, gnomes?”

Ford folded his hands behind his back. “Gnomes, yes. My apologies for not warning you sooner, I just didn’t think it would come up this early.” 

Ford drew in a breath, lifted his head, straightened his shoulders - his clear tell for an oncoming lecture. 

“You see, Gravity Falls is a very strange town, filled with all sorts of anomalous and magical entities, such as those gnomes. I’ve been studying the properties and creatures of this Weirdness - that’s how I met Remus over here.” He nodded towards Stanley. “We likely won’t be interacting much with any of it, due to the nature of our work, but it is best to let you know, to mitigate any more surprises.”

Won’t be interacting much with it. Fiddleford let out a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good ‘ta hear at least. I don’t reckon my heart could take too many more scares like that, at least not without a bit of mental and physical preparation.” 

“Of course. I can assure you that other than the gnomes, most anomalies tend to stay in the woods, and not in my kitchen.” Ford glanced down at the shattered remains of some ceramic fixture, and the gnome-blood on the floor, and he frowned. “Hm. I should probably clean that up.” 

“Yes, you probably should. Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt now.” 

“No, of course- oh!” Ford froze, like he was suddenly remembering something. He turned to Stanley. “Oh, Remus! I’d almost forgotten!”

Stanley was hunkered down and, now that Fiddleford was paying attention, making low, unhappy noises, arm still held aloft protectively. He looked up at Ford with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, eyes narrowed. 

“You were injured in that scuffle, were you not?” Ford dropped to his knees, shifting forward to brazenly grab at Stanley’s injured arm, as though Stanley wasn’t a feral man with seemingly no understanding of English and an already apparent tendency towards violence. Ford grasped his arm, pulling and turning it so he could get a good look at the injury. “Blast, these are some deep wounds for an injury from a fork, Remus. We’ll need to clean this in case of infection.”

Stanley growled warningly, trying to pull his arm away. Fiddleford felt his heart stutter slightly in fear. 

But Ford just pulled back at him, refusing to let go. He tsked. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, you're fine. Fiddleford, would you fetch me my first aid kit? I believe there’s one in the cabinet underneath the sink.”

Indeed there was one, pressed up amidst the cleaning supplies and jars filled with items Fiddleford would really rather not spend any time thinking about. He quickly fished out the kit and shut the cabinet door.

“Thank you,” Ford said as Fiddleford handed the white box to him. He deftly popped it open with one hand, the other still holding Stanley’s arm, and unscrewed the cap of a bottle of what looked to be homemade antiseptic. It was green, watery and slightly iridescent under the light, and Ford doused a liberal amount of it right onto Stanley’s injury.

Stanley snarled, loud and surprised, attempting to yank his arm back. Ford just tightened his grip.

“I know, I know,” Ford sighed. He rubbed Stanley’s arm with his thumb, showing more gentleness than Fiddleford ever thought possible of the blunt, awkward man he knew from college. “It hurts, doesn’t it? I’m sorry, but I can’t let you get an infection.”

He set the antiseptic aside carefully, his now freed hand reaching up to card six fingers through Stanley’s hair with a shocking amount of tenderness.

“There, you’re alright. That's over now.” He huffed, shaking his head a bit. “I’d reprimand you for being so foolish as to pick a fight with those gnomes, but it seems you’ve learned your lesson. Perhaps a little more harshly than is even necessary.” He patted Stanley’s arm, frowning at the injury there. “I think I’m starting to understand why some of the townsfolk dislike the gnomes, honestly.”

Ford sighed, his arms snaking around Stanley, tipping his head to mumble to him. 

“We best install some sort of reinforcement to keep those gnomes out. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt, now would we?” Stanley sighed, slumping into Ford’s arms. Ford propped his chin on top of Stanley’s head contentedly. “No, I won’t have you getting hurt at all, not if I can help it.”

Feeling like an intruder in a private moment, Fiddleford busied himself with awkwardly snagging the bottle of antiseptic and screwing its cap back on as quietly and unintrusively as he could. 

Ford glanced over at him, giving an approving nod, before turning his attention back to Stanley, who seemed to have calmed down significantly under Ford’s attention, slumping against him trustingly, breathing slowly. Ford scratched lightly at his scalp affectionately. “We better get some salve on that arm, hm?”

Sitting on his now idle hands, Fiddleford looked away, wanting to give them some semblance of privacy but also not wanting to draw attention to himself by moving elsewhere. This felt like something he should leave them alone for - he’d never seen Ford act this… what was the word? Touchy? Emotionally-open? 

He’d never seen Ford act like this without inhibition of a few drinks to loosen his tongue up, or a blanket of night to provide him some sense of secrecy.

Aware of it or not, Ford’s brother seemed to bring out a different side to him. A heart alongside his brains. Not to say that Ford was heartless or anything! Fiddleford knew better than anyone how much Ford cared, sometimes - he just wasn’t always the best at showing it- not that he never-

“Fiddleford?” Jolting a bit at his name being called, Fiddleford turned to see Ford looking at him. “Would you mind grabbing that small glass container in the first aid kit? Yes, that’s the one- now, would you be so kind as to apply some of that gel to Remus’s arm here? Just on the injury.” 

Hands tightening around the small, roughly four-ounce jar. Fiddleford’s eyes widened a bit. He glanced over to Stanley, who had Ford's gaze towards Fiddleford, expression unreadable, yet watchful. “Uh, you sure ‘bout that, Stanford?”

Ford looked at him as though he couldn't possibly understand what the problem was. “Certainly. Remus warmed up to me quite a bit when I did the same, it’s the easiest way for you to gain his trust.” Ford patted Stanley on the head like one might the hood of a reliable old car. “He’s very intelligent. He’ll understand you aren’t trying to hurt him.” 

Fiddleford swallowed, shrinking back a bit. “I… I dunno, Stanford, I mean, saying hello to him earlier was one thing, but smart or not he still thinks he’s a wild animal…” He’d seen just a minute ago how hard Stanley could bite when he wanted to.

“Come on now, Fiddleford, it’s only Remus. He won't hurt you. Furthermore, you and him having a positive relationship will be beneficial not only for our research, but also for our living situation. I can’t supervise the two of you at all times, you’ll need to be able to at least coexist peacefully.” Ford snaked his arms even further around Stanley, completely enveloping him in a tight embrace. “Here, I’ll even hold him still, for your peace of mind.” 

“Goody,” Fiddleford mumbled, fumbling to pop the cap off the jar with suddenly shaky hands. He couldn’t stop picturing the way Stanley’s teeth had been embedded into that gnome, the force behind that bite. “Can’t wait.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Ford dismissed with more flippancy than Fiddleford found comforting. “Now, just dip a finger or two into the gel, getting just enough to cover the whole of Remus’ wound here.”

The salve was oddly smooth, almost soft as Fiddleford scooped up a small dollop of the stuff onto two fingers. He lifted it up, examining it in the light - it wasn’t quite as iridescent as the antiseptic, but it did seem to slowly shift slightly in color, the stuff making contact with Fiddleford’s fingers shifting to be more of a greenish-hue, while the rest stayed a calming teal.

“It reacts to body-heat,” Ford piped up, pride shining in voice. He must have noticed Fiddleford’s curiosity. “Because of its slight transparency, you can actually see that with your naked eye - hence the difference in color.” 

“Fascinating,” Fiddleford murmured, tilting it this way and that. “And it heals people?”

“To an extent,” Ford said excitedly. “Its effects and limits are actually very interesting just on their own - it can heal surface wounds, but anything deeper it can’t reach. I’ve yet to experiment with injecting it, nevermind that that would be rather imprecise… Well, anyways, I haven’t needed it for any serious injuries yet, but it does wonders for sunburns and mosquito bites.”

“Well ain’t that just the darndest thing. Where’d ya even find something like this?” 

Ford preened, practically fluffing with pride. “That’s just the thing! I made it myself, combining various ingredients from the forest and-”

Stanley made a low, unhappy noise. Ford jolted. 

“Ah, right, the task at hand. I’ve gotten carried away again.” Ford shook his head. “Nevermind all that for now, we can discuss it further later. For now, we tend to our wounded.” 

Ford patted Stanley on the back, motioning with his other hand for Fiddleford to come closer.

“Simply apply the salve over the injured area and watch it work its magic,” Ford instructed. “Don’t worry about hurting him, he’ll be alright. Better for it, really.” 

Despite the assurances, Fiddleford’s hand still shook slightly as he carefully, so carefully reached over, glancing over at Stanley’s face repeatedly to watch his reaction. The feral man remained impassive, just watching him as Fiddleford slowly started smearing the gel over the wounds.

Stanley tensed suddenly, a soft growl kicking to life in his chest. His lips pulled back to reveal jagged, truly grisly looking teeth, twisting into an angry snarl. 

Fear struck Fiddleford in the chest like a physical, wrenching blow - he scooted backwards, shoes squeaking on the linoleum, gel-covered hand still raised up. Images of those teeth flashing in his head, those teeth digging into the gnome’s side, those teeth, still red with blood, snarling at him-

“Fiddleford,” Ford said, voice steady, almost firm. “He’s not going to hurt you. He’s just flinching. See, I’m not even holding him back.”

And he wasn’t. Stanley wasn’t struggling from Ford’s grip at all, just sitting there, calm as anything, not even straining to lunge for Fiddleford’s jugular and rip him to pieces. He was just… sitting there. Face twisted not in rage, but in pain. Calmness in his eyes. Just sitting there, watching Fiddleford. 

“He’s just flinching, as anyone would to having gel rubbed into an open wound. He did the same when I was applying it, and he never once attacked me. You’re alright,” Ford continued. 

“Right. Yeah.” Fiddleford shook himself, forcing himself to stop shaking. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, don’t know what came over me there.” 

“It’s no matter,” Ford said. “Can you apply the rest?”

Fiddleford nodded tensely, scooting forward and slowly placing his fingers back onto Stanley’s arm, pressing down with as little force as he could. And true to Ford’s word, while he did growl and whine, Stanley didn’t move a muscle against Fiddleford as he cautiously applied the cool gel. 

Once he was done, Fiddleford retracted his hand, holding it to his chest almost protectively. 

Stanley just looked him over, then huffed. He bumped his head lightly against the side of Ford’s face, then wiggled out. With one last friendly pat to Stanley’s shoulder, Ford let him go - Fiddleford froze where he sat, but Stanley only glanced at him before looking back to the kitchen window, where Fiddleford had, uh, disposed of the gnomes.

He looked between Fiddleford and the window, something almost thoughtful in his eyes, though what he was thinking about Fiddleford hadn’t the faintest clues. If Stanley even thought like a human did at all.

His gaze landed with finality on the window. Stanley’s lips pulled back into a snarl, like out a loud, rumbling warning call of a growl. Hunkering down slightly, he opened his mouth and let a sharp, thunderclap of a bark, powerful enough to send the startled caws of birds up from the trees outside.

Fiddleford flinched so hard he nearly brained himself on a cabinet. 

Stanley’s eyes flicked over to him. The growling softened and faded out, leaving him silent. 

He walked, arm still held up, on his hand and knees. Instinctively Fiddleford scooted back, his back bumping against the cabinet - he hissed as one of the knobs jabbed him in the side, but then Stanley was inches away, and he fell silent again. 

 Stanley was as blank-faced and watchful as the old farm dogs Fiddleford had grown up with - never the most friendly things, but dutiful to the very end.  

They had been far from pets, and as children Fiddleford’s parents always strongly discouraged him and his siblings from viewing them that way. They were working dogs - they were useful, born bred and trained all their lives to be the perfect livestock dogs. A good one was well appreciated, practically irreplaceable. 

A bad dog was taken out back and- disposed of. That was just the way of things - no mourning, not for bad dogs. They were animals, and this was the way of things. 

And like an animal, there was nothing readable in Stanley’s eyes.

Part of their work in training the dogs was to catch the good from the bad, figure out which was which. The good dogs do their jobs. The good dogs take to their training well, help wrangle the animals, ward off threats and, if necessary, protect them at all costs, even if that cost is their own life. It’s what they’re trained to do. A bad dog is an untrainable dog.

It’s a dog that hunts the animals, not protects.

And Fiddleford couldn’t tell which one Stanley was.

“H-hey there, uh, buddy,” he said, cursing the way his voice shook. “Whatcha doin’?”

Unreadable brown eyes bored into Fiddleford’s skull.

What does he want? He ain’t mad I put that salve on his arm, is he? Ford said he’s smarter than that but Ford’s a bit of a sentimental sort, you know he ain’t always as pragmatic as he makes himself out to be, and you saw what Stanley did to them gnomes, Fiddleford, teeth like that he’ll got a good chunk outta ya before you can pull him off, and who knows what kinda diseases this fella’s carryin’ around from the woods - sweet sarsaparilla, what if he’s got rabies? There ain’t no cure for rabies. If I get rabies I won’t ever be able to see ‘m boy again, he’s just a little fella, he’ll have to grow up with barely a memory of his old man, all ‘cause I got bit by a rabid man, and then how will Ems keep float without botha’ our income, they’ll have to sell the house to ‘m funeral expenses, and Tate’ll have to go to a different school and Ems will havta to move in with her folks and she hates her folks and-

Something warm and wet lapped at Fiddleford’s cheek. 

He was abruptly snapped out of his spiraling thoughts, returning to the reality of-

-of Stanley licking him on the face. What?

“Remus!” Ford admonished from aside, coming over to pull Stanley off Fiddleford. “What did I tell you about licking people?”

Stanley huffed at him, waving his tongue in Fiddleford’s direction menacingly, like how one might waggle a finger at someone. Fiddleford pressed a shell-shocked hand to his cheek. It was indeed damp with salvia. Like he’d been licked by a dog. 

“Terribly sorry, Fiddleford, I should have warned you that he tends to do that sometimes. I believe it’s something he picked up from the coyotes - did I mention he’s been living with the coyotes? - well, I hypothesize the licking to be an attempt at a soothing gesture.” He hooked his arms under Stanley’s, pulling him aside like a misbehaving dog. “Fret not, he’s done the same to me before I’ve suffered no ill consequences. He doesn’t seem to be carrying any sort of transmittable disease - miraculously, considering his previous living conditions.”

“I- uh. Um.” Fiddleford blinked, dazed. He felt as though his thoughts, racing and uncontrollable just seconds ago, had suddenly slammed into a solid wall, leaving him stumbling and reeling.

Stanley looked at him for a moment, eyes unreadable as they’d ever been - then he blinked, exhaling, and slipped out of Ford’s hold. He trudged out of the kitchen, still on all fours, turning around a corner and disappearing. 

There was a shroud of silence over the kitchen for a moment. Fiddleford didn’t think he could bring himself to break the clasp of silence over them even if he wanted to.

Then Ford stood with a soft grunt, dusting off his pants, and the spell was broken.

“Right, well, crisis averted, I suppose. I do hope the gnomes don’t take anything personally.” He straightened his shirt primly, glancing down at the mess still on the kitchen floor unhappily. “If anyone should be upset, it should be me, after all. I rather liked that jam jar.”

Fiddleford wasn’t really listening - his eyes stayed on where he’d last seen Stanley, the gears of his brain slowly returning to their turning, replaying the events of the day in his mind. “...you seem mighty comfortable with him.”

“Hm?” Ford looked up, following Fiddleford’s gaze to the doorway, the bend Stanley disappeared behind. Realization fluttered to life across his face, the thoughtful pinch of his brow smoothing. “Oh, you mean Remus?”

“Yeah,” Fiddleford confirmed distantly. 

Ford shrugged loosely. “Now that you say it, I suppose that that’s true. It’s just… hm, how to explain it?” He scratched the back of his neck idly, squinting at nothing as though trying to parse his thoughts into words. “It’s just that I feel… at ease, in Remus’ presence. Comfortable, like you said. I’d honestly assumed that would be the case for anyone meeting Remus, that it might be an effect of his - you don’t find him soothing to be around at all?”

Fiddleford’s heart still hadn’t quite returned to normal, still a flurry steadily slowing in his chest with each passing moment he wasn’t mauled or attacked. He couldn’t help the soft chuckle Ford’s words surprised out of him. “No, I don’t reckon I do. He damn near gave me a heart attack, he did. Thought he was gonna chew me up and spit me out like an old chicken bone.” 

Ford scoffed, somehow both with surprise and disagreement. “I told you, he’s perfectly safe to be around! I’ve been keeping a close eye on him for the past week or so, and he’s never once done anything violent towards me.”

“If you say so,” Fiddleford said doubtfully. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “Still, we havta find some way to help the poor fella. It ain’t right, letting him go on as he is, not even knowing he’s a human person…”

“Of course, of course, as we’ve agreed to. We’ll fit it in the schedule, sometime between our work on the machine.”

“‘bout that machine,” Fiddleford started, straightening, “I was wonderin’ if ya had any ideas in mind? Any plans or anythin’?”

Ford brightened. “Yes! I’ve been working on drawing up some blueprints for you, and I have a few theories as to how it might work…”

He went on, talking animatedly as he started guiding Fiddleford out of the kitchen, down the spiraling halls of the cabin and towards the study - but Fiddleford couldn’t help the way his eyes wandered down every corridor and corner, looking the distinctive hunched shape and billowing brown hair of a certain Pines. 

I’ll help ya, Fiddleford promised in his head, I’ll getcha back on yer two feet, or my names not Fiddleford H. McGucket. I promise.

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[jynmelshian]

After sleeping on it for a night ive decided im extremely pissed they reduced bix to cassian's stay at home troubled wife, and even though i think it's the best thing that she left him so that they could both stay with the rebellion, i do think it was very badly executed. i saw a post mention that she should have been more radicalised after killing gorst, and i realised, even though it makes sense that she'd be so changed and traumatised after her arrest and torture, season 1 bix would not in any world be happy with staying in their little domestic jungle yurt while cassian was away doing Some Shit, especially not after finally getting her revenge and reaping the benefits of that. i definitely think we should have seen her be more proactive and assertive in the rebellion operations, even if it was only on yavin. she's a ferrixian mechanic, for christ's sake, why did we never see her anywhere near any machinery or ships??

i think that's the most disappointing thing about this season. it's like they forgot bix's entire personality in season 1 and replaced it all with "loves cassian, tormented by dreams, wishes she was doing more," and forgot that she's also a tradeworker, she was also affected by the destruction of ferrix and the loss of brasso, she tried to outrun stormtroopers, she tried to stand up to dedra meero, she's not so weak and 2 dimensional that she can be satisfyingly confined to whatever domestic setting she and cassian have settled into.

there were hints of her thirst to do more in her interaction with luthen in episode 5 and i understand the narrative being like "but she's still too tired and vulnerable to do anything!" because well, she's suffered the worst torture you can suffer AND then was victim to disgusting imperial sexual violence... but it felt like after she and cassian blew up gorst, the show sort of wiped its hands of bix's arc and went back to making her entire life revolve around cassian... and then her decision to leave made sense but, making it about a force healer's vision about cassian's significance in the rebellion felt sort of... weak? a little bit silly? if it was in combination with us seeing more explicitly how frustrated and eager to fight and win bix was at this point, it would have been a lot more satisfying. i mostly enjoyed her and cassian's relationship in this season, i think it was interesting how surviving ferrix brought them back together, and seeing them go from exes who can't stand each other but still lowkey love each other to genuinely ride or die in love was actually a lot more interesting and enjoyable than i thought it would be. HOWEVER. they dropped the fucking ball on bix's character and storyline, and in hindsight that made their relationship feel like a little bit of unnecessary plot device. there were other ways to set up cassian's final arc and there were DEFINITELY other, better ways to pan out bix's arc.

and i don't think it's an inability to write women well, because i think they've done a fantastic job with mon mothma and dedra and kleya. but i think it's an inability to write women within romantic relationships with men well. that's the issue. it's as if the price for a happy relationship with cassian was 80% of bix's strength and independence as a character. and that sucks.

[elliewluvr]

sells 2 | ellie williams

pairing: drugdealer!ellie x f!reader

read part 1 to this series !

summary: ellie’s a popular known drug dealer who you just so happened to have a few sexual encounters with but what happens when you need to face her again?

content warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, drug use, flirtatious behavior, fingering, degradation and praise, reader receiving, a ton of kisses, rough sex, bondage, strapon sex

dont purchase tlou2! support palestine 🇵🇸

<3

a few months went past, you and ellie hardly talking unless it was in class, sometimes passing eachother with a few hi’s and bye’s once class was finished. upon the sexual encounter you two had at that party, you couldnt find yourself being willing to be alone with her .

maybe you were pussy.. maybe you didnt want things to be awkward.. whatever the case was, you didnt engage nor bring up the situation that happened that night.

until you realized you were low on weed, the same weed you begged your roommate to buy from ellie so you wouldn’t have to see her by yourself.

the exchange went on for a couple of months, buying a great amount of weed from the auburn haired girl so you didnt have to ask your roommate to pick it up as often.

it wasnt until she told you last time that she could no longer do such things. you figured she gotten tired of it and understood considering it wasnt her responsibility.

after about 45 minutes of contemplation and mental preparation, you swiftly grabbed your phone, opened you and ellies convo.

you: hey, think you could sell 2 me tn?

in an attempt to distract yourself from the somehow embarrassing action you’d just committed you went into your kitchen, opened up the pantry and found the biggest bag of chips you find. you settled down on the couch, where you found the remote to watch some netflix to pass time.

hours had passed, and while you quietly giggled at your favorite show, rewatching it for the unth-teenth time, you kinda started to wonder why you were in this predicament to begin with.

and just as you remembered, the screen of your phone lit, dimly lighting the mostly dark room, since it was about dusk by now.

ellie: yea im not mobile rn but yk i can do a quick smthn 4 ya.

you froze reading the small black letters across your screen. quickly pausing your show, you picked up your phone, opening it up to the conversation where you re read the text. “do a quick something..like what? jesus fuck.” you scoffed quickly typing back a response.

you: uh what quick something did u have in mind?

a few seconds had gone by and your phone lit up again:

ellie: you think u can come to mine? shouldn’t be too far from your dorm

oh okay great so now you had to come to her. reluctantly, you agree. she sends her address and with a sigh, you slide on your shoes, grab your wallet and head out. it’s about a 10-15 minute walk to ellie’s place depending on how fast you walked. she lived on the edge of east campus and luckily you were right on the south campus so it was a some what decent commute.

when you arrive to apartment 210 with a quick knock to the door, your heart is beating out of your chest. not from walking so fucking far but from the anxiety that would entail you seeing her alone. in a drug dealers house. i don’t know why but the entire ordeal just seemed foreign to you.

maybe it was pussy of you to avoid her for months but who could blame you, the way she touched, kissed, and groped your soft skin that night sends shivers down your spine just from the thought. never in your life were you able to come undone so easily.

it was strange how good she had a lock on you and your mind, times where youd wanna text her a quick ‘come over’ just so she can recreate the scene from that bathroom at that god awful party. suddenly, the door cracked open.

immediately met by her low green orbs tinted a light pink from the joint she had rolled in the living room. she was in nothing but a white tank and gray sweats that hung dangerous low. you caught a quick glimpse before she interrupted with a, “wanna come in?” opening the door wider to let you in.

“oh yeah, of course.” you muttered walking into the apartment. the smell definitely hit you in the face once you were a good 5 feet into the apartment. ellie noticed your face when you caught a whiff.

“fuck, sorry. i just rolled so it kinda stinks a lil.” she apologized, grabbing stray laundry and random pieces of rolling paper as she walked through the hall leading to the living room. ellie swore she had tidied up a bit more. “please, you’re all good.” you smiled, reassuring her as you entered the living room, locating the sofa and finding a seat there.

“so what were you lookin’ to buy?” ellie asked, continuing to nervously clean the room littered in little baggies and black joggers. you pulled out your wallet, skimming through your cash and counting it all. “uh, how much can i get with sixty three dollars and forty nine cents?” you grinned, nervously giggling, cash in hand. ellie smirked, tilting her head to the side, “maybe 3 grams? but for you i can make it a little more.” she teased.

always with these “but for you’s”, jesus.

“what do you mean, ‘but for you’ ?”, you asked, doe eyed and curious like a puppy. ellie sorta tensed for a sec, but quickly played it off. “you’re just cool, i dunno. also you helped me with studying so, fuck it why not? i mean if you wanna pay full price no objections here, heh.”

you forgot all about the studying session you had with her, ultimately ending with her fingers back in your cunt, massaging your spot over and over again until you were sobbing and knocking the test books onto your pink rug in your dorm.

giddy and chattering like a highschool girl, ellie was talking for what seemed like days before she quickly smiled and stopped in place to tell you “i’m gonna go in the back and uh- grab the shit. stay here.” she scurried off. “nah ima go back home” you muttered under your breath and rolling your eyes, a small smile forming as you opened your phone, looking for something to scroll through. twitter seemed to be your saving grace that day, slowly scrolling through cute pictures and occasionally dumb memes posted by those god awful accounts you followed back when you were 14.

ellie stepped back in, baggie in hand and you anxiously started counting your money again just to make sure you had exactly sixty three dollars and forty nine cents. “and how much was it again?” you asked, bills in hand, ready to do your drug deal like big girl. “erm just thirty five.” she quickly said, trying to draw focus away from the obvious price reduction.

“thirty five? for allat?” you questioned, thinking maybe she grabbed one bag too many. “yeah it’s good, babe don’t sweat it.” she brushed it off, sitting on the sofa next to you. you took your cash counting up three ten dollars bills and a five. handing it to her, you felt her rough palms brush against your comparably soft ones and you swore you memorized every detail on her hand. the little scar right below her thumb, her knuckles bruised a bright pink and the start of her tattoo which travelled up her forearm.

after ellie handed you your baggies, she commented;

“we kinda match.”, she smirked, looking down. you were confused, what was matching? at first you tried comparing the color pallets of each others outfits, but you were wearing green and black which didn’t seem like a match to her grey and white. after you sat in 5 long seconds confusion, she clarified, “your tattoo?”, she gestured down again noticing the butterfly tattooed on the forearm holding the weed.

“oh- yeah um. i noticed yours, it’s really pretty but isn’t that a moth? mines is a butterfly.” you quipped holding up your arm to hers for a full side by side comparison. “i mean yeah, but- erm, it’s like a sun and moon kinda thing. you know like yin and yang i guess?” she terribly explained but you caught on. “what so i’m the sun?” you asked, a finger lightly grazing over her arm, tracing the details. “suppose so.” ellie responded, doing the same to your arm in turn, her finger now connecting the dots of your tattoo as well.

“and you’re the moon?” you asked again

“nah dina is.”

“very funny.” you smirked.

“yeah well i try.”

you had no idea you were even this close to her until your ridiculous lesbian banter had ceased. noses inches away from each other, hands on fore arms and eyes locked, like if you stopped looking at her you’d die instantly. after a comfortable silence you started, “hey i uh, actually can’t roll. do you think you can help? or atleast just show me so i know how.” you giggled, shaking your head at the embarrassing question. “awh, poor thing. yeah sure, i’ll teach you pretty girl.” she smiled grabbing a baggie, opening it and pouring its contents onto the tray that sat on the coffee table in front of her.

you were lying, you knew how to roll but just wanted to find a reason to stay there a bit longer. a reason to end up back in her arms. a reason to have her lips back on yours. i dont know, fuck. you just wanted to be back with her.

“alright first off, you wanna grind your shit, obviously.” she started, knocking you out your thoughts once again. she carefully went through each step, making sure you were paying attention throughout. “eyes on me, pretty.” is all she would say whenever she caught you wandering off, fantasizing about how her hands would feel wrapped around your waist, keeping you still while she-

fuck.

“im paying attention, i promise.” you smiled again, focusing on the blunt she was beginning to roll. and god when she did it, it was fucking perfect. watching the muscles in her hands contort to her will, something about it made heat begin to pool at the bottom of your stomach. when ellie was finished, the blunt sat perfect between her two fingers offering it to you.

“this is really stupid question but do you wanna..smoke it with me?” you asked, eyes locked onto her again. “fuck, you mustve missed me or something, pretty.” ellie remarked, eyes still low from the joint she had before. “should you ever be so lucky” you responded, before asking, “you got a lighter or..?”

—

half a blunt later, your shoes off and your eyes are dangerously low, tinted a hot pink from the fat blunt ellie had graciously rolled for you. you and her sat on the sofa, watching girl, interrupted, one of ellie’s favs. you were carefully finding moments to glance over at her sitting next to you, her arm behind you resting on the sofa. yours thighs are touching but that’s about the most contact you’ve gotten all night.

a little relaxed thanks to the weed, you laid your head onto ellie’s lap. thank fuck you were high because no way you’d even try this shit sober. ellie peered down at you before saying a gentle, “you okay?” you hummed in response and that was enough for ellie.

sitting in the silence doing nothing but watching this movie made you so surprisingly comfortable. like you didn’t need to constantly talk to ellie. simply being in her presence was enough. something about her that just instantly calmed you. god you had such a crush it was pathetic.

instinctively, ellie rests her hand on the small of your waist, before rubbing it gently, being careful with her movements as she knew you were faded, “is this okay?” she asked, looking down at you who were comfortable resting in her lap.

“it’s okay.”

“it’s okay?”

“it’s okay”.

ellie carefully rubbed the area where it previously rested, giving your waist a little squeeze before gently rubbing it back and forth. god she could lull you to sleep if she really wanted to. placing your hand on top of hers, you methodically intertwine your fingers into her own, holding her hand while it rests on your waist.

“y’know my first dates usually don’t go this good so this is a nice change.” the green eyed girl softly muttered, eyes glued to the tv. “this is a date?” you peered, heart skipping a beat. “you’re in my house, lying on my lap, watching a gay fuckin movie with me on my couch. and we smoked. yeah, babe, this is a date.” she quipped smiling softly before peeking down at you, stealing tiny glances herself, constantly staring as if she’d forget what your face looked like if she couldn’t get a good look every 5 minutes or so.

you hummed in response, lightly tracing her strong knuckles with your thumb, “okay, maybe this is a date.” you giggled, rolling on your back to get the perfect view of her from below. her jaw, clenched tight while she chews on her pouted pink lips. you noticed every freckle on her face, every tiny scar; even the one right on her eyebrow that caused a little slit. you marveled at the girl, fascinated with her.

“like something you see?” ellie’s smirked, low green eyes now locked on your deep brown ones. hesitant, you respond, “possibly.” and smiled, head tilting while you flirted with ellie for probably the sixteenth time that night. “how uh, possible would you say it is?” she quipped. “like percentage wise?,i’d say like a good 73% chance.” you told her, finding her hand again to gently grab it.

“what’s goin’ on w’you n my hands?” she asked, smirking at the sight of you fidgeting with with her bruised, slender hands. “considering they were in me. i like em, they look nice.” you felt your face start to warm up from the sudden word vomit you let slip out due being too high to care. ellie perched an eyebrow, her grin growing revealing her pearly whites.

“you know where they’d look even nicer?” ellie question, now running her free hand through your hair. “mm?” you asked with a hum?

ellie softly released her hand from your grip, carefully moving it up to your face to caress your warm cheek, gliding her thumb in small, soothing little circles. she hunched down to get her face closer to yours and when she was close enough she answered;

“back deep inside you”. her hands moved to hold both of your cheeks with just one hand. you laid there in shock, pussy clenched thinking of how deep ellie’s slender appendages would fuck into your wet core until you were nothing but flesh and bone. you felt your whole body warm up, before you said, “i know they would.” you softly said, lifting your head up to get even closer. before the two of you knew it your noses were inches apart from each other again, eyes locked.

and you knew the second that ellie pressed her soft lips into yours, you were fucked.

her lips were so soft against yours, her dominance genuinely taking over once she leaned forward to initiate the kiss. god her lips felt so good, making you bring a arm up to wrap it around her neck, fingers grazing her scalp a bit as you dug fingers into her hair that fell right above her shoulder blades.

your eyes were shut tightly, mind a bit foggy from how her hands quickly went up from your waist to grab ahold of one of your tits. her calloused palms gripping the flesh before pulling away. you let out a soft whine in response, not wanting the kiss to be over. “take these off.” she demanded, referring to your green joggers that you slipped on upon hearing that she was gonna sell to you.

quickly sitting up, tugging the spandex material off of your legs while ellie on the over hand watched. her eyes trailing from your soft thighs to the black panties you had on. you always made sure to wear a matching set no matter the circumstances. she noticed this, taking a liking to how you always wanted to keep yourself put together. her hands readjusted you so you were now on her lap with your back to her, her slim but the long fingers grabbing ahold of the hem of your panties to slip them down your legs before tossing them aside and pushing your thighs back towards her.

“keep these legs open for me, babe. dont let me have to tell you twice.” her raspy but smooth voice let out into your ear, making you nod and whine a bit upon her sudden demands. you never seen ellie so demanding before, the controlling and dominance she was asserting made you shiver ontop of her. whats gonna into this girl?

she placed a hand between your thighs, palming your pussy for a little while before rubbing her middle and ring fingers through your pussy lips, your breathing hitching as you whimpered softly in her touch. this made her lips curl in a smirk, laying a long peck in the crevice of your neck.

you couldn’t help yourself, holding your legs open for her while furrowing your eyebrows once she began rubbing your clit in moderate paced circles, being sure to wrap her arm around your waist from behind to keep you pinned to her. the feeling of the pads of her fingertips rubbing your sensitive clit made your legs tremble, soft moans leaving your lips ever so easily. you felt your hips buck up towards her fingers, wanting as much attention between your thighs than before.

she caught onto this, biting her bottom lip as she watched before landing a slap onto your pussy, “dont get greedy, let me build you up to that first.” she said, making you squeal upon feeling of the gentle spank on your cunt, your back arching in response.

a couple of seconds passed, your moans growing louder once her fingers slipped in a bit effortlessly. “look at that babe, your pussy is molded in the shape of my fingers.. they fit so perfectly in you.” you moaned in response, mouth slightly agape while you felt her almost immediately push her fingertips up against your spot, “els!” you moaned out, gasping once she sped up her fingers.

you and her both watched in awe, your thighs trembling and twitching each time her fingers hit that spot that had you squeezing your eyes shut while being tempted to close your legs. she smirked once again, pushing her digits deep into you before flicking her fingers back and forth in a ‘come here’ motion.

“yeah? does it feel good? talk to me, pretty.” she said, making your mouth fall open and head fall back onto her shoulder, “yes! dont stop.. ‘feels so good ellie!” you moaned out, eyes shutting as your core began to tense. ellie hummed in response to you, knowing how good she had you feeling considering your pussy was clamped down onto her the second she let her fingers ease into you.

“kiss me.” she said a bit above a whisper, your head turning in her direction to immediately be met with those green irises on you. she stuck her tongue out to slip it into your mouth, a eager but ultimately sloppy kiss igniting between you two as she continued her movements with her fingers. her curled fingers hitting your spot over and over again until you pulled away from the kiss.

“im gonna-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence without a long moan dragging from your throat and to ellies ears, making her smirk, nod, and use her free hand that was around your waist to rub your clit quickly. “let it out, dont hold back for me.. let me hear you scream babe..”

you gripped onto your thighs tightly, freshly manicured nails digging into your plush skin as you let incoherent words drag from your lips while you came undone on her fingers for the third time now. you trembled, feeling her take her soaked fingers out to raise them to your lips. “suck.” she demanded. you wrapped your lips around her digits, looking into her eyes at the same time as you sucked your juices clean off her fingers, making her furrow her eyebrows and bite her lip at the sight. “fuck..” she mumbled to herself, pulling them out to kiss you once again. the taste of you still lingering on your tongue.

ellie pulled away for a moment, making sure you were okay upon sitting you back onto the couch. you were still a bit shaken up from the oh so good orgasm you just had, shakily reaching for your panties as ellie stood from the couch, “oh, you wont be needin’ those.” she said, making you raise a eyebrow a bit confused, “ what do you mean?” you asked confusedly before watching her crouch down in front of you to pick you up off the couch.

her muscles making it easy to just scoop you up and off of the cushioned seat, you squealed a little, wrapping your arms around her neck in response, “i got you.” she said, chuckling a bit at your reaction before pushing her lips back against yours.

the two of you made your way out the cloudy living room and towards the hallway that led to her bedroom, ellie occasionally tripping over a few items she had forgotten to pick up due to the rushed invitation into her home, using a free hand to grab the wall to keep the both of you steady. she smirked against your lips once she reached her room, tossing you onto the mattress before pulling her white tank top over her head.

you watched, deciding to do the same to your black crop top and bra, now completely naked for her eyes to travel your body for a few seconds. this sight making her practically wanna take a picture and put it as her lock screen. “so fuckin’ pretty, just a second.” she said, dominant hand softly rubbing your inner thigh before turning around to grab her stool near her closet, stepping on it to reach up and grab one of the plenty shoe boxes she had on the shelves.

you laid there patiently, still oblivious as to what she was searching for but not for long once she pulled out something that resembled a harness and another object that you just couldn’t quite see due to her back being turned. ellie on the other hand placed both of the items in one of palms, finally turning to face you to reveal what she had.

a strap. a fucking strap.

“think you could take this?” she asked, walking back towards you before sliding her joggers and underwear down her legs. you nodded, “mhm..” you managed to let out, eyes trailing down her body to her pussy and muscular thighs that still remained slim but was there for you to see.

god, how perfect her body looked.. her muscles and abs flexing as she attached the dildo to her harness, the auburn haired girl looking up from the activity to meet your eyes that was practically glued to her. “like what you see?” she asked for the second time tonight.

“absolutely.” you said sassily, rolling your eyes before letting a laugh pass between your mouth as you were laid back on your elbows, looking up at her, “i bet.” she said with an smug expression over her face, clipping the last buckle of her strap onto her waist. she climbed up onto the bed alongside you, grabbing your ankles to flip you over on your stomach. you let out a breath once your face hit the pillows. ellie adjusted herself, getting comfortable between your thighs.

“you look so fuckin’ good from this angle, babe.” you heard her let out, making you whine in response while your pussy immediately clamped on nothing upon the feeling of her rubbing the tip of her strap between your wet slit. “do you want it? let me hear how you want it baby.” she said, smirking as soon as she heard you start to beg.

“please, i want it so bad el’s.. need you in me..” you whined, pushing your hips back towards her a few times before feeling her land a rough slap on your ass, making you gasp and squeal from how your right ass cheek stung. “say it again, pretty girl.”

“please fuck me.. please ellie, i want you so bad.” you said, looking back at her with furrowed eyebrows and low eyes from being both still high and now horny. she hummed at your words before pushing the silicone into you, gasping from being stretched open. you gripped onto one of the pillows, immediately attempting to push yourself forward once you felt it hit your cervix.

“dont fuckin’ move..” she said, grabbing your hips to now stroke into you, her waist hitting your ass repeatedly as she pretty much rolled her strap deep in your cunt. you let moans pass between your lips while you sat up onto your forearms, ellie grabbing your hair in her fist as she started to speed up.

your head was yanked back, jaw slack, and body trembling once you felt the silicone graze your spot, eyes rolling back from the way she fucked you. she wasted no time to make you putty in her hands. “good girl.” her raspy voice spoke, earning a moan from you.

you gasped loudly upon feeling her start to hit that spot head on. your fists gripped the sheets, trying to once again push your body forward to get it to stop, your ego couldn’t allow yourself to cum so quickly.

“what did i say, hm? thought you said you could take it? what happened?” she asked, placing her free hand on the small of your back while biting her lip to keep her from moaning herself once she could feel how tightly you were clamped down on her.

ellie was thrown out of her complete bliss, noticing the headboard that was slamming against wall roughly due to you trying to get away. “nope.” she simply said, pulling out of you roughly to get back off of the bed.

“and dont you fuckin’ move, i got something thatll stop all that moving.”

you fell down onto the pillows in front of you. your body was shaking and you were trying to catch your breath, just based off of the fact that you pissed her off, you refused to move even the slightest. ellie was frustrated, knowing that she had neighbors and couldn’t have you flailing all around her bed, she stepped back up onto the stool to grab something else from the box.

you glanced back to get a view on what she was getting, only to see something that looked similar to red ribbon but due to her starting to turn around, you readjusted your gaze rather quickly. ellie got back on the bed, landing a harsh slap on your ass, “arch. what the fuck are you doing?” she said, face scrunched in irritation.

you obeyed her, whining once you felt your other cheek begin to tingle from the blunt force, this time it being more forceful than the one that she previously gave you. this made you a bit nervous considering that you could tell she was no longer the sweet quiet drug dealer you sat next to in class.

you felt the auburn haired girl pull your hands back with one hand, using her more dominant hand to tightly wrap the red ribbon around your wrists, making you whimper a bit, “i asked you if you could take it, didnt i?” she asked, being sure to tie the ribbon tightly like a boy scout just incase you even ATTEMPTED to break free from it.

“yes.. its just that it felt so goo-“ you started, getting cut off by her tying a bow after making the bond tight. the way she tied it quickly had you wondering if this wasnt her first time. who else was she fucking as to where she knew exactly how to tie bondage so quickly and easily on you. you were cut from your thoughts by her slipping back into you.

ellie took in the sight, biting her bottom lip before placing both of her hands into your deep arch to start her strokes back up. her hips curved each time she pulled the strap from out of you. your whimpers and moans filling the room as your face remained in the pillow, eyes rolling back in awe.

“fuck! e-ellie.. mmph!” you let pass from your throat and into the pillow, eyes rolling back from the feeling of her hitting your spot repeatedly making you try to reach for her waist. “oh yeah? take my fucking dick. take it, babe.” ellie let out before raising a leg up, foot flat on the mattress while she pinned you down into her dark grey sheets.

“you thought i didnt know what you were doing? you know how to roll, you just wanted me back deep in your cunt again. isnt that right?” she asked, thrusting her hips into you deeply while watching your ass ripple each time it hit her waist. you couldnt even form a sentence, drool slipping from your mouth as you grabbed at nothing.

your moans getting more breathy and short. ellie sat her leg back down before letting go of your waist to wrap a hand around your throat, pulling you up to her chest. her strokes were still deep and quick, making you whimper, “answer me, babe.” she said, making you incoherently say, “yes!”

she smirked, stroking her silicone dick into your spot while not even taking the time to let you breathe, the sounds of your moans, wetness, and skin slapping filled the room along with the occasional noise of the headboard hitting the wall. your eyes rolled back once again, her tatted hand reaching down to rub your clit before gently squeezing your throat and slamming her hips into you.

you gasped as your body began to spasm, eyebrows furrowing, and core tightening all at once. ellie caught onto this, a snarky look written across her face, “youre gonna cum pretty? youre gonna fuckin’ cum for me, hm?” she asked you, laying a few pecks onto your cheek. you whined, the whine fading into a moan, “yes.. im gonna cum! ‘gonna cum!” you cried out.

ellie’s strokes picked up significantly faster. “give it to me, give it to me babe.. cum on this dick.” she whispered in your ear, applying pressure onto your clit before rolling her hips into your spot. your back arched deeper than before, moans growing long and louder as your chest rose and fell, eyes rolling, and pussy clenching and unclenching over the silicone inside of you.

she took her time, slowing down her pace to rub your clit through your orgasm. “good girl.. let it all out.” she said, wrapping her arms around your waist to hold you close to her as you came down from your high. your body was weak, falling slumped in her strong arms that gently massaged you.

you felt yourself relax in her touch, looking back at the red haired girl before feeling her lay a few pecks onto your lips. “you did so good for me..” she whispered softly against your lips in between pecks.

your breathing was still uneasy, ellie slowly laying you down onto the bed and in return having the dildo slip out of your messy cunt, untying your hands to lay soft kisses over you now red wrists. a ring of your creamy orgasm at the base of her strap, making her stand to grab a towel, wiping it off before tending to you.

your eyes was heavy, blinking getting slow before you began to doze off. the auburn haired girl wiping you clean before unsnapping the harness off and crawling back into bed with you. her hands shifting you gently to lay overtop of her, pulling the cover over you twos naked frames.

“goodnight babe, sleep well, pretty.” she mumbled softly, being sure to not to wake you in the mist. she laid a gentle peck on your forehead before shifting to turn off her bedside lamp, wrapping her arms around you and slowly falling asleep with you.

—<3 hope you enjoyed reading part 2 to sells! more to come soon!

part 3!!

direct link to my master list!

[sofs16]

our home

part 1: paddock day , part 2: our leclerc win, part 3: our love in photos — next

not proofread, as usual:)

yn.jpg

budapest, hungary

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon, carlossainz55, and 392,383 others

yn.jpg beautiful race and driver who man never sits still 😆

view all 82,484 comments

laufeyyn as much as i love you and paddock yn, do you not have a job? 😭

⤷ yn.jpg NOO DW ID QUESTION THIS TOO! i actually still do have a job but it’s mostly online unless there’s a photoshoot somewhere or meeting:) i usually do my work at the paddock (war flashbacks to when i was called a horrible wag for being on my laptop😊) but yes i still work! ⤷ ynml i love how straightforward she is esp w the hate she got at silverstone LOL HATERS

[liked by yn.jpg]

chacha166 i love how its been a year but yn is still so active with us 🥹

⤷ yn.jpg you guys are so kind and silly its kinda hard to stop 🤷🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

july 23, 2024

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 7,383,383 others

charles_leclerc P2 at Spa! Huge congratulations to Carlos on his win. Started at P14 and maximized the car. Time to recharge ❤️

Photo 📷: @yn @yn.jpg😘

view all 271,484 comments

yn proudest of you ❤️‍🩹

⤷ charles_leclerc ❤️

yncharles THE PGOTO CREDITS LALALAAJAKAHAHAHAHA

carlossainz55 Why does yn not take photos of me

⤷ yn i do but i havent posted them yet, carlitos :( congrats on p1! yahoooo

july 30, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 6,373,383 others

yn something happened 💟

view all 981,574 comments

charles_leclerc 🏠

⤷ yn hehehe

yncharlesparents DID THEY MOVE IN TOGETHER WHAT

[liked by yn] ⤷ yncharlesparents SHITTING MY PANTS

⤷ yn wear a diaper, it helps

yourbsf i better have a room yn yln

⤷ yn the living room is spacious enough ❤️

⤷landonorris what about me

⤷ yn um we have 2 couches? ⤷ landonorris good enough

august 3, 2024

liked by yn, and 10,483,494 others

charles_leclerc Home ❤️ And can you believe Yn has 2 closets and says it’s not enough? 😂

📷 Photo: @yn @yn.jpg 😍

view all 1,483,695 comments

user11 she’s so ungrateful

user13 I bet she makes him buy all her clothes..

⤷ yn @user11 @user13 Actually, I have a job that allows me to pay for my wants, not that I need to explain myself! And I am very grateful for everything so don’t make assumptions, it was a joke. Hope you have a good life and actually find a job instead of being rude to people you don’t know! ❤️

[liked by charles_leclerc]

⤷ yneditss I fear, she ate. ⤷ charles283 I bet the PR is not happy abt this but we are 😊

⤷ yn i spoke my truth 🤷🏻‍♀️

⤷ynhumor I CACKLED I LOVE HER

⤷ ferrariforza You know she’s serious when she makes the capitalization and punctuations 😭

yncharles16 i love how yn is slowly taking over charles’ insta hehe he’s so whipped

august 6, 2024

f1wagsoft._

liked by yn, and 7,585 others

f1wagsoft._ Yn and Charles ❤️❤️

view all 328 comments

yn 🥹❤️‍🩹

⤷ ynstan yn is always active for f1wagsoft._ AHAHA

⤷ yn loveeee em

⤷ f1wagsoft._ ❤️ august 7, 204

yn.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, and 2,483,595 others

yn.jpg peaceful life 💌

view all 1,385,584 comments

ynzangel SHE HAS CHILDREN?

littlewomennzz EXCUSE ME?

lovelaufhlife WHAT

charles_leclerc Beautiful❤️

⤷ landonorris WHAT IS HAPPENING

yn.jpg IM NOT A MOTHER

⤷ ynschild you’re our mother. ⤷ yn.jpg true dat, child

⤷ ynsfan did she just say “true dat” HAHAHAHA IM GIGGLING I LOVE

⤷ yn.jpg WHAT AB IT ??????? august 8, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 4,484,484 others

yn im sincerely sorry for the fright. i am not pregnant or with child or have child 😭

that was charles’ nephew and niece…

view all 934,484 comments

landonorris Soon?

⤷ yn YOURE LITWRALLY MY CHILD HUSH

⤷ landonorris maybe.. idk

⤷ yn IM OLDER THAN YOU? ⤷ landonorris BY A FEW YEARS

charles_leclerc Cuteeee🤓

[liked by yn]

yourfavynstan All jokes aside, she looks like she’s make a lovely mother:( especially one with those quiet lives away from all the chaos of fame

⤷ charles.updated the day they settle down and charles content disappears 😭😭😭😭

⤷ yn this is so kind omg. and you will never run out of charles content as long as i live and we live together! pinky swear

⤷f1gr1dd I LOVE HER IT HURTS

august 9, 2024

f1wagsoft._

liked by 14,383 others

f1wagsoft._ That… is not Yn Yln with Charles Leclerc.

view all 29,383 comments

ynchar YN? MOM? WHAT

charrrl guys, theres more pics leaked.. it’s him… and not yn.

charlando WHAT

ynupdated @yn pls what. be active. youre always active here

user16 i don’t like charles with anyone other than charlotte and i thought i would he happy about this but im not. charles and yn truly did look like they loved each other

⤷ yncha WE DONT USE “LOVED”. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER

⤷ f111grid delulu is the solulu. we’re the same 😞

ynleclerc1 Not with zandvoort gp 2 days away.

riciando idt yn will respond abt this. sure she seems very open but you can see she’s only open about certain parts of her life. we don’t even know how old she is or where she lived before charles or anything 😭

august 23, 2024

#SOF : is this a bad time to say im a writer who likes to leave cliffhangers ?

[2isted-chocol8-art]

question about time buddies cus im curious: 1) are they dating in the comics you make? they kiss and cuddle and be cute, but like are they together together? and 2) how did they get together, if so? like how did they confess? or did it just happen? basically im asking what are ur headcannons for how they start smooching? i lovelovelove all the time buds art youve made and the thought just came up that, well, theyve gotta start kissing somehow yknow?

Ohhh this is gonna be a very fun ask to answer where I'll pour a bunch of headcanons, so buckle up!!

I haven't yet settled on how I picture hearthian relationships, but I know that I want to make them kinda fluid. That is, relationships aren't strictly divided in platonic and romantic, it's normal and accepted to have crushes in friends, or to make out and sleep with people without romantic feelings involved. Each hearthian has their own preferences too, and since their population is quite small, there isn't a set standard. Some people choose to be exclusive, others don't. Some have many romantic experiences, others have none. For some, romance and sex are linked, while for others it is not. And since everyone is different in this regard there are not societal expectations on this, you can kinda go and try whatever works for you.

For hatchy, they are still figuring themself out and they were experimenting before the loop. They don't fully distinguish between romantic and platonic affection yet, the line is kinda blurred for them (for now, anyways). Meanwhile, while Gabbro does make that distinction and they've have a few previous crushes, they're pretty open to making out with friends without the need for romantic feelings. Gabbro usually puts the focus on the other person's preferences, in that sense.

And so, are they dating? Honestly you can interpret them as you like, and I encourage people to see them as dating if they want, or not if they don't want to. You can even see them as strictly friends in some drawings and as dating in others, I don't really want you guys to follow my 'canon', in that sense.

For me personally though, I think that since they're in a time loop, they don't really bother with defining their relationship. They're the only conscious ones in the loop, they like to spend time together, they sometimes make out, but they arent technically dating, that label doesn't really make sense in the loop, right? From outside, I'd say it's close to a friends with benefits situation.

I also like to think that, in my post-loop comics, this relationship would start to get more defined with time, mostly because they're living back into a society and it kinda forces them to think about what they want regarding each other. I haven't thought much about the details, but I feel that although their dinamic doesn't change much compared to what they had in the loops, they do start having some 'dating' dynamics (they set limits regarding phisical affection with others, manage jelaousy situations, expect to spend more time together, etc,).

And in regards to your second question, how did they get together? I think that they become friends only after the loops starts (they never really hung out before) and they gradually become closer. Then, after the touch starvation and isolation starts becoming unbearable, they start smooching and making out mostly as a consequence of that absence, an attempt to search for that connection. This obviously makes it all the more intense and they end up kind of attached to the hip for a time (codependency my beloved). But again it's all kinda casual and very gradual, there is not a set moment where everything starts and they don't bother defining it either. It's mostly a matter of 'hey, this feels nice, let's keep doing it".

If I'm being honest I picture this starting as in "Next Time" or "Got Weird", thise fics perfectly capture the essence of how I think anything would start between these two in-loop sksksk.

And I think that's all? Thank you so much for this ask, it was a blast talking about all of this! I have a lot of headcanons for these two, and although I encourage you all to interpret my drawings as you like, I love talking about all of this!

[mysticpearl]

BORDER COLLIE: PT.2 - boothill x reader

- in the first part, you left off by telling boothill your pregnant. how does he react? part 1 here

- people asked for a second part, so here u go!!!!! i honestly lovwd writing this and im so sorry for my lack of posting... i have summer school now (i want to jump whoever decided summer school would be a good idea). anwyays enjoy!

- pre cyborg boothill, mentions of pregnancy, happy endings bc im done hurting my little itty bitty princess huhuhu, all fluff!!!, wc none this time, too lazy to check

"You're what?"

It took Boothill a second to process what it was that you had just said. He gave you a shocked stare for a moment before a small smile creeped up on his face.

"Tha's why you were so hesitant about the dog!"

You laughed at what he had said. He was certainly focusing on the wrong thing... but he sure has the spirit, right? He waited another moment, looking between you and your first daughter.

He didn't really know how to process the fact that now he'll be a father of two. But mostly the fact that you're actually going to be carrying it this time, unlike the last. After a few more moments of thinking it over, he looked over at your daughter, who was smiling and shouting "baby! baby! baby!" in her seat.

He launched into a hug, almost tackling you to the ground with his force. He was just so excited, who was to blame him? You were very confident in his abilities to take care of a brand new newborn, and also confident that he'd get through your pregnancy with you pretty well. He was an outstanding father, so what would change in a similar, yet so different experience?

"Really?? How long have y' known?" He mumbles into your shoulder, and you swear you felt a tear embed itself into your sleeve. "Do you know anything 'bout gender? Due date?"

You laughed, stroking his hair. "I've known probably for a week now. You were super busy when I found out, and I thought now was the appropriate time to tell you, considering the mood was chill and we're all here together."

He nods, releasing his grasp from your torso and going around to grab your daughter out of her high-chair and bringing her into a three hug. She was going to be a big sister soon, and for Boothill to even think about that seemed like a dream to him. He was officially going to be a father of two!

"Whens the due date????" He questioned. You shrugged, explaining to him that you wanted to wait to go to the first doctors appointment with him, and wanted to find all of this out at the same time he does. He felt joyful at your claim, happy that you didn't want to go behind his back.

You three moved to the couch, cuddling and watching a random kids show that your daughter happened to like. It put her to sleep right away, leaving you and Boothill to watch whatever. You turn on a more mature show when you put her in her crib, settling down next to him.

"Once this ones born, then maybe we can think about a dog."

He laughs his usual, hearty laugh before nodding. "Honestly, I think this is 1000 times better than a dog."

[ohgodthevoices]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Save point °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

time skip kenma x f!reader

word count : 3460

note : this fanfic will be on my ao3 >here< it might be more organized and easier to keep up with it but i will still upload the chapters here <3. AND IM SORRY IK ITS LONG TRUST ITS WORTH IT (find the hamilton ref)

chapter 1/ chapter 2/ chapter 3

Chapter 3

The office buzzed with an almost frantic energy, a sharp contrast to its usual laid-back atmosphere. Desks were cluttered with empty coffee cups, tangled wires, and hastily scribbled notes. 

“Textures on the environment assets are still glitching—can someone fix that before the demo?” “The dialogue tree isn’t syncing properly. Do we have a workaround?” “Where’s the updated build? We need to test it before Kenma sees it!”

You sat at your desk, tablet in hand, watching the chaos unfold around you. Your own work was mostly done—character designs finalized, animations polished—but the tension in the room was contagious. It felt like walking on a tightrope, the weight of the upcoming demo pressing down on everyone.

Kaori was sitting next to you , finishing up her own work “Emotional support” she said .

You glanced toward Kenma’s office, its glass walls giving him a perfect view of the bustling team. He sat at his desk, headphones on, his gaze fixed on his screen. His usual calm was unnerving in the midst of the chaos, as if he were completely unaffected by the looming deadline.

“Does he even feel stress?” you muttered under your breath, earning a chuckle from Lila.

“Probably not,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm doubting if he even has a soul.”

But even as you joked, you couldn’t help but notice his foot tapping the floor, the slight tension in his shoulders. Maybe he wasn’t as unshakable as he seemed.

A voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “We need the character renders loaded into the build now!”

You jolted, realizing they were talking to you. Quickly, you uploaded the files, double-checking each one before sending them over.

The clock ticked down, the buzz in the room growing more frantic by the second. By the time the demo was ready to begin, the air felt electric, every team member holding their breath as they waited to see if their hard work would pay off—or fall apart.

Time passed, the demo started , you weren't allowed in the room but you had a small view on the room where it happened 

From where you sat, you could just make out the faint sound of the game’s opening cinematic. You smiled to yourself, imagining how good your designs must look on the big screen. For a moment, you let yourself feel a flicker of pride.

Then the silence came.

It was the kind of silence that wasn’t supposed to happen during a demo, the kind that made your stomach drop. You glanced around the office, catching worried glances from a few coworkers. The sound of muffled voices picked up again, sharper now, though you couldn’t make out the words.

Kaori appeared beside your desk and placed a snack down next to you and leaned in. “It doesn’t sound good,” she whispered, her voice low.

You frowned, setting your sketches aside. “What happened?”

She shrugged, her expression grim. “Not sure, but I heard something about a major glitch.”

Your chest tightened. The game freezing? Dialogue breaking? A combat sequence failing to trigger? Any of it could spell disaster.

The door to the conference room opened, and people began to file out. Investors walked past with tight-lipped expressions, their voices hushed as they whispered to one another.

Then you saw Kenma.

He stepped out last, his posture as calm and measured as ever, but there was something different in his expression. His golden eyes were colder than usual, his lips pressed into a thin line. His gaze swept across the office before he walked toward his own, not sparing a glance at anyone.

Kaori let out a low whistle. “That’s not a good sign.”

You nodded, the weight of the moment settling in your chest. Whatever happened in that room, it was bad. And judging by Kenma’s face, it wasn’t something that would blow over easily.

—--------------------------------------------

The office was nearly empty when you finally tore your eyes away from your screen. Most of your coworkers had gone hours ago, leaving only you and a few employees in other sectors

You stretched, rolling your shoulders as fatigue crept in. You’d stayed late to rework the designs, hoping a few more hours might bring clarity—or at least a breakthrough. You let out a long sigh turning off your monitor and tablet

As you reached for your bag, a sound caught your attention. A muffled thud, followed by something quieter.. a faint, shaky..exhale ?

You froze, heart beating faster as you strained to listen. The sound was coming from further down the hall. God I didn't realise how creepy this office is at night , what if its a ghost, or some kind of lost spirit ?!

Curiosity prickled at you, though you told yourself it was concern. Slowly, you made your way down the corridor, your steps light against the carpet. Maybe you wouldn't survive in a horror movie but you needed to know what it was.

The hallway was dim, lit only by the glow spilling from a few open office doors. You passed by one, then another, but the noise seemed to grow louder as you neared the end of the corridor.

You stopped outside a door that was slightly ajar, the soft light spilling out into the hall. It wasn’t labeled, but you recognized the layout inside: a desk cluttered with papers, a glowing monitor, and the faint silhouette of someone hunched over.

You squinted, trying to make out more. The person inside was slumped forward, their head in their hands. Their shoulders shook slightly, and the sound of a sharp, uneven breath cut through the air.

Your heart skipped. You weren’t sure who it was, but the raw vulnerability of the scene stopped you in your tracks. This wasn’t just someone staying late to finish work—they were struggling, breaking down in a way that felt almost too personal to witness.

For a moment, you considered stepping inside, saying something, anything. But the weight of the moment held you back. What could you even say? Would they want to know you’d seen them like this?

It wasn’t until his head snapped up that you realized who it was. His watery eyes locked onto yours, wide with shock, and in that instant, everything clicked.

It was Kenma.

Your heart skipped, and a sudden rush of guilt flooded your chest. You hadn’t meant to see him like this—hadn’t meant to witness the rawness of his emotion. But there he was, hunched over his desk, his face partially hidden in his hands. The way his shoulders trembled with each breath, the tightness of his posture—it was clear he was trying to hold it all together, but it was slipping.

The moment his eyes met yours, something shifted in him. His expression twisted into something darker—anger, frustration—and the mask he always wore crumbled, revealing a vulnerability that took you by surprise.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped, his voice rough, more forceful than you’d ever heard it.

You flinched, the sharpness of his words hitting you like a physical blow. He quickly wiped his face with the back of his hand, but it was too late. The red of his nose and around his eyes and the wetness on his cheeks were impossible to ignore.

“I—” You started to speak, but the words stuck in your throat.

Kenma shot you a glare, his fists clenching at his sides as he stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. “Don’t you dare just stand there. Leave.”

The anger in his voice made your stomach twist. You hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to lash out at you like this, not when you’d only been a silent observer. But the more he tried to hide it, the more it became clear: he was furious at himself, at the situation, and somehow, you were a part of it.

You opened your mouth again, but Kenma was already turning away, his back to you as he moved to the other side of the room. His shoulders were tense, the anger radiating off of him like a physical force.

“I said leave.” His voice was quieter now, but the coldness in it sent a shiver down your spine.

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. But there was nothing more to say. You turned and walked away, the door clicking softly behind you as you left him to his solitude.

But even as you made your way back to your desk, the image of him—angry, frustrated, and vulnerable—stayed with you, gnawing at the back of your mind.

“Leave.” His command was sharp, almost too much to bear, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made you hesitate before turning around.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you stepped forward,  your resolve firming. “I’m not leaving” you said, your voice more certain than you felt. “You’re clearly struggling, and I can’t just ignore it.”

Kenma’s face tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides. He looked like he wanted to shout, to push you away with force, but instead, he just stood there, breathing heavily. The tension between you grew thick in the air, an almost electric charge that neither of you could shake.

“I don’t need your help.” His voice cracked.

But the more he tried to push you away, the more persistent you became. You could see the cracks in his carefully constructed wall, the way he was unraveling, and it gnawed at you. You didn’t care if he was angry. You couldn’t just leave him like this, not when he clearly needed someone.

“I’m not leaving you to drown in this,” you said, your tone steady, though your heart was racing. “You’re not alone in this, Kenma. I’m here.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, it seemed like he might explode. His jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with sharp breaths, but still, you didn’t back down.

“Why do you care so much?” he demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of frustration and something deeper—something that almost sounded like desperation. “It’s not your problem.” He didn’t bother to hide his tears anymore.

You stepped closer, not letting the anger in his voice deter you. “It is my problem. i’m part of this team. and I’m not going to just let you fall apart on your own.”

The words hung in the air between you, charged with something unspoken. Kenma stood there, glaring at you, but his shoulders were slumped, the anger slowly giving way to exhaustion. You could see the fight draining out of him, replaced by something else—something raw, something vulnerable.

He opened his mouth, probably to tell you to leave again, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he let out a long, frustrated sigh, his head dropping forward as he rubbed his temples.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, but it was weak, as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You didn’t buy it. “No, you’re not,” you said firmly. “But that’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

The silence between you was heavy. Kenma didn’t say anything, but he didn’t push you away either. The tension hung in the air, thick and palpable, but not in a bad way. It was as if, in that moment, you were both finally seeing each other as more than just colleagues, more than just distant coworkers that didn’t really stand each other.  There was an understanding now, a shared space where neither of you had to be perfect.

Kenma didn’t look at you as he sat back down at his desk, but his shoulders had relaxed just a little. His silence wasn’t a rejection—it was something else. Something that felt like the first step toward something more.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before finally stepping into the room a little more.

The sound seemed to pull Kenma’s attention back to you, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t have to stay,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, though the edge of frustration still lingered.

“I know,” you said simply, setting your tablet down on the edge of his desk. “But I’m here anyway.”

Kenma sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before crossing his arms on the desk and burying his face in between, and for a moment, he looked utterly drained. The usual sharpness in his gaze was dulled by exhaustion, and the faint shadows under his eyes betrayed how little sleep he’d gotten.

You pulled up a chair and sat across from him, folding your arms on the desk, getting in the same position as him, you chin resting on your forearm. “You’re not going to fix anything like this,” you said, your tone softer now but no less firm. “You can’t keep running yourself into the ground.”

Kenma sighed again, his shoulders rising and falling heavily as if the weight of the world rested on them. He shifted slightly, lifting his face from the cradle of his arms. His usually sharp eyes  met yours directly, and for a moment, the world seemed to still.

The intensity of his gaze caught you off guard,stoping your steady breathing, the soft glow of his desk lamp casting warm highlights over his features. You hadn’t realized how close you’d leaned in until now, the space between you shrinking to just a breath.

Your eyes flickered over his face, suddenly hyper-aware of every detail. The faint creases on his forehead from furrowing his brows too often. The slight flush on his cheeks, likely from exhaustion or frustration. The way his lips slightly open, as though holding back words he wasn’t ready to say. Even the stray strands of his ash-blonde hair that had fallen out of place seemed to draw your attention.

And his eyes—those damn eyes that seemed to hold a storm of emotions he refused to voice. Up close, you could see the subtle flecks of amber that softened their intensity, a contrast to the hard lines of his expression.

Your breath hitched—an unexpected flutter stirring in your chest. It wasn’t the kind of feeling you wanted to acknowledge, but the subtle warmth spreading through you was impossible to ignore, leaving you momentarily unsteady in the face of his quiet vulnerability. the proximity suddenly feeling too intimate, too charged. But you couldn’t look away, and neither could he.

For a fleeting moment, it felt like something unspoken passed between you, a fragile connection that neither of you fully understood. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, Kenma broke the silence, his voice low and rough.

“What are you staring at?” he muttered, his tone defensive but lacking its usual bite.

You blinked, snapping out of your trance. “Nothing,” you said quickly, leaning back in your chair and clearing your throat. “Just making sure you’re still alive, breathing… you know..” God that’s embarassingggg

Kenma huffed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself. “Barely.”

The tension eased slightly, but the memory of that moment lingered, the intensity of his gaze seared into your mind. You weren’t sure what it meant, but one thing was certain: you’d never seen Kenma like this before, and you might not be able to see it again

The room felt heavier than before, the silence stretching between you like a challenge neither of you wanted to address.

You sighed, leaning forward slightly. “Look,” you began, your voice steady but edged with frustration, “I’m going to be honest—I don’t really like you.” I’m risking my job right now…

That got his attention. Kenma’s eyes snapped up to meet yours, his expression a mix of surprise and something darker, like he was bracing for another jab.

“But,” you continued, your tone softening just enough to show you weren’t trying to pick a fight, “I’m still human enough to not leave someone alone when they’re clearly in this state.”

His brows furrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might snap back. Instead, he scoffed quietly, looking away. “I don’t need your pity,” he muttered, his voice low but strained.

“It’s not pity,” you shot back quickly. “It’s basic decency. And whether you like it or not, you look like you’re about two seconds away from completely crashing out.”

You could see the conflict playing out in his expression—the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes flickered between the desk and your face as if trying to decide whether to push you away or let you stay.

“Why do you care?” he asked finally, his tone sharp but quieter than before.

You shrugged, leaning back slightly. “Because I’ve been there. And because someone should.”

For a long moment, he just stared at you, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find some ulterior motive. When he didn’t, his shoulders sagged slightly, the fight seeming to drain out of him.

“Fine,” he muttered, turning back to his monitor. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to start spilling my guts or anything.”

A small smirk tugged at your lips. “Don’t worry. I’m not that invested. I still dont like you”

He let out a quiet huff that might have been a laugh—or maybe just an exhale—but he didn’t push you away yet.

The room was still heavy with tension, but something about it felt different now—less isolating, more... shared.

Neither of you said anything more, but the silence wasn’t as suffocating as before.

“Kenma,” you said, breaking the silence.

He didn’t look up. “What?”

“You need to eat something.”

“No I don’t”

“Yes you do”

“You’re annoying”

“I know” 

For a moment, it looked like he was going to argue, but instead, he let out a sharp sigh and reached for the half-forgotten snack bar on his desk. He unwrapped it with deliberate slowness, his movements almost begrudging.

“Happy now?” he muttered before taking a bite.

“Ecstatic,” you replied, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

Kenma rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else, you get up from the chair, satisfied that you’d won this round, even if it was a small victory

“I’m leaving,” you said over your shoulder as you turned toward the door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the doorknob, and then added with a wry smile, “don’t die yet, I need my salary.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you braced yourself for some curt remark. Instead, there was a pause, followed by a faint shift in his tone.

“Goodnight,” he said, his voice quieter, softer. You could almost hear a smile in the way he said it, subtle but unmistakable.

You froze for half a second, glancing back at him, but he was already focused on his screen again, the glow of the monitor highlighting the faintest curve at the corner of his lips.

A small grin crept onto your own face as you opened the door. “Goodnight, Kenma,” you replied, stepping into the hallway.

As the door closed behind you, the quiet of the corridor felt lighter somehow, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d just witnessed something rare—like catching a glimpse of sunlight breaking through the dark clouds.

You made your way back to your desk  your steps a little slower than usual as your mind replayed the interaction with Kenma. You gathered your bag, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should. There was a strange feeling in your chest—something between satisfaction and confusion.

You hadn’t expected him to react the way he did, especially not after all the tension that had built up between you two. His cold behaviour, his rejection of “extra” conversation with anyone, all of that had softened just a little. And that smile—or whatever it was, that subtle shift in his voice—caught you off guard. It wasn’t a big thing, but it was enough to make you wonder if there was more to him. 

You’d always thought of Kenma as someone who kept everyone at arm's length, someone who didn’t let anyone in. 

Why did you even care ? It wasn’t like you liked him ? He was frustrating, distant, and clearly didn’t want anyone getting too close. That was fine, you didn’t want to get close to him , he doesn’t seem like he would be a good friend anyway.

You stepped out of the office, the cool air of the night hitting your face as you walked toward the exit. But even as you headed home, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over. Your curiosity peaking at you, throwing questions at you. That’s human nature after all, once we get a glimpse of something we will always want more.

Eh whatever , you couldn’t be asked to care that much

note : i write way too much , way too fast. guys please i actually just write in class this is mad and probably very bad for me BUT OH WELL

@miruac