#HE DESERVES TO BE GINGER BRING IT BACK

[the-void-has-questions]

Okay now that I’m actually watching Sons of Garmadon, there’s actually some really good design choices that I love, but I will never forgive them for Jays hair…

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery VIII

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You go to the cat shelter

If Ingrid was getting you a cat then she would do it properly.

She'd researched cat shelters. She'd found one that had a recent intake of kittens.

A cat was a lifelong friend and you and your cat deserved to grow up together.

She'd contacted the shelter and arranged a visit.

Ingrid knew today would be the day you got your cat so she'd prepared with a carrier and some blankets. She'd expected you to get attached to the kittens, to want to keep all of them and she'd already planned out a speech on why you could only have one, two if they were particularly closely bonded.

Somehow, the alternative was much worse.

You hadn't gotten attached to the kittens at all. You'd had a lot of fun playing with them but none had sparked a bond with you.

So, Ingrid resigned herself to you having a full grown cat as your companion. It wasn't the growing up together idea she had planned but that was okay.

Ingrid watches as you go through the rows of enclosures full of cats. She's content to let you and Mapi take the lead, equally as excited as each other and feeding off each other's energy.

You gasp and Ingrid looks up from her phone.

"I love them!"

At first, Ingrid is glad that you've found a cat that you seem to like but then she looks at Mapi and goes pale. Mapi's eyes are wide and she's furiously shaking her head at Ingrid.

Mapi can deny you nothing so Ingrid knows it's up to her to guide you away from this decision.

Though she isn't quite sure why Mapi isn't happy that you've found your forever friend.

Well...maybe because it's not one forever friend but two.

Ingrid's face mimics Mapi's perfectly as she peers into the cage.

Two cats sit inside.

One is truly a monstrosity. It's massive with long, ginger fur and a tuft that reaches all around its neck like a mane. Its face is reminiscent of a lion as well, all regal and judgemental.

The second is also a ginger tabby but the size of a regular cat. Or, it would be if it wasn't the fattest cat Ingrid has ever seen. It's practically a circle and she wonders briefly how it's even supporting its own weight as it wanders over to where you've stuck your fingers through the arms.

"I see you've found our gingers."

Ingrid nearly screams as one of the shelter workers approach.

"They were surrendered by a nice old lady who couldn't care for them anymore."

Mapi scoffs. "Yeah, looks like she really cared for them." She's pointedly looking at the chunky cat that has now rolled onto its back for belly tickles that you strain through the bars to give it.

The shelter worker winces. "Yeah, he's a little fat, isn't he?"

"Not fat!" You snap," Cuddle sized!"

The worker laughs a little bit. "He does give good cuddles. But he's on a weight loss program. Believe it or not he was much larger when he arrived."

Ingrid can't believe it because this cat is truly round and she can't imagine it being fatter than it is now.

"And of course, we've got his young friend there. They were surrendered together so they're very attached. They're bonded so we can't let one go without the other."

"Here that, cub?" Ingrid decides to break it to you now. "We can't bring one of them home without the other. Say goodbye now and we'll go and look at the kittens again."

You pout, drawing your hand away from the fat cat. "Bye-bye."

You turn to leave, Mapi already halfway across the room to see the kittens again before a loud yowling chirp freezes you in your tracks.

The big lion cat keeps warbling until you turn to face it.

"Sorry," You say," Mama says we can't take you away from each other."

As if he knows who to blame, the lion cat hisses at Ingrid before purring as he rubs his body across the bars of the cage. His fat companion remains flopped on his back in invitation (though Ingrid's ninety percent sure it's because he's so fat that he can't actually get up again).

Ingrid tries to guide you away but the lion cat keeps calling for your attention and the fat cat stays on his back for belly tickles.

She looks at Mapi for help.

"No," She says, catching Mapi's apologetic look," Mapi, no. He's fat and the other one is a monstrosity."

"Ingrid..."

"Mapi! You can't be serious!"

"We agreed on getting her a cat."

"Yes, a cat! One cat!"

"You said two at a stretch," You say quite unhelpfully. Over the course of the argument, you've somehow gotten into the cage and are sitting on the floor happily as you give the fat cat belly tickles while the monster sits in your lap.

"Oh, yeah, you did say that Ingrid."

"Mapi, whose side are you on right now?"

"Er...I'll be quiet. Cub, if you want the cats you need to convince Ingrid."

"I won't be convinced."

You stay silent for a long while even as Ingrid tries to get you moving.

Eventually, you stand and approach her. The fat cat is dangling from your hands as you present him like baby Simba. The lion cat sits at your feet, teeth bared in warning should Ingrid deny you.

"I love them!" You tell Ingrid earnestly," They're both cuddle sized and I love them a lot!"

"Cub," Ingrid says," They might be mean to Bagheera. You don't want Bagheera to feel sad, do you?"

"Actually," The damned shelter worker says," They're both perfectly good with other cats."

"Well..." Ingrid desperately tries to come up with another excuse.

"Mama," You say," Please?" Your eyes glisten with unshed tears as the fat cat mews pitifully at Ingrid.

She sighs.

"Cub, if I let you-"

"Mami! Mama's letting me keep them!" You tell Mapi triumphantly who gives you the biggest fake smile in the world.

"That's great, Cub!" She tells you before muttering under her breath to Ingrid," How could you let this happen?! The monster is going to kill me in my sleep! And the fat one is going to eat all our food!"

"How is this my fault?!" Ingrid hisses back, already reaching to take the paperwork," You're the one that left it up to me!"

"Because you're meant to be the strong one! We both know I would have caved much earlier! Why couldn't you be strong, Ingrid? Why?"

Ingrid signs her name on all of the papers and sighs. "Because she was about to cry and the monster looked like he was about to bite me."

Both of them turn to look at where you're still cuddling with the fat one. The monster is staring back at them, unblinking as it flicks its ear dismissively.

"Are we sure that's a cat?" Mapi checks," I think we should call the zoo."

"It might eat us before that..."

You seem happy though, a beaming smile on your face all the way home.

Both cats make themselves at home. The fat one finds Bagheera's usual sunspot and flops down. His whole body stretches out as he snoozes easily.

The monster immediately jumps onto the kitchen counters to survey his new kingdom and you dart around setting out the new bowls and toys before grinning at Ingrid and Mapi, who are awestruck at how brazen these new cats are.

Bagheera seems to be similarly shocked and a tad judgemental as she pokes her head out of her cat tree to stare.

"He is Garfield," You point at the fat one," Because he is round and cuddle sized." You point at the monster. "And that's León because he is my little lion."

In no way would Ingrid describe that cat as little.

Mapi, for the first time today, decides to be helpful. "You can't call him León," She says," That's our surname. He's León León."

You nod. "I know. It's a pretty name for a pretty lion."

Ingrid wouldn't describe him as pretty either.

"Garfield and León-León," You say with an air of finality," Mami, Mama, thank you for my kitties!"

[tightjeansjavi]

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆ Tinsel ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

A/N: all I gotta say is..WHEN IS IT MY TURN DAMMIT 🥲

joel deserves nice things™ ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

~word count: 4.9k~

pairing | boyfriend! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery, but your Texas hunk of a boyfriend makes sure that this holiday season you feel loved.

Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mommy issues for the reader, typical holiday angst, readers mother is a bitch, mentions of smoking and consuming alcohol, unprotected piv, dom/sub vibes, fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, cock warming, light ass slapping, unconditional love, Sarah and Ellie exist in this universe (Ellie is adopted) best friend! Tommy, close family vibes, soft! Joel, protective! Joel, Tommy is like a big brother to the reader, reader has no physical descriptions, there is one scene where Joel picks the reader up, no age gap, Christmas traditions, +18, minors dni! Please let me know if I missed anything!

“Hey, babe?” You chimed from the living room. Both hands on your hips as you peered up at your beautifully decorated Christmas tree. “Do you think the tree could use some more tinsel?”

Your boyfriend, Joel Miller was in the kitchen with Sarah and Tommy who were on cookie duty, while Joel was crafting together the best goddamn gingerbread house your mother would ever see in her lifetime. (You hoped)

“Here she goes again with the tinsel.” Sarah giggled, gently nudging her uncle with her elbow.

Joel gave his daughter a playful warning glare before picking up a dusting of flour between his fingers and threw it at her with a grin. “Be nice, baby girl. Y’know how her mom is with this stuff. Everythin’ has gotta be perfect.”

“I’ll be there in just a sec, honey!” He called back, brushing his flour coated hands on his apron and retreated from the kitchen while Tommy and Sarah snickered.

“I still think we should add more tinsel, Joel. Maybe more ornaments? If she sees a single bald spot on the tree—” you’re caught off guard from bare, broad arms wrapping around your waist from behind. His aquiline nose brushes the exposed bit of skin along your neckline. He inhales deeply, smelling of cinnamon, clove, and ginger with a hint of Joel.

“Baby,” he rasps warm and deep, lips pressing to your warmed skin with affectionate sweetness. “The tree is gorgeous. I don’t see any bald spots.” A gentle squeeze to your hips, followed by another peck.

“But—” your voice falls short.

You melt back into his arms the way that marshmallows do in steaming hot chocolate. Pliant in his hold, suppressing a giggle when the scratchy bits of his patchy beard gently scrape your skin.

“But nothin’, baby. How about you help frost the cookies, hm? Get your mind off this damn tinsel.” You feel his lips curve into a smile along your skin. His chuckle vibrates up his chest and through your sweater covered spine. His hands drop from your hips, settling against the curve of your back, fingertips slipping into the denim pockets.

Cheeky.

A grumbled sigh from your lips, agreement, for the time being. The topic of tinsel would be brought up again. Your hand floated upwards towards his face, fingertips ghosting the patchy spots that you loved to press hidden kisses to. A finger hooks around his jaw, pulling him downwards to meet you in a kiss.

He obliges to your silent request. His nose brushes yours eliciting a sweet giggle to pass through your parted lips. The sounds of Santa Baby drowns out in the background. White noise compared to the steady thumping of yours and Joel’s synchronized hearts.

“I’ll be bringing up the tinsel again, Joel.” You murmur through the palpable warm tension.

“I know you will, darlin’” he tuts playfully, “But shh. Less talkin’, baby. Kiss me, doll.” He all but demands. The gap between you is closed. He kisses you sweetly, squeezing your flesh below the denim fabric. You swat playfully, melting once more when his tongue swipes your lower lip, testing—

“Ain’t hearin’ much talkin’ goin’ on in there!” Tommy remarks from the opening of the kitchen. Smirk plastered.

It’s Joel’s turn to grumble. A hint of annoyance on his breath. He breaks away from the kiss begrudgingly, but not before he can whisper just for your ears to hear, “we’ll finish this later.” Shortly followed by an encouraging pat to your jean clad ass, and a nudge towards the kitchen.

“These cookies ain’t gonna frost themselves!”

“Relax, brother. We’re coming!” Joel shoots you a wink with a suggestive tilt of his chin in your direction. The simple action alone sends a wave of arousal gushing through the thin fabric of your panties. A jolt, like a bolt of lighting.

4 years of dating your Texas hunk, and the sparks were still flying.

Sarah and Tommy both give you and Joel a cheeky little grin once you appear in the kitchen. An apron is tossed in your direction. Your eyes roll playfully with a shake of your head.

Joel returns to his gingerbread house making when you realizing that there’s one more member missing. “Is Ellie still asleep?” You ask while glancing at the clock along the wall.

“Must be. I’ll go and drag her out of bed.” Joel announced. He untied his apron and laid it flat across the table. He brushed past you on his way out of the kitchen.

Ellie Miller was in fact still dead asleep when he quietly pushed open her bedroom door. “Ohh Jelly Bean.” He cooed, using her least favorite nickname purposely.

A pillow was tossed carelessly in his direction with the intent to hit him, but Joel was ready for it and ducked out of the way. “C’mon, baby girl. It’s half past 10 and we could really use your help downstairs.” Joel said while reaching for the comforter to yank back.

“Can’t the cookies frost themselves? Y’know how I feel about the holidays, Dad.” She grumbled with her face squished into her pillow.

“Mhm. I sure do. Just a buncha commercialized crap around a jolly big ole’ fat man that breaks into people's houses, steals their cookies, and leaves crap under the tree. The only cool part of Santa Claus is his reindeer.” Joel said monotonically.

“You’re forgetting the bit where Rudolph is the coolest because of—”

“His bright shinin’ red nose. See, I remember these things, kiddo. Now, please get on up and help us out. If you don’t wanna frost the cookies, then you can help me finish with the gingerbread houses. Fair deal?” Joel crossed his arms against his chest while he awaited her response.

Ellie let out a long, dramatic sigh before she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. I’ll come down and help out.” She grumbled.

“Thank you, grinchy.” He said teasingly while she shot him a playful glare. “There’s coffee downstairs too, if ya want any.”

Her nose turned upwards as she let out a disgusted sound. “Gross. Y’know how I feel about that stuff. It’s nasty. Smells like burnt shit. Don’t know how you drink that crap.” She grimaced.

“Hot chocolate?” He suggested with a warm grin.

“Now we’re talkin.’” She grinned.

Once the cookies were properly frosted, and the two gingerbread houses were fashioned, it was time for a well deserved break. Tommy volunteered to take Sarah and Ellie out sledding and then lunch while Joel stayed back to help you clean the kitchen.

Your boyfriend had his own idea of ‘cleaning’ and taking a break. You had just started the dishes when you felt his warm presence envelop and invade your senses. His strong arms were wrapped around you once more, and the tip of his broad nose was pressed into your neck, curls tickling your cheekbones.

“Have you come to help me with washing duty, baby?” You asked softly when his lips pressed an opened mouth kiss to your exposed skin. You learned very quickly early on in your relationship that Joel Miller was a lover, and a giver. He always needed to be close to you in some way.

“Mhm. I have, honey. But, I was hopin’ I could make you feel good first. I think the dishes can wait. Don’t you?” He nuzzled against you, thumbs slipping through the front pockets of your jeans.

“Joel..” you warned.

“Please, baby. I know the holiday season gets you all wound up. Let me help you relax, and then I will do the dishes and finish cleaning up here. Afterwards, you and I can settle in for a well deserved nap. How’s that sound?”

How did you get so lucky?

“You’re so good to me, baby. I suppose we can—” your words become lodged in your throat when his teeth graze your delicate skin. He nibbles playfully, knowing just how to get his girl going. His fingers toy with the button on your jeans before he pops it open.

“You’re my girl, ain’t ya? I live for makin’ you happy and feelin’ good. I love you very much, darlin.’ And I’ll be damned if this time of the year beats you down again.” He whispers while pulling down the zipper swiftly. His unoccupied hand slips under your sweater where he can feel your stomach clench inwards, the quickness of your breath while he splays his long, rugged fingers across your skin.

(If you ain’t dating a proper cowboy yet, then what the hell are you doin?’)

You allow yourself to indulge and melt into his grasp when his hand slips beneath the confines of your jeans, and below your panties. His broad fingers stroke gently between your folds, gathering up the slickness that has pooled there from this morning’s earlier interaction.

“Talkin’ of tinsel really gotcha goin,’ huh baby? Or was it the way that your handsome boyfriend was talkin’ to ya? Is that what got your pretty little pussy drippin?’” He purrs and your knees nearly buckle. Your Joel has never been shied away from dirty talk, and he knows how much you love it when filth drips from between his perfect lips.

You laugh, and it’s music to his ears whenever you let your guard down around him. Your head falls back ceremoniously against his shoulder, admiring his side profile through fluttered lashes. “It definitely wasn’t the damn tinsel, that’s for sure.”

“Thought so.” He mused with a rumbling deep chuckle. He’s acutely aware of your budding desperation taking the front and center stage when your hips buck upwards into his palm. “Someone’s a bit eager, hm? Want me to stretch this pretty pussy apart with my fingers, baby? S’that what my sweet girl wants?”

“Mhmm.” Is really all you’re able to get out because your mind is swirling, intoxicated with your boyfriend, and his goddamn hands that know how to play you to ruin. A flush rises to your cheeks, skin burning red hot like embers in a fire when his lips ghost the shell of your ear, sending a warm chill down every vertebrae in your spine.

“Can’t hear ya, honeybun. Gonna need ya to speak up for me.” His fingers dip down lower, teasing your tight wet hole that pulses around nothing, feeling empty and neglected thus far. His teeth bite down on your lobe, tugging it down playfully and elicit a desperate little mewl to slip past your lips.

“Fingers, daddy. Now. Please.” Your requests come out scrambled, misconstrued, but audible nonetheless. He seems pleased enough with your response and slowly sinks in two of his thick digits; ring and middle knuckle deep inside of your pulsing cunt. His hand encasing your entire mound while his thumb finds your clit with ease, curling his fingers inwards in a ‘come hither’ motion.

“Fuuck.” You moaned, wanton, depraved, love drunk on your Texas hunk.

His non-dominant hand that was presently resting along your stomach drops down. It takes him all of 5 seconds to tug your jeans down over your ass and thighs, exposing your bare skin to the room temperature air. His hand massages your supple flesh, curving against your spine before pulling back and returning with one firm smack to your left cheek that echoes through the expanse of the kitchen. “‘Atta girl.” He praises you lovingly, massaging the irritated skin before he delivers another smack, harder this time. It’s just enough to send you jolting forward into his hand, crying out his name.

The muscles in his bicep flex under the natural light flooding in through the kitchen windows. His fingers pump in and out, in and out. The mixed sounds of your pleasure, and your cunt squelching around his fingers sends blood flowing southwards to his hardening cock. You feel the press of him against your lower back when you reach around, fingers blindly searching till they find their home against the bulge in his jeans.

He grunts, lower lip taken harshly between his teeth, the speed of his wrist movements increase when you stroke him through the tight confines. You can feel all of him through the fabric, and you’re prideful that his desperately hard cock is just for you.

“Gonna fuck yourself against my fingers, baby? Gonna use me to get yourself off?” He questions hastily, breath shuddering when he finds himself grinding his hips in your hand with a need to satiate the building friction.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, mouth falling open in an ‘o’ shape when his fingers kiss that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. You’re so close, nearly at the edge when his fingers slip out, leaving you abandoned before his bending down and hoisting you over his shoulder like a rag doll.

His steps are calculated and precise carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom. He tosses you on the bed in a playful manner, lips finding yours in a chaste kiss while his hands tug your jeans down completely, followed by your panties. “Couldn’t wait any longer to be inside ya, baby” his words fall like whispers against your lips. You reach for his belt, undoing it with that sweet giggle that he loves so much.

He licks into your mouth like a man starved when you finally release him from his confines. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. His lips detach, a string of saliva connecting you to him before he plops down beside you on his back.

“We don’t even need to fuck, honey. Jus’ wanna be inside ya. Take a nap with my cock keepin’ you stuffed full.” He’s vulgar, greedy when he reaches for you. You melt like putty, sticky and sweet, and dripping.

“I love keeping your cock warm, daddy. Almost as much as I love it when you send me to a new dimension.” You murmur, settling against his chest. Your hand reaches down between your bodies, grasping his length and guiding it to your opening. A combined sweet sigh when he eases himself inside of you.

“So fuckin’ perfect for me. Warm, wet, huggin’ me s’tight.” He sounds drunk now too. His grin is lazily, placid when your eyes meet in a loving gaze. His hips shift beneath you, bottoming out, filling, stretching, while you pull him in.

His chin dips down, capturing your lips once more. It’s probably one of his favorite things to do, kissing you. Lips that he believes were made for him. A peck to your nose follows, teeth nibbling, giggles, sweet sounds.

“Joel?” You ask through the domestic calmness that shelters you both.

“Mhmm?” He rumbles, words rolling slowly against his tongue.

“I love you.”

His arms shift to wrap around you, holding you close. Heartbeats entwined. “I love you too, baby doll. And no matter what happens this Christmas, you’re perfect to me. No matter what your mother thinks, or says, you’re perfect.”

“Did you knit these ghastly things yourself?” Your mother criticizes the sweaters you knitted for yourself, Joel, Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah. It was your first big knitting project. A daunting task at first, but the old ladies at the senior center you volunteered at were both charming, and helpful.

“Yes, mother. I knitted them myself.” Her words hurt, but that’s what champagne spritzers are for. You take a hefty sip from your champagne flute.

“Well, the pattern is all wrong, dear.” She drops the sleeve of your sweater with a sigh. “Your home looks lovely, by the way, but your tree could use more tinsel. I noticed five bald spots when I first walked in.” She has no idea how many hours you spent decorating the tree in the living room, the mantles, outside in the front yard. You worked tirelessly with your family, and she still had the audacity to say something negative about it.

You fake a smile, catching a glance from your Texas hunk who is preoccupied in the kitchen with making sure that dinner is absolutely perfect.

“Thank you for the compliment, mother. Can I get you more champagne?” You ask, hoping that you can just take a breather finally.

“Oh, thank you dear, that would be lovely. Where’s that boyfriend of yours, Joe?” She waved her wrist carelessly, bracelets chiming in your ears. Even after four years, your mother still didn’t call your boyfriend by his real name.

“His name is Joel, mother. And he’s in the kitchen with his brother who is helping him with dinner.” You respond flatly.

“Joe. Joel, what’s the difference?” She doesn’t get it. She never does, and never will.

“Mother, it’s rude. He’s my boyfriend of almost five years, and you can’t even bother to remember his name?” You’re on the edge of snapping. It's not fair that your mother thinks that just because her husband divorced her that she gets to make everyone close to her miserable too.

“He’s still your boyfriend? Well, by now I surely would think that you’d be engaged and married. Who in their right mind plays house with a man for almost five years? Dear, have I taught you nothing?”

Tears prick the corner of your eyes from the blow of her words. You and Joel never felt like you needed to get married. It was just a piece of paper, shared finances, social status that neither of you cared for. You loved each other, you loved Sarah and Ellie, and viewed Tommy like a brother. Wasn’t that enough?

“Excuse me, mother, while I go top off your glass.”

She doesn’t see the glassy look in your eyes when you snatch the flute from her. Your footsteps carry you directly to the kitchen. For a brief moment you think about tossing the glass into the sink and letting the crystal shatter, but you opt to set it down on the counter.

Joel and Tommy are watching you closely from a distance. You’re visibly upset, and no fake smile can hide that.

I just need a breather.

The air is chilly, and the sky is clear with twinkling stars. Your tears glisten under the Christmas lights hanging above the front step when you hear the front door open and close. You move quickly to douse out the lit cigarette that is pursed between your painted lips, feeling a twinge of shame from a habit you couldn’t quite break.

“You don’t gotta hide that on my account, sweetheart.” Tommy said softly with his hands shoved in his jean pockets.

“I just..needed something to take the edge off.” You know that there’s no reason to explain yourself to him, or anyone for that matter. Tommy’s been your best friend for years, and he was the one that introduced you to Joel in the first place.

“I get it. Family can be real assholes sometimes, huh? It’s like that one scene in National Lampoon’s where the wife says, “it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, and the misery is my mother.” You scoff and offer him your cigarette.

“Ah. What did she have to say this time around?” He asks while taking the cigarette between your fingers and bringing it against his lips.

“What didn’t she have to say?” You stifled a bitter laugh. “Five bald spots on the tree. The sweaters I knitted are ghastly, and she refuses to call Joel by his real name. Oh, and the cherry on top? She thinks I’m naive for ‘playing house with a man who isn’t even my husband.’”

“Bald spots? Where? The sweaters you made us are adorable, and what a bitch. I swear, that woman grows more callous every year. Who cares if you and Joel aren’t married? What’s it any of her business to do in your private life? You’re happy, aren’t you? She’s jus’ bein’ bitter cus’ you got a man that loves you unconditionally, and her husband left her.” Tommy finishes off what is left of the cigarette before he douses it out with the toe of his boot.

More tears begin to freely fall when you begin to fold in on yourself. “I love that man so fucking much, Tommy. He makes me so unbelievably happy and I just wish she could support me. To be my mother for once in her goddamn life and not this jealous..entity.” You sniffled.

“Oh, honey, it’s Christmas time and tears are not allowed!” Tommy attempted to joke, but when he saw just how upset you were, he switched gears and wrapped you up in his arms. “She’ll never understand, unfortunately. But that’s her loss. She could be real happy for you, and Joel, if she wanted to. But jealous people miss out on those happy moments I’m afraid. She refuses to be happy, and that ain’t have anythin’ to do with you, sweet pea.” He reassured you.

What Tommy really wanted to tell you, but couldn’t say, was that soon enough he’d be your brother in law, and your Texas hunk was going to ask you to marry him, to be his wife, at the stroke of midnight tonight when all the guests would retire home.

“You’re right, Tommy. You’re absolutely right. She’s choosing to be unhappy for me. That’s her choice, not mine. And you know what? Fuck her. She doesn’t get to hold this over me. I’m happy, and I refuse to let her ruin that for me.” You hug him back tightly.

“‘Atta girl. Now, let’s get back inside before my brother starts worryin’ more than he already has. I’ll entertain your mother so that you can have a break. How’s that sound?”

“Really? You’ll do that for me? Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. I’ll get her all liquored up.” He jokes with a playful wink.

Your lips peck his cheek in a non-romantic gesture. Tommy has always been your rock.

Dinner surprisingly runs smoothly, and you no longer have to deal with your mother because Tommy is talking up a storm with her, and she actually..smiles? Maybe it was just the champs.

Your Texas hunk is seated beside you with his hand resting along your thigh underneath the table. His thumb is rubbing reassuring circles against the silky fabric of your tights. He checks in with you between bites, silent glances, softened eyes. God, you loved this man.

Ellie, Sarah, and Joel helped you with the dishes while Tommy drove your cousin home. He had a crush on her for years, and finally grew a pair to make it known. Your mom, thankfully, went home with your aunts.

It was nearing midnight when Joel returned from upstairs after saying goodnight to the girls and wishing them sweet dreams. He found you curled up in the loveseat next to the fireplace, deep in thought with a half drunk glass of wine resting alongside the table. The rim of the glass was coated in a residue of your lipstick that had long since rubbed off.

“Is there room for me there?” He gestured to the loveseat with a small grin.

Your eyes met his in a soft gaze, and a subtle nod. And when you start to rise from the cushion, he stops you and instead lifts your thighs up gently before scooting in behind you so you’re draped across his lap comfortably.

“Are the girls asleep?” You ask as his hand rests around your hip.

“Mhm. Jus’ you and me, baby.” He replies with a swipe of his lips against your forehead. “Is everythin’ okay? You looked upset earlier..”

“Oh.” You sigh. “Yeah, everything is okay, Joel. It's just the holidays, and my mother, but I’m okay.” You reassure him while your hand drifts up towards the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair with your nails gently scratching his scalp.

“Yeah, I reckon she had some shit to say? I’m sorry, baby doll. But remember what I said earlier? You’re perfect to me no matter what your mother thinks or says.” He murmured. His hand that wasn’t resting along your hip reaches up, his thumb brushes across your chin, eyes boring into yours with sincerity and pure love.

“I just..I hate her sometimes, and I know I shouldn’t because she’s my mother, but she’s a bitter woman, and I don’t want her in my life anymore, Joel. Not when she’s like this.” You nearly croak, and his face falls. His lips curved downwards into a deep set frown. He senses your tears before they even begin to fall.

“Hey, just because she’s your mother, doesn’t mean that she has a right to be in your life, baby. It’s your life, and you get to decide who you want to be a part of it.” He can feel the weight of the small box growing heavy in his pocket. “Darlin’, I love you, and I just want my girl to be happy.” He confessed.

“You’re right. It's my life and I get to make those choices, not her. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to—”

He shushes you softly. His thumb gently presses down against your lower lip before he steals a quick kiss to reassure you, and himself. “Hey, you ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. You’re perfect. You’re amazing. Could give less of a fuck what your bitter mother has to say about it. I love you for you, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”

He pauses, swallowing the lump that is growing in his throat. He releases your hip gently before reaching into his pocket. “I know I shoulda asked you this question a long time ago, but I had to be sure that..it was perfect. All my life I’ve found myself bein’ a hopeless romantic. Always giving, never receivin’ the same kinda love I put out there. Never thought that one person could make a man’s heart feel so full, so complete till I met you. Now, you know I ain’t one for cliches, but I love you with everything my heart has to offer, and I want nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, my beautiful, sweet, unconditionally lovin’, girl.”

“Joel..are you—oh my god.” You’re in disbelief, heart thumping rapidly out of your chest when he pulls out a small, forest green velvet encased box.

“I ain’t finished yet, darlin.’” He tuts playfully. “So, will you do me the honors of becoming my wife? And as your husband, I promise to never stop lovin’ you, t’never stop supportin’ you, no matter what life throws our way?” His eyes are glassy with freshly brewed tears. He doesn’t even have the chance to open the box and reveal the ring to you before you’re throwing your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs from how tightly you’re hugging him.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you! Oh my god, a million times, yes!” You’re so happy you can barely contain it.

“Dontcha wanna see the ring?” He laughed warmly, wrapping his arms around you. “Ellie and Sarah helped me pick it out.”

“Aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee and all that?” You ask teasingly while you pull back from the hug and hold out your left hand.

“Oh, shit! You’re right! I’m doin’ this all wrong.” He chuckled with a shake of his head.

“No, fuck the tradition. Let’s do it our way.” You suggest and he smiles brightly, dimples peeking through. You open the box together revealing the dainty ring that had you written all over the design. An oval shaped diamond in the center, a shiny gold band, and two smaller diamonds on either side.

“It’s beautiful, Joel. You and the girls have impeccable taste.” Your heart swells when his lips press to your ring finger before he carefully slips the ring into place.

“It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t compare to the woman who’s wearing it.” He comments thoughtfully while your hands come to rest along his cheeks. His face is held tenderly while I love you’s are whispered only for yours and his ears. It’s not long before you're chasing one another’s lips. He kisses you with the same amount of passion every single time.

“Keep the sweater on, baby.” You request between kisses while his hands make quick work of tearing your thin tights open for easy access.

“I’ll buy ya a million pairs. Jus’ wanna make love to my future wife fireside without any obstructions.” His hands rest upon either side of your hips when you straddle his lap.

“And I want my future husband to sit back and watch his future wife ride his cock.” You finalize your words with a searing kiss while your fingers work open the button on his jeans. You push the material down just enough that you can pull his cock free.

“M’so fuckin’ lucky. God, I am so lucky. All my life I’ve been waitin’ for someone like you, baby.” He grunts lovingly, unconditionally when you finally sink down around him. “I can’t fuckin’ wait to grow old with you.”

Your hips roll slowly against his while he pulls you in with gentle hands. There’s no teeth clashing, or skin slapping. It’s just good ole fashioned love making by the fire. Just you and your Texas hunk.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Miller. You’re the only man in this world that deserves my heart.

banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

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[slushycoookie]

My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt. 2

Pt.1 - Pt.2

Relationship: Symbiote! Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Content: Smut, p in v, vaginal fingering, Miguel gets choked, Reader can't go ten minutes without being railed, MINORS DNI!

Summary: You try to have a serious conversation about the symbiote Miguel has, but it doesn't really work.

A/N: I'm having so much fun with this, don't mind me. Also, you guys really liked the first part, so here's some more!

After the most wonderful sex you had in your life, you had to get a grip.

It couldn't happen again. Having sex with an alien that your husband bonded with. You were still trying to understand why using a symbiote was the best action out of everything else. You all could try the normal way. Without taking extreme measures. Or, in your case, out-of-this-world ones. That's what you decided to do getting up this morning.

You took your time putting on clothes, your legs wobbling as you stood. You smelled the strong scent of coffee while traversing to the kitchen. Only to get a view of your husband's gorgeous back. 

“Good morning.” Miguel handed you a cup of coffee as a peace offering. As you took it, you tried not to get distracted by his hairy chest and arms. Or how his sweatpants hung low around his waist. 

“Good morning.” You smiled against your cup, “Sleep well?”

He nodded, matching your smile. “Did you?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes darted around his form. No clear view of his new symbiote. Unless he put it in a bottle. “Where is it? Or them?”

Miguel rubbed the back of his neck, “They're still here.” Just then, his new best friend appeared. Only its head, sporting your partner's signature blue and red colors. Its smile and tongue gave you flashbacks of how that was on your lower half last night. Taking exceptionally good care of you. You squeezed your thighs again to ignore the arousal.

“Pretty thing.” A weird form of greeting they uttered before disappearing.

“We should definitely talk about that. In-depth.” You settled your cup down.

Miguel did the same, standing beside you. “What's more to talk about? I told you why I got one.”

“And I understood that.” You sighed, “But that can't happen again. We should try like normal people. Go see a doctor, try more sex positions…”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you close. “We're not normal people.”

“I know.” You let out a slight laugh, “But I think it's best to-”

“Did you not enjoy last night?” 

Your heartbeat picked up. His eyes were lowered, gazing at you with an emotion you knew all too well. It didn't help that he smelled so good. Hints of ginger mixed with the fresh coffee hugged your senses. Or the way his rugged arms held you up last night while thrusting into you. “I did-”

He stole a kiss. Stopping you from regretting anything that occurred last night. You started making out in the kitchen, absorbed in the bitter coffee taste. Which somehow turned into you getting destroyed from behind. Miguel's symbiote form pressed against your back, body rutting into you. His ginormous hands covered the countertops. Little cracks formed with each thrust he took. You couldn't be upset about the destruction of your kitchen. You didn't want him to stop.

“You deserve to have our children…” That deep voice resonated in the room, causing you to shiver. 

“Don’t say that…” You whimpered, pressing your ass back against him. A territorial growl emitted from behind and he went harder. Pounding into you until you screamed his name.

Everything was a mess. 

The countertops were damaged, coffee spilled on the floor along with the broken pieces from your mugs. And a sticky, warm substance was sliding down your thighs. Miguel’s normal hand reached down and scooped up whatever was coming out. Pushing it back in to make sure it didn't go to waste. All while he kissed your head.

You couldn't even talk to him about the symbiote in the room. Whenever you tried to bring up getting rid of it, somehow you were on your back, side, bent over or on top. Taking your partner's cock like a champ. Getting full of his seed. And at the end of it, feeling completely satisfied. 

You ranted to MJ and Jess when you all went out for lunch at a café. It's been a week of Miguel using you like his own sex toy.

“All I heard is that you've been getting some.” Jess remarked while sipping on her drink. “And you're complaining about it.”

“Because he's distracting me! So I don't tell him to get rid of it!” You buried your face in your hands.

“Well…how big is it?” Mj asked, eyes wide with genuine curiosity. 

You raised a brow as your cheeks turned dark. “I shouldn't tell you that.”

“You look the way you did when you came back from your honeymoon.” Jess noticed your body practically glowing from all the sex you were having. “We gotta know how good it is.”

The table they were sitting at was rectangular in shape. Long enough for you to show them how big Miguel was with his symbiote. Which was almost half of the table. 

“Whoa.” Mj gawked at the description. “And tell me why you're complaining again.”

You rolled your eyes, “Symbiotes are dangerous! I don't want him to get obsessed with it all because of a problem I have.” You turned to Jess, “Shouldn't you be agreeing with me here? Didn't you have a symbiote?”

Jess waved you away, “No, because I'm too smart not to put myself through that.” You purse your lips as the Spider-Woman kept going. “They are dangerous, but only if they don't have a decent relationship with who they're attached to.”

“Yeah, Peter was very different when he had it.” Mj explained, twirling her drink around with a straw. “First he was energized and then snippy. He couldn’t part with it until he had a wake-up call that it was destroying our relationship. It was scary.”

That's what you were worried about. Your partner turning into someone you couldn't recognize. You weren't scared of him but for him.

“You know you can say no, right?” Jess said before getting a mischievous glint in her eye. “But you don't want to. The sex is that good, huh?”

You gasped at her accusation, “You are…absolutely right.” Your friends sympathized with you, “But we need to talk…”

You had to come up with a plan. A way so you could talk without having his cock buried inside you. You decided to visit him at HQ, trying to look as unattractive as possible with a hoodie and sweatpants. Being married to the leader of Spider Society had its perks. One of them was looking into mission distribution. You noticed the teen dream, which you called Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Hobie, and Margo, going to report to Miguel that day. You couldn't barge in when he spoke to Peter. He'd have Mayday with him, adding more fuel to the fire. Or any reports with Ben because Miguel would get jealous and sex would ensue. A bunch of teens on the other hand was perfect.

You approached the group as they were about to make their way into his lab.

“Hey!” Miles greeted with open arms, “What brings you here?”

“Oh, I need to talk to Miguel about something.” You waved it off, not deeming it as important. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Hobie said with a smirk, causing you to shake your head.

“No, no. It's just about the symbiote. You guys think it's weird, right? That he's using it?”

“Actually,” Gwen took over, “some of our people have had success stories in using it. Like me, for example.”

You stared at the girl, surprised. “What? You had a good relationship with one of those things?”

“Yeah. It's no big deal.” Gwen shrugged it off. The entire time they were slowly making their way inside his lab. Going past his equipment in the darkness.

Pavitr jumped on her back, “She says it's no big deal. Like a boss.”

“That's Gwendy for ya.” Hobie winked at her.

“Guys, it really isn't a big deal. Symbiote relationships can be symbiotic. It depends on the person and who they connect with. It could make them better or worse.” 

Everyone blinked at Gwen's explanation. Your knowledge of her connection with the alien made you pause. Was it possible for Miguel to have a healthy relationship with the thing? Were you stressing yourself out worrying about him?

“Miguel has been getting better lately.” Miles cut in.

“Yeah, at first he was moody, but then he gave me the day off so I could play a new game that came out.” Margo added. “He never lets me take the day off for video games.”

You hummed. Sure, his mood was getting better, but they still had to talk. You didn't want to assume everything was okay until they at least spoke about it.

Inside the lab, the teens gave their report to Miguel. The entire time he stood high on his platform, nodding to everything they were saying. Once in a while, he’d glance at you, a trace of intrigue, like he wanted to talk. Or breed you before getting back to work. You couldn’t relax seeing him in his typical suit. The symbiote was still attached to him, just not present. 

“Good work.” Miguel complimented, “Now, my partner needs to speak to me about something.”

You perked up, shaking your head. “They can stay, it’s not that important-”

“I’d rather they didn’t.” His stare shot through your body. It was hard but yet filled with increasing lust. All you did was walk in the room. 

The teens walked past you, shooting apologizing looks. Hobie’s face was amused, giving a reassuring pat on the back before whispering in your ear. “Don’t rough ‘im up too much.”

Miguel called you to his platform. You made your way across, trying to devise a quick game plan as your current one backfired. You placed yourself on the other side to create as much distance as possible. You heard him command Lyla to lock the lab so no one could get in. You took a deep breath to stabilize your beating heart. 

“Why are you over there?”

You shot him a glare, “You know why.”

“Do I?” Miguel tilted his head in question. A rumbling chuckle filled your body when you tsked. He stood on the other end, not making any moves to get closer. Yet his eyes were trailing down your covered body. Picturing himself peeling every layer off of you. “I like your outfit today.”

You saw him take one step closer and you had to straighten yourself. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Another step and you cleared your throat. You could see yourself being bent over that console if the conversation kept up like this. 

“Look, we really need to talk about this symbiote.” Miguel hummed, partially listening. As he took another step, you pressed yourself back against the console. Realizing you couldn’t get further back, you raised a harsh pointer finger towards him. “Miguel.”

“I’m listening, preciosa.” He paused, that same look of hunger in his eyes. 

“Are you? Do you see yourself right now?” You watched him take another step. 

Miguel snorted, “Do you see yourself right now? You’re so sexy. I can’t believe I married you.” 

He closed the gap, one hand on the console behind you. You placed your hands on his chest. At first, it was to try to create some distance, but the hardened muscle under your palms made you reconsider. Those same pectorals you've always felt and pressed up against. Your hands had a mind of their own, running along them. The corner of Miguel’s lips curled up in amusement. 

“You still wanna talk?” He picked you up and placed you on the console. His other hand placed against your lower back, pressing your entire body against his chest. Your resolve was dwindling as he gazed at you. “Or do you want to be bred?”

That’s how you ended up the way you were now. Clothes removed, thrown who knows where in his lab. Legs spread while his gigantic finger pumped into and out of you. Miguel’s symbiote form took over, drooling while watching you take him in easily. You whined while clutching his arm. Small sopping sounds fill your ears. 

A gasp escaped your lips when a second digit entered you. Your back arching at the beautiful friction. How his fingers knew where to touch inside. A satisfied growl erupted from Miguel, mouth wide as his tongue glided across your pleasure-fixed face. 

“Pretty thing. So obedient…” His thumb pressed against your clit. Your nails dug into his sticky skin at the additional sensation. Not wanting him to stop for a second as that familiar burning feeling started to rise. It pooled in your stomach before spreading up and over your body. Miguel didn’t care when you screamed for him in his lab, letting all the spiders know he was pleasing his partner. 

You panted, leaning back a little on the console when his fingers were gone. The familiar sight of his large cock came into view, ready to go in. A rush of clarity filled your mind as you stopped him. He gave you a look in question.

“Lemme be on top.”

Miguel grinned, eyes lighting up with intrigue. “Oh? Pretty little thing wants to bounce?” 

Before you could nod in confirmation, he sat down. Back pressed along the console. Goosebumps formed, feeling the cool steel amongst your feet. You licked your lips, watching your partner observe you. Dark blue cock aching to be inside. You hovered over him, stabilizing yourself by touching his shoulders. Before sinking down. 

Each time Miguel’s cock entered you, it was always as if it was the first time. After a couple of thrusts, You always lost your ability to think straight. Only taking what Miguel gave you. This time was going to be different. 

A moan escaped you, getting used to the feeling before raising your hips again. Before slamming back down on him. His eyes lowered at the sight of his partner fucking yourself on his shaft. Even though Miguel took over most of the time during sex, You had your moments of being the one to make him quiver under your touch. While fucking the symbiote, it was still affected by things that made regular Miguel whine. So you went slow, sliding up and down at an antagonizing pace. Even for you. But you needed to get your point across. Miguel’s hands hovered by your hips, ready to have you pick up the pace. Only for you to use one hand to grip his thick throat. 

His eyes went wide at the sudden action, your tiny hand doing your best to choke him out. “Pretty thing wants to get rough?”

“You like it rough.” You quipped back, still rolling your hips on him. Miguel growled at the sensation before latching his hand on his arm.

“We do.”

It happened in an instant, the symbiote tendrils curling around the lower half of your arm, coating it the signature blue. You felt stronger. Enough to grip his neck tighter. You also picked up the pace, bouncing in a way to drive him crazy. If you could see Miguel’s face, you knew his eyes would be rolled back, while his hips thrusted up in unison with your bounces. 

“L-Let me…speak to him…”

“You are.” The symbiote’s chest heaved, almost succumbing to the intoxicating sensation. 

You shook your head, a whimper coming out as you hit a spot that was too good. “No. I wanna…see him…” Miguel’s face appeared, pleasure permeating his dazed face. If there were any other moment, you wouldn’t stop, help him chase his fucked out high. But not right now. You slowed down, earning a cry from Miguel. 

“N-No. Don’t stop, mi amor.” 

“Listen to me first…” Your pace was torture as you sunk down enough to provide pleasure still. In this position, Miguel was susceptible to agree to anything as long as he made sure he released inside you. “We’re gonna have a conversation about this thing.”

“Okay, okay. We will. Now let’s-” A strangled moan escaped him when you squeezed his neck.

“I’m serious, Miguel. If we end up like this again without talking, you’re not coming back home.” You stared right into his eyes, serious while clouded with pleasure. Miguel stared right back, taking in that you meant every word. You didn’t like it had to come to this, but it would put you at ease if you two talked about it. 

He nodded, taking your words to heart. “Okay.”

With that, your pace picked up again. You bounced on his cock with vigor, hand removed from his throat and back to his shoulders. Miguel’s hands were on your hips as he fucked up into you to meet your own. Both were extraordinarily loud in the lab. Neither cared as they went to chase the high together. A mix of grunts and moans spread amongst the atmosphere. 

Then, a comfortable silence took its place.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Mechanic Wukong and Street Artist Macaque with a poly reader

Artists: pedrinho_lmk (left) and @scotchy-pie-art (right)

Mechanic Sun Wukong

Originally met you when your car broke down for seemingly no reason on your way to work and called a tow company that took your car into his shop. Wukong’s always been a morning person, even though he loves sleeping in, so he’s working down his list of chores with a white tank top covered in spots of grease and oil.

Wukong usually has his hair pulled back and will ask you to tie his fluffy ginger hair back so it doesn’t get caught in any car parts or dirty from oil. Loudly purrs when you comb through his mane, carefully detangling knots and cleaning any bits of dirt or grit.

Whenever you have a day off to stop by the shop he’ll purposely wipe off anything on his face with his tank top which shows bits of his bare stomach. He’ll use any and every excuse to take off his shirt, saying it’s too hot out or he doesn’t want to ruin his clothing which is already covered in oil and grease.

Wukong’s very strong already from training but his job only enhances that because cars are a couple of tons and he has a habit of sticking part of his tongue out when he’s focused which makes your mind wander.

A good part about your mate being a mechanic in addition to being the great sage is that with his powers he can find the issue with the vehicle quickly with the help of his eyes of truth which helps him end the day early a lot of the time and lets him get back to you earlier than usual.

You both love it when he throws and catches you in the air or carries you in an absurd but secure position partially to show off to others and you. You love it because it gives you butterflies and you’re never scared he’s going to drop you because he cares so much for you and he’s not that much of an airhead when it comes to you.

He's a great multitasker cause he can use his tail which comes in hand for both working and at home ;) Unfortunately, it is usually used for the various colors of paint splattered on a car, sometimes in a design or pattern, while his main focus is the engine or undercarriage.

Street Artist Macaque

Speaking of paint, Macaque is a well-known street artist who only leaves a special signature of his and so because of that he doesn’t have to worry about being recognized or harassed by police. All of his work is done with passion and originality, very rarely his art is on private property or people’s belongings and some are inspired by things he’s seen or people that are interesting to him (i.e. you).

However, a fair amount of his work is purposely painted on cars because he knows Wukong’s probably going to be the one to deal with it and adores the groans of agony from his frenemy. You’re kind of disappointed at his smug grin whenever Wukong throws a wrench or whatever is in reach of him at your boyfriend who partially deserves it and shouts an apology to the mechanic who greets you kindly.

He first met you when he was spray painting a unique design about a recent protest to raise awareness in his special way on a sidewall of a coffee shop when you walked out to take out the trash and saw him floating mid-spray as your eyes met his golden ones. You turned your head to call for your manager but got silenced by Macaque’s hand covering your mouth and gave him 2 minutes to explain, long story short you both intrigued each other and started to have dates discussing both of your jobs. Mainly he doesn’t solely rely on his work as an artist but also as a performer and combat instructor.

He does adore it when you sneak out with him to help with his art or to provide company as he paints although he’d much prefer you get a healthy amount of sleep each night even if he feels a bit lonely without you. Your health is a priority to him but if it’s during the day and in a more discreet place whether alleyway or back of the building he’ll bring you with him, often taking breaks to eat lunch while you both talk about certain aspects of that design that could be improved or highlighted.

You’re well aware of his artistic gifts because of the looks he gives you before you leave or anytime you’re near a work of his art and usually the crowd surrounding the artwork gives it away as well. It’s never expressed obviously that it’s you in the piece of art because if it was then you might be questioned about the identity of the rogue artist who is secretly your boyfriend and Macaque wouldn’t want that ever. So a lot of them have the symbolism of you and what he loves about you, some of them having somewhat clear images of your face if you squint and those are personally his favorites.

He assures you he’s very good at remaining hidden when doing his “illegal” street art because of his advanced hearing shadow powers so with both it’s very easy to make a quick escape if he hears the police or sees something that’d get him caught. It also comes in handy when you’re out with him if he’s ever in danger or if someone attacks since it means he can get you out of there quickly. This goes the same for if you run into trouble with him at night since you have self-defense and your boyfriend has helped by giving you tips on how to improve. He’s going to prioritize you if anything happens despite any claims from you and he won’t let anything hurt you regardless if it’s to get back at him or not.

Mechanic Sun Wukong + Street Artist Macaque (poly)

Surprise surprise you met both of them when they were trying to spite one another which as one could guess is when Macaque was trying to get back at Wukong so he spray-painted your car with a crude design and so you had to forget heading to work. That led you to Wukong’s repair shop and saw the very annoyed look on his face when he saw the trouble you were facing, especially since you both found the other very attractive eventually when he was able to remove the paint you both exchanged numbers. He threw out some obvious flirts about how beautiful you were and you couldn’t ignore how he was shirtless surely because of how hot it was showing off how toned and gorgeous he was.

Macaque however followed his “victim” through their shadow and relished in the annoyance he saw he gave the king, turning to see the no-doubt pain on his victim’s face only to see your divine face twisted in a frown and now regretting defacing your car. On the one hand, he was glad he met you but on the other, he already ruined your day and you seemed like a nice person. The fact that Wukong flirted with you only made him annoyed and he already wanted to know you more (after he apologized first of course), spiting him by becoming closer to you was a bonus now since he’d already planned to ask you out and now he had the perfect introduction planned. Shortly after you got out of work, he popped up beside your car and apologized in his own special way, flirting with you with a smirk proudly on his face and genuinely apologizing before getting your number.

Both of them ended up finding out they were attempting to date you and only tried to one-up each other in terms of winning your heart, making it a bit too obvious that you were the center of their affections and trying to make help understand you loved them both. You were able to get them both inside your apartment and sit them down to say that you loved them both dearly and couldn’t choose, all of you agreeing to a polyamorous relationship and ending the night in cuddles.

In your free time, you can often find both of your boyfriends playing their silly game of back and forth which leads to a repeated war of the whole thing. Meanwhile, all you want is to just be cuddled and not pay for excess repairs if it’s your car even with your boyfriend doing it free of cost. It takes little to convince them to give up their squabbles and give each of them kisses or any kind of affection and they’ll melt into your hands. Both of them will protect you from any harm (whether it’s from police from Mac’s illegal art or enemies who want to use you to get to Wukong) and it’s one of the few things there’s never any arguing on, focusing on your safety and taking care of the threat while the other makes sure you’re alright or hidden.

[andillneverbethesame]

hey! Could you write anything with James Potter based off the black dog by Taylor? This song has been killing me for the last weeks and I love your writing!! If not that’s okay! Have a nice day 🤗🤗

THE BLACK DOG

❥ james potter x reader

❥ warnings: cheating, smut...

❥word count: 2k

❥ a/n: i love this song sm

my ts masterlists pt 1 pt 2

"where were you?" you asked him as soon as he got home. it was two in the morning, three hours past the time he promised to come back.

he doesn't evn bother to give you a "hello" kiss on the top of your head like he used to. he doesn't even look at you. it's been like this for a while now.

"at the black dog. with the boys," he said. short answer. like always.

you knew he was at the black dog. he always forgot to turn his location off. but you also share yours with all of 'the boys': sirius black, remus lupin and peter pettigrew and you knew very well they weren't at the black dog.

so if he wasn't with them, who was he with?

the answer is a pretty ginger girl with green eyes who used to go to the same school with you and james.

lily evans.

she was someone you've always felt insecure of because of her past with james. the two of them dated for about a year and broke up just about half a year before you and james started going out.

he always reassured you and even lily told you there's nothing but friendship between them and you believed them.

you wouldn't believe them now.

"interesting," you mumbled, trying your best not to start shouting at him.

"what?" he stopped on his way to the bathroom and turned around to face you.

you shook your head and laid your head on the pillow.

james got into your shared bed about half an hour later. you could hear him sigh a couple of times and also pace around your bathroom before he decided to go and lie down with his back facing you.

"goodnight, i love you," you whispered loud enough for him to hear but. . .

he said nothing back.

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

when you and james broke up, a few weeks later, it felt like the end of the world.

this break up wasn't as dramatic as in all the movies and books. james came home from merlin knows where and said, "i can't do this anymore."

you knew what he meant. he couldn't continue pretending you two were going to be fine, he even stopped calling a lunatic whenever you brought lily up. he couldn't continue coming back home, wishing someone else was waiting for him and then pretending it's her lying next to him in bed. he couldn't continue pretending that you're both not dying inside.

when james told you that, you only nodded, whispering, "okay". there was nothing left to say and nothing left to do. all was already said and done. you were exhausted fighting for the both of you. the ship was sinking and you were going down with it.

james seemed to be surprised when you didn't start yelling at him or crying and begging him to stay. you watched his confusion. he looked as if he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"alright, then." he went upstairs and packed his things. well, not really, he was already packed. you saw his black bag stuffed with his clothes under your bed about a week ago and decided not to wonder how long it was there.

when he came back down, he saw you had not moved from the spot on your sofa.

"okay, um, well. . ." he paused. "i'm going."

you nodded, your face emotionless as you stared at the wall, not sparing him a glance.

you heard him place something on the kitchen table and judging by the sound, you figured out it was his keys to this flat.

"i'm sorry, it ended like this. i wish i could change things, but i can't. i'm really sorry." he waited for your reply, but you couldn't bring yourself to, scared you'll break down. he didn't deserve to see you cry, not anymore. it surprised you that for the first time, he apologized and sounded genuine, making the situation a thousand times harder for you.

his steps faded into the hallway. the door opened, and then closed. and after that, you finally allowed yourself to let it out.

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

despite the fact this heartbreak and the break up in general wasn't unexpected and your heart has been shattered for the past few months, you couldn't bring yourself to move on, or at least try to, and the only thing you did was grieving.

you didn't think it was fair. you tried your best to save the relationship, killing yourself in the process and yet, james was the only one leaving unscathed, his heart untouched as if the love you two once shared meant nothing to him.

you could imagine him and lily doing the thing you two used to do, too. you'd bet all your money they went out to dinner every other night, probably to black dog, or they'd have a night in with all their friends.

speaking of friends, remus was the one who checked up on you the most. he showed up at your flat at least three times a week with a different big chocolate bar every time and you two would spend time talking. you opened to remus about a lot of things, but you doubted you would ever open up up the way you did to james.

"he accidentally called lily by your name, the other day." he told you one thursday evening.

"´huh? did he. . ."

"yeah. . . me, james and sirius were out and passed a floral shop. james stopped and said, "would you wait for me, lads? i gotta buy some flowers for y/n." he didn't even realise he misspoke. and then, he came out with a bouquet of peonies even though lily told him she likes daffodils."

you almost choke on your chocolate when you heard he bought peonies. they were yours favourite.

"yeah. i told him and he just nervously laughed and went back for daffodils. . . by the way he still didn't tell his parents you two aren't together anymore so whenever mia calls and asks about you, james straight up lies to her."

you frowned at the memories of his parents. you loved them and you were going to miss them so much.

"does lily know?" you asked. not that it was any of your business. you were just curious.

"yeah. it upsets her, but she doesn't really say anything about it." he paused and sadly smiled at you. "we really miss you around, y/n. even though we all like lily, everyone is pissed at james for hurting you. even sirius. he'd come to visit too, but he's afraid james could find out."

"i get he's afraid, but james hasn't got a saying in who sirius hangs out with. just as i hadn't got a saying in who james shags," you joked. but remus didn't find that funny. "tell sirius and peter i miss them too. and that they can come around anytime they want."

"will do."

silence prevailed between you two. but it wasn't awkward. it was actually pretty comfortable.

"y/n?" remus broke it.

"yeah?"

"you'll be okay, right?"

you nodded, although if you were honest, you weren't really sure.

"i will be. i have to be."

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

in that same very moment, about five miles south, in lily evans's flat, was a couple in a heated moment.

the girl's bright red lipstick was all over his face and neck, all their clothes were already long forgotten on the cold bathroom floor as lily turned on the shower, the hot drops soaking up their bodies immediately.

james's hands traveled from lily's face to her chest, then waist, and then her ass and thighs. she whimpered into his mouth and he swallowed it like a starved man.

and just then, a memory hit him hard. this has happened before. not with lily, but with you.

as james pretended not to be lost in his head while pleasuring lily with his fingers and lips, he could not stop thinking about you.

what the fuck is wrong with you? he asked himself. lily moaned his name out loud and dugged her nails into his skin. you barely think of her for whole two weeks and now you can't get her out of your mind? why now?

lily's body was shaking in the same way yours was, her head was thrown back and her mouth was wide opened with her eyes closed shut. james's mind betrayed him. he couldn't stop wishing this was you.

did you hate him? he wondered. you had to. he hated himself in that moment for what he did to you.

he wondered how you were doing. he knew remus came to visit you quite often but he never felt brave enough to ask him about you.

"james!" lily screamed as her eyes rolled back to the back of her head, snapping the boy out of his thoughts as she let her body fall into his arms.

"wow," she breathed out after a moment of silence. she glanced at james and asked, poiting at his cock, "do you want me to—"

"no," he cut her off, smiling nervously. "that's okay."

he got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist before leaving the bathroom completely, leaving lily standing there utterly confused.

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

six weeks since james walked out of that door and it felt like yesterday. you still missed him the same. you still hoped that he would realize his mistake and come back crawling to you, begging for your forgivness. you still missed him even though him being around was mentally draining.

you felt him everywhere in this flat. after all, you chose it together. he was everywhere. when you came home, even when you left it. you felt him in your bed and behind you in the bathroom. you felt him in your heart, soul and bones and you couldn't get him out.

"i wanna sell this flat," you told remus. "everything reminds me of james way too much. i can't do this."

"i understand. i hard alice and frank longbottom are looking for a flat. maybe you could buy alice's. do you want her number?"

"yeah, sure."

just as you were about to call alice, your phone started ringing and his picture appeared on the screen with the name "jamie ♡". you realized you still didn't change his name.

remus saw the shocked expression on your face. "what's wrong?"

ignoring him. you took a deep breath and tapped the light green button.

"hi." you heard him say, sounding almost relieved that you didn't hang up.

"hi."

"i'm sorry," he blurted out.

you sighed. "you already said that."

"i know but i really mean it. i'm sorry for how i treated you. i'm sorry that i was unfaithful, i'm sorry i called you a lunatic when you brought lily up, even though you were completely right about everything. i'm sorry for how cold, distant and rude i was for the last months of our relationship. you didn't deserve any of it. and i'm sorry."

wow. you waited for him to say that for so long.

"i-" you were speechless. "thank you, james, for your apology, i appreciate it. you are right, i didn't deserve any of it. not when i left no stone unturned while you didn't even lift a finger." he stayed quiet, knowing well you were right. "look, james, i'll forget you one day. i'll forget all of it, all of the lies and the pain. but i could never forgive you. what you did was humiliating and cruel. i never felt more unloved and worthless. i'll never forgive you for making me feel like that about myself."

"i'm really sorry," you heard him whisper.

"right now, i could say that i wish you all the best and that i hope you and lily will live happily ever after. but i'm not a liar, not like you. i really hope it's shitty wherever you are. i really hope it's shitty in the black dog.

[mochinomnoms]

Hi! I saw your hanahaki flower event and got interested by it. I was wondering if you can do prompt #18 with azul and a gender neutral reader please?

azul ashengrotto x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, slight angst, miscommunication [wc} – 4,442 prompt 18: “Is this normal here?” “Only for the emotionally unavailable folk.” “Ah, so it is.” note - ending is a bit weak cause it got a bit long. anyways i love my octomer still firmly believe azul deserves to get bitches and eat good food a floral inconvenience

Lavender: while best known for its herbal properties, lavender can also symbolize devotion to a person. You should give lavender to a person you see as pure and virtuous. 

You stared at the array of purple colored drinks, sweets, and other treats laid out on the table in front of you. 

To your left, several plates of candied lavender, a slice of honey lavender cake, and a grape lavender sorbet begged for your attention. On your right, an iced lavender vanilla latte, lavender lemonade, and a lavender spritzer looked ideal to quench your thirst. In the middle, directly in front of you, was the latest dish you were asked to taste test. 

A beautiful Swiss chard, candied beet and goat cheese salad tossed in a honey-lavender dressing made your mouth water as the Mostro Lounge manager himself sat at his desk, watching you on the two-seater couch.  

“Well? Go on. I made them all myself.” Azul gestured to the salad with a smug smirk, clearly pleased at your excitement. “Time is of the essence, the spring menu is due to release next week.”

 “Oh! Yeah, right.” 

You picked up a fork and pierced a beet and chard, generously covered in the dressing and goat cheese. Bringing the food up to your mouth, Azul raised his brows tentatively, watching as you opened wide, and just before you took a bite—

“Are you sure Jade didn’t put anything in this—”

“I promise, I made this all myself.”

“Okay.” You opened your mouth and raised your fork again…before bringing it down again. 

“You sure—”

“Positive! Just. Eat. It.” Azul sighed exasperatedly. “I beg—and I don’t beg.”

“Okay! Okay, okay, okay.” You giggled, finally taking a bite of the salad. 

A burst of sweet, woodsy and fresh flavor covered your tongue. Pleasant, succulent, and slightly sticky, you hummed in delight at the taste of the salad and dressing. You smiled at Azul, who rested his chin on his clasped hands. You couldn’t see his mouth from behind his hands, but you think he was smiling back at you. 

“Azul! This tastes wonderful! Even better than the candies and tarts, oh my gosh!” You gushed as you took another bite of the salad, oblivious to the soft, periwinkle blush on the octomer’s cheeks. 

“Try it with the lemonade, it pairs well.”

Nodding your head, you reached over to take a sip of the drink, a sprig of lavender embellishing the top. Humming again from the pleasant tang of the lemon and sweetness of the flower, you beamed at Azul. 

“You’re so right! And with all the lavender as garnishes, it’s definitely screaming springtime!” 

Whipping out your phone, you started to text, talking as you did. “It’s definitely gonna be a hit on Magicam, I bet I can get Cater to come and—”

“No! Uh,” Azul raised his voice, startling you, before clearing his throat and continuing, “you need to try the rest first!”

“Oh, for sure, but Cater can probably give you free advertising or something—”

In a small panic, seeing the chattery ginger’s profile and your thumb hovering over the DM button, Azul quickly rushed to you. He reached over to swipe the phone out of your hands while simultaneously shoving a spoonful of the grape lavender sorbet. 

“Nonsense! I can handle my own advertising!” Azul chuckled nervously, “Now tell me, how does that one taste? Refreshing, yes?”

You choked on cold sweetness, a brief knock at the door drawing both of your attention as the door opened before you could respond. 

Jade entered the Azul’s office, pausing at the scene before him. Azul hovering, practically on top, of you with a silver spoon shoved into your mouth. Jade blinked once before giving you both a small smile, tilting his head. 

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to intrude on such a scene, I’ll come back later—”

“Don’t imply anything, Jade!” Azul briskly added some distance between you two, smoothing his ruffled suit. 

You on the other hand, spoon now hanging freely from your mouth, gave Jade a wave and gave him a muffled, “Hi Jade, the sorbets good.”

Jade chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Is it? How wonderful, Azul’s been working particularly hard to make sure everything was to your liking—”

Azul cleared his throat, giving Jade a less than amused glare.

“What is it, Jade?” He sighed, adjusting his glasses. “You know I was to not be interrupted for the next hour.”

Jade bowed his head, still smiling as he apologized. 

“Pardon my interruption, but it has actually been an hour and a half, and your next appointment is here.” 

“What?” Azul looked at the wall clock with a confused expression, groaning as he saw the minute mark was indeed showing it was half past 3. 

“Let my appointment know that I will be with them shortly, my dear?” Azul gave you an apologetic smile, bringing out a handkerchief from his vest and offering it to you. 

“Here, I’m sorry to cut our time so abruptly. You still owe me your commentary on the free dishes, so make sure to leave your Saturday afternoon open.”

Rolling your eyes, you wiped your lips as you snarkily replied, “I owe you? Didn’t you ask me for my input on the dishes?” 

“The free dishes, yes. Does 5 pm sound good?”

You hummed in affirmation, handing back the lilac fabric which Azul accepted. A sound of surprise left you as Azul dabbed the corner of your mouth, where a bit of the sorbet still remained. 

The octomer wasn’t known for casual touches, rather he seemed adverse to them. It surprised you how easily those brush of hands and bodies leaning closer to each other came despite this. You suppose it just came naturally after months of study ‘dates’, shared lounge shifts, and late night talks.  

Avoiding eye contact, Azul tenderly grabbed your hand and placed the handkerchief back in your hand. His hands clasped around your own, making your fingers grasp the fabric before pushing it to your chest. 

“Keep it for now, it’s dirty anyways.” Azul muttered, snatching his hands back as if you’d burned him. “You can return it cleaned this weekend.” 

Nodding your head, you chose to ignore the sudden shift in mood, though it hurt your chest. Instead, you gave Azul a warm smile as he turned his back to you as he cleaned.

“Mkay…I’ll see you later, Azul. Byeee~” You wagged your fingers to the still turned Azul, though you could see the tips of his ears turn light purple. Your eyes stayed on his form until Jade closed the door, in which you followed the teal-haired man out of the VIP halls to the rest of the lounge. 

Following Jade through the corridors, you mused out loud, “I wonder if he knows…”

“Knows what, Prefect?”

You jumped slightly, startled as you remembered that you weren’t alone.’

“Fuck! I forgot you were here, you’re so quiet Jade, what the hell?”

Jade chuckled, looking down at you as he slowed his pace to walk side by side. “I apologize, but I was simply asking for clarification, who knows what?”

It took you a moment to process that you’d been speaking out loud, exclaiming, “Oh! Sorry I was just wondering if Azul knew that lavender’s my favorite flower. Yaknow, cause of all the lavender flavored stuff…”

You shrugged, aware of the mischievous glimmer in the golden eye studying your form. 

“Probably not though, it’s a popular spring flavor. Not gonna complain about a coincidence though!” 

Jade hummed, “Yes, a very pleasant coincidence.”

The rest of the walk was pleasant and relatively quiet as you filled the silence by humming a tune Azul had taught you for musicology. You arrived shortly to the lounge, waving at Floyd through the kitchen door window. Floyd waved enthusiastically back, ladle in hand. 

Before you could walk off to the exit, Jade grabbed your shoulder, leaning down to ask, “Prefect, would you like to meet me in the library? My shift will end soon, and I’ll be studying for a botany exam. I’d enjoy the company.”

You shrugged and nodded. “Sure, Cater’s gonna meet me and drop off Grim there in a bit anyways.”

“Wonderful, I’ll see you shortly!” Jade waved you off, turning back to the host stand as you left the lounge to the Octavinelle entrance. 

A pass through the mirror and a short walk, you soon found yourself at the entrance to the library. There you saw the familiar head of ginger cradling a sleeping Grim in his arms!

“Cater!” you whisper shouted, grinning and waving your hand excitedly. 

“Hey babes!” Cater greeted you, giving you a soft smile and wink. “How’d the date go? Gimme all the deets!”

You scoffed, scratching between Grim’s ears as the little familiar sleepily mumbled, “Wasn’t a date, I was taste testing for Azul.”

“Uh-huh, just a private taste-testing between you and the Octavinelle housewarden?” Cater cooed, handing you Grim. “Then why’d you have me take Grimmy and get him all stuffed and tuckered out at the unbirthday party, hmm?” 

“He said he made it specifically for me to taste! Grim would’ve eaten it all otherwise…” you pouted, squinting at Cater as he shrugged and gave you a cheeky grin. 

“Whatever you say babe, but like, Azul is super infamously known to never give out gifts without expecting something in return.”

“He is getting something!” You huffed as the two of you entered into the library, following your upperclassman as he plucked books for your alchemy class and he for potion making. 

“He’s getting my valuable input before announcing his spring menu!”

Cater gave you another wink before drawling, “Sureeeee, whatevs you say babe! Just don't be surprised by the wedding bells in the near future, I better be the man of honor!”

You two bickered for a bit longer, you more so than Cater, who was content teasing you. Once you both had grabbed the materials needed for class, you searched for a table to get settled before Grim eventually woke back up and begged to get dinner. 

 A familiar shade of teal caught your eye as you remembered Jade’s invitation to study. 

“Ah! I forgot I was gonna meet Jade and study with him!” You waved at Cater, who followed suite, walking over to the eelmer. “Text me later, I’ll try and see if I can’t convince Azul to let you get exclusive pics of the spring menu!”

“Kayyyy, I’m sure you’ll convince your little boyfriend easily enough with a few smooches.” Adding insult to injury, Cater blew you a kiss. “Just pucker them up and boys will melt like putty, trust me I know!”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored your friend’s giggles in favor of greeting Jade with a quiet hello. 

“Hey Jade, how’s the studying going?”

Yellow and olive eyes met your own as Jade smiled back, nodding his head politely. “Well. I finished my own work a while ago, so I’ve been browsing some journals on magical flora and diseases.”

Jade gestured to the array of books on the table. Sure enough, the books were labeled as magical pharmaceuticals and botany. You settled Grim on one of the spare chairs and placed your own books on a spare spot on the table. As Jade read a page on the medical benefits of a tentacle looking mushroom, you peered curiously at the other books. 

You read the page of one of the books Jade had out, labeled ‘hanahaki’. 

“What’s this?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Jade gave you a soft smile, though his eyes glimmered with mischief. 

“That. I was simply researching it as a favor for a friend.”

“A favor? From you? Riiight.”

Jade pouted, giving you a sad look. “Why do you doubt my kind-hearted nature?” He continued giving you faux sniffles and wiping the corner of his eyes. When you first started hanging around him and his brother, it took you a while to figure out that Jade liked to tease your soft-hearted nature. He said it was to toughen you up for life in the cold, merciless waters under the sea that you’d eventually call home.

Whatever that means.  

“Am I not allowed to simply do something out of the kindness of my heart?”

You stuck your tongue out before replying, “Are you doing this out of the ‘kindness’ of your heart, or cause you want something out of it?”

“Hmm, both?”

Jade winked as you stifled a giggle. 

“Sure, both are good…who’s it for anyways?”

Jade held a finger up to his mouth. A secret that he was not privy to share. Despite you leaning in with an expectant look, Jade remained silent, giving you a closed eye smile. Shrugging you looked at the page the book was open to. 

“Flower sickness?”

“Yes, a gift from the Flower Bride, it causes the afflicted’s romantic feelings to physically manifest into their beloved’s favorite flora. Typically through flu-like symptoms.”

You winced as you reached up to rub your throat. “Like, coughing up roses? Sounds like a pain.”

“It can be, most find it inconvenient, as it tends to trouble those that repress their feelings. Especially those that would rather deny or remain oblivious to them.”

“Is it normal here?” 

Jade pursed his lips, looking as if he was in deep thought before responding, “Only for the emotionally unavailable sort.”

Snapping a finger at him you cheekily replied, “So it is then?”

The two of you shared a laugh before resuming your browsing, Jade now leaning over to read the article with you, thumbing the pages as you read out loud.

“Most recognized symptoms include coughing petals, flowers, and even bouquets in the occurrence of strong feelings. However, sneezing the previously mentioned symptoms is also common.”

“Ah, here.” Jade slid his finger along the paragraph below. “More severe cases can include the patient sprouting flora from their pores, ears, and hair follicles. How interesting.”

You clicked your tongue. “Sounds annoying, ooh wait! ‘Common Flora’!”

Listing off the flowers from the second page, you were blissfully unaware of the entertained expression on the twin’s face. 

“Let’s see, roses, makes sense. Orchids, gardenias, oh! Even lavenderrrrrrr…“

 I was just wondering if Azul knew that lavender’s my favorite flower.

Azul is super infamously known to never give out gifts without expecting something in return.

I made them all myself.

You drew out the last syllable, eyes hyper focused on the word printed before you as you processed your thoughts like a factory conveyor belt. Slowly turning your head to stare at the teal-haired man next to you, Jade simply kept his small, polite smile as he stared right back. 

“...Jade?” You tilted your head. 

“Prefect?” Jade did the same. 

“Where’s Azul been getting all the lavender?”

“Oh, well,” Jade paused, sifting through the book in favor of letting you stew in suspense. “A few weeks ago he started keeping large bouquets of them all over his room and office, though the latter were used for the dishes he made you.”

“You mean the ones for the new menu?” Maybe you were misinterpreting the whole thing. Yeah, no Azul wouldn’t waste a bunch of lounge supplies on you. Lavender is a popular spring flavor, and your a good friend that’s willing to give him the time of day to test his dishes out. Of course, you’re just being silly—

“New menu? You must be mistaken, we aren’t releasing a new menu anytime soon.” Jade rested his head on his palm, now giving you a rare grin. 

“He was quite stressed making the dishes to your liking, seeing as it’s quite a common octomer courting tact—oh!”

Jade covered his mouth in shock, feigning embarrassment as he continued, “I’m afraid I’ve said too much, you’ll keep that last bit between us, won’t you?” 

“…You’re an ass, you know that?”

“I’m aware, what are you going to do about it? I just ask that you’re gentle with me.”

Everyone within a 1-mile radius could hear your exhausted sigh of annoyance.

The soft glow of the aquarium walls under the bookshelves brought about an ethereal glow to the VIP Room. A soft, soothing blue glow that did very little to actually sooth your nerves. It paired well with the lavender colored walls. 

Speaking of lavender, a warm teapot of lavender Earl Grey was settled on the coffee table, along with containers of sugar and milk. To the right was a plate of iced lavender cookies, small purple buds garnishing the tops of the cookies. 

“Cookies, huh? I thought you were more of a cooker than baker, Azul?” 

Azul, who was writing down your feedback from the baked brie with lavender honey that you’d just had, hummed in response. 

“Yes my dear, I had Trey working for me after the last Camp Vargas, though he was kind enough to leave me a few handwritten recipes in exchange for ending his week-long employment with me early.” Azul explained, looking rather satisfied with himself. 

“I experimented with one of the recipes and was able to come up with the cookies before you.” His eyes met yours as he smirked and smugly asked, “They’re to your liking, yes? I made them with your sweet tooth in mind.”

There it was, Azul made these for you. Azul Ashengrotto, who didn’t give so easily without a cost, made them specifically for you in mind, though it seemed that that same train of thought didn’t process in his head. Based on his self-satisfied smirk, and the notes he was taking, Azul was happy that the apparent courting ritual was going well. 

“Yeah! I like them a lot, they go well with the tea. Um—” You paused, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before continuing with the plan you and Cater came up. 

“Did you make the tea blend for me too? It tastes wonderful, I’d expect nothing less!”

Azul brightened, delighted at your attention and praise, and began to “subtly” brag, “Yes! Normally Jade makes the tea blends for the Lounge, but I personally selected this specific variety to pair well with the lavender.”

A fondness grew in your heart as you listened, not really processing though, to Azul describe the subtle differences between his tea blend and traditional ones.

“This specific blend would be most reminiscent of Early Grey Crème, which isn’t as widely known, but I thought would be better for you as it’s smoother.”

“Really?” You gasped, feigning innocence as you asked, “And you made it all yourself? You’re amazing, Azul!”

With a closed-eye smirk, Azul adjusted his glasses and nodded. “Yes, well with all my family’s experience in the food industry, it’s to be expected. But do continue to sing praises my dear, it’s much appreciated.”

You giggled, tilting your head as Azul resumed his note taking, it was no doubt he was recording your reactions and storing them for future use. The real question was whether to figure out the best way to bribe you with the promise of your favorite foods, or to ensure that his future beloved would have their own beloved treats when with him.

“It’s appreciate that you made this all for me in mind…which makes me think…Azul?”

“Yes?’

Azul was now focused on writing rather than on you. Taking another deep breath, you continued. 

“Your cooking for me reminds me of a common saying back home…that a way to one’s heart is through their stomach.”

Azul froze, the soft scratching of his fishbone pen suddenly silenced, from the corner of your eye, you could see Azul’s eyes widen and face go blank. 

“Is that something said here too?”

“It’s not a completely foreign phrase to me, so I’d say so.”

You hummed, plucking one of the iced cookies from the tray, sauntering over to the silver-haired man. Azul looked up at you, leaned back into his plush chair, lacing his fingers together as he waited for you to continue. 

“I bet, with your mother owning a restaurant and everything…though it has me thinking…”

Azul raised a brow as you nibbled on the cookie, while you allowed him to stew in suspense for a few seconds.

“You’ve never actually cooked at the lounge, have you? Sure you’ve tested out some recipes, making sure they come out to your satisfaction…but it’s always someone else doing the cooking for the customers.”

Taking a seat on the edge of the desk, glowing baby blue eyes met your own, making you wonder if his name was a deliberate choice or a coincidence.

“Yes…” Azul answered slowly, hesitantly really, as he tried to figure out your angle. “I’m a very busy person, and I haven’t got all day-”

“And yet, you cooked for me.”

Azul shut his mouth at that, normally plush lips thinning as his fair cheeks softly turned periwinkle. 

“Not only that, but you cooked for me using my favorite flower…tell me, my dear,” He audibly choked at the nickname, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. “Just how did you know I love lavender?”

You leaned down, Azul’s eyes widening as the distance between you two becoming smaller. Sudden close contact grew a burning embarrassment in Azul, who leaned further into his chair until he no longer could. There was a visible panic in his eyes, which made you feel a bit bad for putting him in such a situation. 

Azul cleared his throat, composing himself and saving face as he looked at you with a stony expression. “I…have my sources.”

That wasn’t good, you didn’t need the octomer shutting you out to avoid even the slightest humiliation at the hands of a crush. 

“Sources? Like what? Sam? The botanical gardens?” You looked off to the side, noticing a vase with a few stems of lavender. “Like hanahaki?”

A screech accompanied Azul as he abruptly stood, pushing back the chair and stared at you with a frigid glare, lips thin and soft eyes now hardened. 

“I don’t appreciate this joke of yours. If you want to our time together making fun of me, I suggest we end it here.” 

Panic turned your blood ice cold as you tripped over your feet, now chasing Azul as he went for the door. 

“W-what? No, that’s not what—”

“I think it’s best you leave now,” Azul dodged your attempts to grab him, refusing to make eye contact. “I’ll show you out.”

“Please, Azul, I wasn’t making fun!” A ball was forming in your throat, making your voice tremble and breath stutter. 

As he turned the doorknob, door just cracking open, Azul turned to look at you only to falter as his face fell at the sight of the tears falling from your face. 

“A-are you crying?!” He shut the door close as he rushed over, hovering his hands over your frame. “Why are you crying—”

“Cause I thought you liked me! Jade said—well he didn’t actually say, he heavily implied—that you had hanahakiiii…” You drawled out the last bit of your sentence as Azul’s face turned purple, looking horrified as you finished your sentence. 

Azul stuttered out, “H-he implied w-what!? Damn that eel—ACK!” before heaving and gasping for breath. As he suddenly collapsed on his knees, you following suit in worry, Azul began making a choking sound. 

Though you couldn’t see his face, you could see the clumps of wet buds fall out of his mouth, covered in inky spit, eventually an entire bunch of lavender heaving out of him as well. 

“Auughhh…that—” Azul coughed again, looking up at you with a combination of ink and spit dripping from his mouth. “—was unbecoming of me, I’m sorry…wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

Reaching for your pocket, you took Azul’s handkerchief and gently grabbed his chin to look at you. Azul visibly relaxed as your wiped the mess from his lips, fingers moving to comb through his hair. Sighing as he slowly looped an arm around your waist, Azul ,.....

“I should’ve made Jade sign another NDA when I saw him snooping through my bedroom, should’ve known.” 

You let out a breathless chuckle, leaning into his grasp. “Yeah, probably. If it helps I shouldn’t have listened to Cater’s dating advice.”

“You what?!” Azul exclaimed, looking at you dubiously, “You asked Cater for advice?”

“He seemed like he knew what he was talking about!” You defended yourself, pouting. “He noticed that you were cooking for me, when you never do for anyone else.”

He sighed, rolling his head back to look up at the ceiling instead of your face. 

“As you said—which I’m assuming was one of the things Jade told you—preparing and providing food to our mates is a courting ritual for Cecaelians. I follow the same routine as my mother: create and test recipes, then pass along the instructions to my subordinates and ensure it’s top quality.” 

Azul continued, holding your hand as he stood, guiding you up with him. “We octofolk were shunned out of merfolk society for a longtime, even with the legends of the Sea Witch’s benevolence.”

Reaching for one of the cookies still on the table, Azul brought it up to your mouth, tapping it to your lips. 

“It shows that no matter our status, we can provide for the one we’ve devoted ourselves to.”

Bringing a thumb to your mouth, Azul softly pulled your lips apart to feed you. A fond, but embarrassed warmth flushed over you, a matching red blush on your cheeks to Azul’s periwinkle one. 

“That’s…sweet.” You smiled, taking the cookie from Azul’s hand, much to his surprise. “And really corny, especially for you.”

Azul clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes as you took a bite of the cookie. 

“I’m attempting to be genuine, and you’re calling me corny? How insulting!” Azul huffed, though he gave you a faint smile. “I hope you’re going to apologize.”

“Aww, poor Azul. Of course I can give you an apology, if you’ll accept it.”

He gave you a raised brow, confused but still smiling. “Of course, why wouldn’t I—”

A yelp escaped Azul’s lips as you pressed your own lips against his, smiling as you did. Azul sighed into your mouth, tasting the lavender and vanilla on your tongue while you smiled against his lips. His hands cradled your own, keeping you in place as Azul returned the affection with chaste kisses pressed all over your face, neck, and hands

“Wait—ah! Hehe~” You laughed as Azul’s kisses tickled you, weakly pushing him away as he moved to kiss the tops of your hands. “That tickles, stop!”

“Heh, come on now my dear.” Azul cooed, pulling you back in to wrap an arm around your waist, grabbing the cookie from your hands to feed it to you, which you accepted. 

“Let me keep all your affection to me, and mine to you. I am quite a greedy lover, you know?” 

[starlightsearches]

Hi Star! Huge congratulations on your 2k milestone - it is so well deserved!!

Could I possibly get "Let's Hear it for the Boy" with our beloved ginger general?

Thank you so much and congrats again!!

Drunk / In Love

Track 3: Let's Hear It for the Boy by Deniece Williams - Give me a character and I'll write a short blurb or headcanons on how they would want you to show them that you love them. 

General Hux x F! Reader / 📼 ✨ mixtape milestone ✨ 📼

Thanks for the request, my love! Sorry it took me so long!

The idiots from these two stories are back again. Sorry I'm obsessed with them (I'm not sorry at all). Warnings for some minor sexual content and weird consent issues!

Phasma said you were drunk.

What she failed to mention was how—how drunk you were, or how you ended up that way. It was only supposed to be a friendly dinner when Hux first suggested it (and didn't stop suggesting it until Phasma finally gave in).

He thought if you made connections here—even just one—that it might make you more comfortable being with him on this ship, and so far from anything familiar.

Although this might be too familiar.

He reaches the door to Phasma's quarters and they glide open automatically, programmed to recognize his approach. He sees Phasma seated at the table, out of uniform, a smirk playing on her wine-stained mouth.

Armitage is not prepared for the dark flash in his peripherals, or the arms around his neck.

Your embrace frightens him, and that alone is enough to leave him feeling hot, stomach swimming, even when he recognizes your touch on instinct. It has him weak at the knees, just this, has his heart in his throat as all the alarm and panic well up inside him, threatening to spill out.

Then your lips meet his. 

There's been a handful of almost-affectionate moments shared between you. The brush of your hand as you wished him goodbye one morning. A kiss on the cheek that missed its target, landing at the edge of his lips.

But nothing like this.

Hux can feel your mouth shift against his, lips turning up at the corners, and the little laugh that passes through them—maybe at the way his hands hang limply at his sides, or the crop of perspiration blooming at his collar from the warmth of your skin, the smell of you. He can't make himself kiss you back, although he wants to.

He really, really wants to.

There's no malice in your eyes when you pull away—Armitage doesn't think you're capable of malice. You smile at him sweetly, taking his hands in both of yours.

"I missed you," you tell him, each word bleeding into the next, eyes half-lidded and hazy from whatever you'd been drinking, "did you miss me?"

"I- uh, yes," he answers—unavoidably honest—his eyes flitting towards Phasma, who's so pleased with herself it practically drips from her, hanging heavier on her shoulders than the armour she usually wears.

A hot anger floods through his stomach, spiked with acrid shame. He doesn’t need any witnesses to his inept attempts at marriage.

Your smile widens, every facet of you bursting with delight knowing that he’s missed you in the hours since you last spoke his name, and then he’s back in your embrace, the sound of sweet laughter in his ear. 

He reaches out for something to brace himself on, and finds nothing. It takes everything in him to keep standing. 

Armitage peels your arms from around his neck, putting a desperate inch of distance between himself and the press of your body. 

"Why don't we let the captain get some rest?" he asks.

Your enthusiasm at the suggestion turns his stomach into knots.

He's able to usher you through the empty halls at a speed just short of a jog, one hand at your waist to keep you from stumbling, and the other wrapped firmly around your wrist to stop any further attempts at touching him.

And, though he can’t puzzle it out just yet—with the warmth of you still against him—he knows something is wrong with you. Something that wine alone could not bring on.

Armitage knows you don’t want him. Not like this. 

Yet you practically drag him through the doors of your quarters, mouth planted against his before the mechanical lock whirs into place. 

All the desire in him makes him sick—feverish and weak. His body shudders against yours, nerves trying to break through skin at the gentleness of your touch.

“Armitage,” you whine, pouty in a way he’s never heard before—always so polite and obliging when you’re sober, “kiss me back.”

He couldn’t refuse you, even if he wanted to, even though he knows it would be better for both of you—knows the way this memory will torture him endlessly, until the moment he dies. Maybe long after that. 

But still, he cups your face in shaking hands, and presses his uncertain lips to yours.

And it’s nothing like all the times he’s thought about this—about taking you, feeling the warmth of your breath mingling with his own, pulling you tight against him with his arm at your waist and kissing, kissing, kissing you, until he tires of the feeling, until he rids himself of all his hideous need to be loved and to be wanted. 

It’s nothing like he imagined because he’s terrified. Because he can’t manage to move the ways he wants to, tripping over his feet when you stumble deeper into his chambers. Because his stomach roils at the feel of your tongue against his stubbornly closed mouth, and his arms shake with the need to move, but his hands stay where he placed them, holding hard enough to bruise, pulling you closer with enough force that part of him wonders if he’s hurting you. 

And still, your mouth on his, your wandering, eager hands. 

The room spins; Armitage’s reason leaves him when his feet lift from the floor, your body underneath him, and below that the cushion of his bed molding you together.

Still kissing. Still you. Your hand, guiding his down the thrumming pulse of your neck, lower. Lower.

Armitage is on the other side of the bed before the thought of how wrong what he has done truly registers, his feet planted and one hand pushing back the fallen strands of his hair.

 “Armitage?”

He curses the day you learned his name, curses the ill, vile part of him that wants to go back. 

He clears his throat and finds it doesn’t steady him at all. 

“You- you should get some rest, I think.”

Your movements are clumsy as you crawl to him on your knees, fighting against the thick bedspread and the fabric of your skirt. There’s a little huff on your lips when you reach him, eyes big and wide and brimming with glistening tears. 

“Why don’t you want me?” you whisper, and tears well up to their breaking point, slipping down your cheeks.

Fuck. He wants to touch you, and knows it’s a terrible idea, palms aching beneath the leather he wears and hates—now more than ever when it keeps him from you. His hand reaches out against his will, hovering just out of reach of your skin and the tears he can’t manage to wipe away because, once again, he is the cause of all your suffering. 

 “You’re- you’re drunk, darling. You’ll feel better if you just-”

“No,” you tell him, pushing his hand away with your own, “why don’t you want me ever?”

Oh, gods. Armitage recoils like you’ve slapped him, the sting of those words and what they mean destroying everything—every moment he’s agonized over since he first saw you and knew you had to be his. 

“You . . . you can’t possibly believe that.” 

You nod your head, fists curled at your sides petulantly, and your stubbornness would make him laugh, if it weren’t so sad.

“I do,” he whispers, then swallows, reaching for your hand. You let him take it. It gives him something to look at, watching your elegant fingers intertwine with his. “I do, but I—”

How much of this will you remember? Even now, the idea of revealing this soft, vulnerable part of him strikes fear into his very core, has him wishing he could run, wishing he could escape the way your eyes flay him wide open.

Your hand against his chest, he can feel his own heartbeat meet the shapes of your fingertips, molding to you. Armitage meets your gaze, and as frightening as it is, there’s no part of him that could deny how deeply he craves it.

“Please forgive me,” he stutters, and there aren't words for him to explain everything he needs to, just the truth. “I am—oh, gods—I am a ruinous man.” 

He watches you, the muscles working in your jaw, the way your brows pull together, examining him, weighing the assessment of himself that he’s offered to you. 

“No,” you tell him, “no you’re not.”

He thinks you might kiss him again, as close as you are. Close enough for him to count each of your lashes, map the constellations you’ve hidden in your eyes. 

You drop to the mattress instead, and the look you give him has him holding back a laugh, the mix of stubbornness and grudging deference that has Armitage wondering how hard it’s been for you to play at obedience in your union.

“You should change,” he tells you, just resting on the edge of the bed, “you’ll be more comfortable.”

It’s easier to talk to you when you’re like this. It has Armitage feeling like he’s the one intoxicated, and he is, in a way. Because what if this is your most honest self? 

He didn’t think you could make him love you any deeper, but you’ve managed. 

“Don’t care,” you mumble into the pillows, trying to brush him away with a waving hand. He takes it in his own.

“You’ll ruin your dress.” 

There’s a look of intense focus on your face, and he wonders if you’ll refuse again. Maybe you don’t care about the dress either, although Armitage would be disappointed. It’s one of his favorites from your incredibly extensive wardrobe—a beautiful black and cream confection that always catches his eye.

But you shift instead, turning to look up at him. “Kiss me.”

Stars, not again. Not now, when the weakest parts of him are so palpable. “I- I don’t-”

You flop into a sitting position, hold a single finger up between your faces.

“One kiss,” you concede, “okay?”

He nods, despite himself. You wait patiently for his approach, still and hardly breathing through your parted lips as he slides closer. Armitage keeps his eyes open, and so do you, heavy as they are, watching the distance between your faces fade into nothing.

It’s not like the other times he’s kissed you, although all but one had happened only a few moments ago. You let him set the pace, his lips just barely brushing your own, a sigh bubbling up from deep inside his lungs. He can only offer a little more pressure before he’s lightheaded again, little bursts of light dancing across his vision.

He pulls back from what could hardly be called a kiss, and waits for your disappointment, for your insistence that he try again, that there must be something more, or better, that he’s kept from you. 

Armitage doesn’t want you to know that there’s nothing else to hope for. 

You don’t say a word about it though. Just flop your arms out in front of you, waiting, satisfied in your demands.

“Help me.”

And it passes like that, with more bribes in the form of barely-there presses of his lips to yours—a kiss for you to raise your arms as he slips something soft and oversized over your head, a kiss for you to clumsily remove the dress from underneath. A kiss to get you to leave him for a moment while he changed into his own night clothes after you’d begged and begged for him to spend the night beside you, and a kiss upon his return.

It feels like a lifetime of kisses to Armitage. He doesn’t know what that number would be for anyone else, but you’ve certainly exceeded it for him. He could die in his sleep tonight and have more than he ever deserved. 

And now you’re curled up beside him a hand at his waist, your head on his chest. Armitage breathes, but only barely, hoping he won’t wake you. 

The tension drains from him, his body the closest it’s been to relaxed in ages. He wonders if he should ask Phasma to invite you to dinner again.

He hopes the next time he kisses you, you'll be sober enough to remember it.

[genshin-impact-unofficial]

Naughty Little Secret Pt.2

Reactions of Genshin men finding your spicy literature.

Ft. Childe, Albedo, and Alhaitham  (Aka blue eyed boy edition)

(PART 1) Ft. Diluc, Cyno, and Thoma  (PART 3) Ft. Scaramouche, Itto, and Xiao

Tags: PG-13, Sexual Themes, GN!Reader, Technically SFW, Crushes, TW!Blood (Albedo) but it’s very mild, LOTS OF TEASING Notes: I swear my first time writing a character always turns out so long. I so appreciate everyone cheering me on tho! Feel free to send suggestions to my inbox! 💘(Repost!)

Childe

Spicy romance novels were your guilty pleasure. After a rough week at work, you deserved to sit back at Yanshang Teahouse and let the flow of words on the pages guide your imagination. You held your newest purchase in your hand and pondered if the cover art was a coincidence. Perhaps deep down, you subconsciously picked the book with a pretty ginger boy on the cover.

Tartagalia hadn’t visited Liyue in a while... and maybe there was a part of you that missed the tall handsome Snezhnayan boy just a tiny bit. You were a tad totally heartbroken when your friend departed from the harbor. He would come by your work quite often just to chat and whenever he had time to kill. Eventually, his company and charming words just became a part of your routine. It was impossible not to be dazzled by the boy’s abundant attention. But as time passed and you felt confident that you were completely over your little crush. You shook your head of those thoughts, it wasn’t important why you chose the book you did. You were here to enjoy yourself and you were hell bound to do just that.

The orange haired protagonist finds himself swept up in trouble much bigger than himself. To protect what’s dearest to him, he becomes a spy to an organization he holds no loyalty to. While behind enemy lines, he meets a girl who sees right through the mask he puts on. She not only figures out he’s a spy, but also sees his bleeding heart that has the ability to turn for the better. Your heart ached for the boy. The way he was stuck between his duties and who he loved made you feel endless sympathy for the protag. He had to betray one in the end to accomplish the other. 

His mission was going to be completed in the morning. After that, he would never see the girl again. The handsome ginger spilled his feeling, laying himself out bare to the girl he loved. She knows, she always did, and she wanted to show him now on their last night. Emotions flood forward as their bodies tangle with one another. He wants her to feel his earnest passion.  He wants to bring her joy, to bring her the happiness she deserved, to bring her pleasure...  A low familiar whistle pulled your mind from the scene. No way...

“Huh, so this is what you do while I’m away...” A cheeky voice teased. You whipped your head to look at the widest shit eating grin that you’ve ever seen since.... well since he left.  

“Tartagalia? What- When did you?” You were reeling and sputtered in surprise and embarrassment. You attempted redirect his attention and tuck the novel behind you as a last ditch effort to save your pride. But alas, Ajax was not known to be a merciful guy.  

“Ah ah ah Y/N, I hadn’t got a good look at that last page. I just have to know about those ‘rippling abs’ mentioned.” Childe playfully reached behind you and snagged the book from your grip. You tried to swipe it back but his reflexes were too fast. “You don’t mind sharing right?”

“I’m serious give it back Childe!”  You threatened, but it only spurred him further. He had a whole head up on you, and was talking full advantage of it. Childe held the book open above you and dramatically cleared his throat before reciting naughty lines from the passages. Your felt your face burn red in both embarrassment and now absolute fury. 

This kid was so dead!

Albedo

There was urgency in your steps while you trekked through the snowy path. You visited Dragonspine enough times to know the beaten trail even when covered in fresh snow, but it was still your least favorite part of coming to the lab. If you had to list your favorite part, well...... your friend Albedo wasn’t exactly terrible to look at. You were glad to see him again so soon. Typically, you purposely spaced out your visits up the mountain, but when you received a letter asking for your assistance in a research matter you really couldn’t say no. 

As junior librarian of the knights, you were tasked with dropping off books and other study material to Albedo’s lab. It’s a grueling task but the two of you got along very well so you were always happy to do it. That being said, you weren’t exactly a person of science and opted reading into history and arts most times. Through years of knowing Albedo, you had to set a clear cut boundary on being a test rat for the alchemist. So far he has respected your wishes, so you didn’t assume it was why he’d call you out here. The curiosity was almost as bad as the blistering cold hitting your nose. As soon as the light illuminating from the lab was in view, you rushed forward desperate for warmth. 

“Y/N, I’ve been awaiting you.” Albedo greeted you kindly. 

“Hey Albe-” The words died in your throat when you caught sight of your friend. The blond’s hair was free from its usual up-do, messy locks framed the boys handsome features and flowed over his shoulders. Albedo’s neat attire was now lax, his knightly accessories nowhere to be seen. What could be seen was the expanse of the alchemist’s collarbone since two additional buttons were undone on his dress shirt. Somehow even while fully clothed, it felt indecent to witness him like this. “Is... everything alright Albedo?” You asked, averting your eyes to keep from ogling your friend. 

“Of course.” Albedo answered easily, his voice was low and sultry. “Please take a seat Y/N. I have something urgent that needs your eyes.” He directed you, cocking his head towards the small table. Your brain was short circuiting and all you could think to do was obediently sit. You had never seen the serious and calculated man like this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. Albedo served you a cup of hot tea and opted to lean against the table instead of sitting. 

“So... um what did you need me to look at.” You asked awkwardly, unsure what to do with yourself. 

“Well obviously I want you to look at me Y/N” A light smirk formed across Albedo’s lips and he smoothly leaned over your chair. Your eyes followed every single movement while your face quickly began to heat up. Where was all of this coming from? Should you be concerned? 

“W- what do you mean by that?” You blurted out, mind racing a mile a minute.

“I want you to-” Everything came to a screeching halt when your chair, that Albedo had been leaning on, began to tilt backwards. Both you and blond were sent crashing to the ground, ruining any kind of mood that was building. Your head ached from where you bumped it but Albedo intentionally took the brunt of it, completely face-planting into the hard floor. 

“Albedo are you alright??” You hovered over him. The boy simply turned to you and blinked. His stoic expression was more akin to what you typically were used to. 

“I apologize Y/N. It seems I didn’t fully grasp the concepts in the experiment before executing it. Are you hurt?” He stood up and carefully helped you to your feet. He examined you for any signs of injury, regardless of his obviously bleeding nose. 

“Im good, the chair broke most of my fall. You on the other hand...” You grabbed a handkerchief and try to assist him. “Wait... experiment? Is that what this is all about?” You accused, slightly irked. 

“Yes, I saw a fascinating book among the study material you left behind recently. I assumed that it was a new subject you had recommended for me.” Albedo stated simply. “Its contents was um... quite intimate at times, but I thought it was a interesting perspective on forming human connections.” You felt froze, but this time not from the blistering cold. 

“Did the book have um.... did it have a pair of cuffs on the front?” You asked, praying to the archons that you were mistaken.

“Yes, I studied it extensively.” Albedo replied without a hint of shame on his features.  You replayed his interactions and what had just transpired in your head and looked back over to your friend.

“Okay two things. One, don’t you dare breathe a word to anyone about that book or else I’ll be very upset with you. And two, that was fucking hilarious.” You bursted out in laughter at the absurdity of the whole happenstance. Albedo gazed back at you confused, but your amusement was undeniably infectious. He smiled fondly back at you. Although the experiment couldn’t be labeled a success, the outcome was still one he found pleasing.  

Alhaitham

It was grueling working in the Akademiya recently. The overthrow of power left everyone with plenty to do. You would go mad from attending meeting after meeting if you didn’t have some sort of stress outlet. Writing was a way you liked to ease your mind, like an escape of sorts. You loved writing loose plots for light novels and dreamed to one day send an entry to the “Wow This Novel is Amazing!” contest in Inazuma. You were far from a finished manuscript, but it’s days like these that gave you inspiration. After working through piles of paperwork, you earned yourself a moment of indulgence. Especially when stress was eating you alive, your scenes tended to take a turn for the... suggestive. 

The scene opened to the main character pondering why their mentor kept themselves at arms length. She respected him immensely and strives to uphold his reputation by improving her skill. He was young and handsome, skilled far beyond his years. They held a close bond, closer than either of them have ever experienced. Now it was unclear why he was giving her such a cold shoulder. She confronts her mentor about the reasons behind his actions. He expresses his pride in her, how she has come far in the their time together. But for her to achieve new highs, she must leave him behind. His feelings for her would only be a hindrance now. 

She felt the tension between them for some time now. It was lingered in soft bushes between fingers, meaningful glances over meals, and caring gestures done without thinking. She’s fallen for the beautiful man, to a point that it wasn’t logical. No words need to be exchanged, only body heat. Arms hold onto the other in yearning desperation. Lips hungrily meet, as if they’ll never to be sated. Her want clouds all her senses and she could feel his willingness to give her everything, all of him. Hot needy breaths trail down her body, discarding any clothes that stood barrier, until he finally put his mouth directly on- 

“Busy Y/N?” The amused man asked from the doorway. You jump in response, quickly pushing aside the parchment that you were writing on. 

“Alhaitham! What are you doing here?” You pipe up, surprised to see your friend for more than one reason. Alhaitham had been promoted to acting grand sage while the rest was still settling, he had to be incredibly busy. 

“I see you’re not very excited to see me,” Alhaitham teased, strolling casually into your office anyway. “Even after I went through the trouble of coming to grab the data reports myself and pay you a visit.” He tsked. 

“You came to see me? Ah, so you need a favor.” You playfully jabbed back, easily finding comfort in the other’s company. It really had been quite a while. If it weren’t for the man’s inflated ego, you might have told him that you’ve missed him. 

“You wound me. It’s not an oddity for colleagues reconnect reminisce while also carrying out an errand for the acting great sage.” Alhaitham replied smoothly, not bothering to go through the motions and pretend to act hurt.

“Yikes, already pulling the ‘acting great sage’ card.” You chuckle. Alhaitham and you have worked closely together for years, so you didn’t mind going out of your way to do him a favor. But maybe one day he would learn that all he had to do was ask nicely. 

“It would be foolish to not use the assets as they are presented to me.” The former scribe shrugged. He opened his mouth as if to continue the witty banter, but a beep from on his person alerted him of something. “I’ll have to brief you later. I’ll just take the data reports and be on my way.”

“Right, here it goes.” You handed him the prepared stack of papers on your desk and just like that Alhaitham was gone, off to his next endeavor. Wow he really is swamped now a days. You thought, ready to get back into your writing. Ideas kept flowing through you as you looked for the parchment you just had.... Wait it was just right here. Oh no.

-

“ALHAITHAM! I NEED THE DATA REPOR-” You barged into acting grand sage’s office, which was no easy feat. You were stopped again and again by all the matra crawling about. Your mouth ran dry when spotted the parchment in the smirking man’s hands. You wished the floor would just open up and swallow you whole so that you wouldn’t have to look at that cocky handsome face. 

“The data report? Certainly, it’s right over there on the desk.” Alhaitham stated, not bothering to take his eyes off your handwriting. “I’m still going over some of it now and I have to say, it’s quite in depth.” He went on.

“You are such a jerk! Give it!” You resorted to trying to snatch it, but the former scribe easily turned away without sparing you even a single glance. You knew what he wanted and damn did it feel like making a deal with the devil. “I’ll owe you a favor, no questions asked. Just hand it over and keep your mouth shut.” 

“Two favors.” He bargained without batting an eye.

“You’re pushing it-”

“One is for my silence and the other for the safe return of your... passion project.” Alhaitham interjected, finally tearing his eyes from your writing to shoot you a glance above the paper. You willed a stern expression onto your face, even while a furious blush bloomed cross your cheeks. A curt nod sealed the agreement and the man casually returned the parchment to you as promised. You snatched the paper from him and averted your gaze.

“Y/N you have quite the knack for imagery.” Alhaitham added slyly. You expected he would tease you a little longer, so you braced yourself for the worst. What you did’t expect was the tall man to lean over you with his hand braced on the desk. Your eyes shot up to his in surprise. “If you’re ever in need for another peer review, I’d be happy to offer my services.” He winked. 

<A/N: These men need to be stopped>

[tossawary]

One of my favorite Discworld books is actually one of the more obscure ones, "Moving Pictures", which is about the invention of films and the movie business in this fantasy world that has dwarves and trolls and wizards and so on. It has its rough patches like every early Discworld book, but Ginger's speech about people who were born in the wrong time or wrong place for their dreams really gets to me in a good way, and I love all of the references to classic films and commentary on fame and creativity. It also has classic characters like Gaspode the Talking Dog and C.M.O.T. Dibbler, and it introduces Detritus's romance with another troll named Ruby.

Perhaps most importantly to me is that this book introduces Ponder Stibbons, who is a wizard, and who goes on in later books to be one of the most important members of the Unseen University (he holds like twelve different positions), in that he's one of the few people who can competently manage a project and so ends up managing nearly everything. (Bear with me, it's been a while since I read any Discworld and my memory is a little rough.) In "Moving Pictures", Ponder is the classmate (roommate?) of a fellow named Victor Tugelbend, who is one of the main characters.

Victor begins the book as a career student, in that a wealthy relative left him a great deal of money exclusively for school; so as long as he STAYS in school, all of his living expenses are paid for. If Victor graduates, that's the end of the money. If Victor drops out, that's the end of the money. But if Victor manages to hit a specific mark range in the 80s every year, then he gets to stay on for another year and try again, and so Victor is perhaps the most dedicated and knowledgeable wizardry student in the university's history, because you have to know what the right answer is in order to intentionally get a certain number of the questions wrong, so that you can continue to coast along on your college fund.

Ponder's graduation is (accidentally) Victor's fault, because Victor runs away to get into the movie business. (I won't spoil what happens, but it's VERY funny.) Now, I like to imagine after the events of the book, after Ponder holds a faculty position in the university, Victor comes BACK to the university occasionally as a disgustingly well-paid external consultant, which drives Ponder UP THE FUCKING WALL. Like, people are so stingy all of the time but SOMEHOW the university budget has room to bring your offensively handsome dropout roommate back just to say, "Hmm, yes, that looks bad. Have you tried turning it off and on again?" I'd throw a fit, honestly. (As soon as Ponder has enough seniority, he probably puts his foot down to stop this if Victor isn't actually useful. Maybe he is, idk, but maybe not for THAT consulting fee.)

I also like to imagine that Victor Tugelbend and Theda "Ginger" Withel are still together, maybe even still acting (badly? mediocre-ly? decently?) together, in some dingy little theatre (Ginger is the director and runs their acting troupe like a tyrant) where the front seats are regularly filled with middle-aged folks who still sigh over the memories of moving pictures. (Moving pictures are now, presumably, VERY illegal in Ankh Morpork.) Victor and Ginger have only because even more attractive as they've gotten older, which is EVEN MORE OFFENSIVE to poor Ponder because his former movie star former roommate is married to another gorgeous former movie star?! I'd throw another fit.

Anyway, I think Ponder deserves to have an affair with a pair of aging former movie stars. I like to imagine this purely because I think it's funny. He seems kind of busy for marriage, so joining someone else's marriage part-time might be good for him. It probably makes most of the rest of the Unseen University faculty breathlessly envious and that really does it for him.

And I think that this affair would OF COURSE be covered by every newspaper and tabloid in the city, including The Times, and William de Worde and Sacharissa Cripslock don't fully understand why their entertainment reporter is so breathlessly excited about people who were famous over a decade ago? (Supermarket tabloids love to tell me about alleged affairs of people who were famous 20+ years ago.) The article on Victor Maraschino and Delores De Syn's failing marriage* is their bestselling newspaper in months and William puts his head down on his desk in despair. (He's fine. This happens on a weekly at least basis. He just needs a minute.)

*Victor and Ginger are very happy with this situation, actually. They're going to take Ponder to dinner to go on a double date with Ruby and Detritus soon. Victor and Ponder are going to get distracted arguing about some of the Inadvisably Applied Magic research projects, but that's fine, because Ginger wants to talk to Ruby about this one-troll-woman-show concept. (Detritus will proudly hand out tickets at the Watch station and accidentally intimidate all of his coworkers into accepting the invitation.)

[hellaarknight]

Chuuya drabble ahead.

Someone thought it was a good idea to eat my last ice cream. I'm beyond pissed and ready for revenge. Mention of NSFW content towards the end. Enjoy!

- I love you.

- Ok, and?

Chuuya groaned exasperated. He knew he fucked up and you got mad, but giving him the cold shoulder and not responding back to his desperate confession was beyond evil.

- Baby, doll face c'mon... I apologized, I promised I'll buy you another one, stop being so fucking stubborn.

- Ohhhh, so now I'm also stubborn. Good choice of words Chuuya. Desperate, pitiful and now stubborn.

You just puffed your chest, pretending to be offended. He couldn't get away with it this time.

- My loooove, please, for the love of anything holy, stop acting so childish!

You raised an eyebrow and looked him dead in the eyes. He gulped, sighed then spoke again.

- Ok, maybe this wasn't the smartest choice of words. Look doll, I promise I'll make it up to you. In any way you'd like. Please, just please, stop this madness of being cold and petty towards me, is driving me insane.

The pitiful one was Chuuya right now. If someone saw him right now they couldn't have said that he was a Port Mafia executive. And honestly, it was a delight for you to see the prideful, stubborn motherfucker of your boyfriend beg you for forgiveness for eating your favorite last ice cream. And it's not like he didn't have any other alternative, the fucking freezer was full of every type of ice cream, minus your favorite. Also, you wouldn't make such a big deal out of it... but you asked him nicely, then also sent him a message throughout the day to not touch your damned ice cream because you had an awful day and your period had to start... You were just a mess emotionally and needed your emotionally support food. That's all.

- Everything, everything?

- Yes, I'll do everything and anything you'll ask me to.

You grined.

- You'll call Mori and ask for a week off. And you'll spend it with me. No interruptions. No work. No fucking paperwork. No quickies, but finally a good fucking passionate sex session. And you'll buy me all the ice cream I want, you will not touch or eat any drop of it...

Chuuya blinked slowly, registering what you just told him.

- what... I can't take a week off for that Sugar, I mean we can't do it in the weekend. Honestly that sounds more like a reward than a punishment.

- Naha. Week off, or I'm going to be a petty bitch for a fucking month. Your choice, Sweetheart.

- Love, baby, you know it's not that easy to ask Mori for...

- I don't care. Your actions have consequences so deal with it.

Chuuya passed a frustrated hand through his ginger hair. He wanted a break from work too and spending all that time with you was just what he craved. And maybe you were right, your bedroom sessions weren't the most romantic or affectionate ones, he did kinda neglect you. Fuck, he could see the extra work already pilling up... But then, he couldn't resist you.

- Fine. I'll call Mori First thing in the morning. Now, are you happy?

He smiled, also content with his choice. He deserved a good break.

- Maybe yes, maybe not. Who knows. We will find out after your trip to the supermarket, when you bring me back my goods.

- Of course it couldn't be that easy... Yes, everything for you, I'll get going.

Anything else?

- Did I mention that I plan to eat the ice cream out of your body? While you're all tied up? And you will not be able to touch me? All week?

Chuuya choked on his saliva and his eyes widened in shock. The smirk on your face was telling him that you were more than serious.

- What!? Ain't no fucking way I'll do that doll face.

- Oh, but of course you will. If you fuck around you find out Chuu, baby. Next time you plan to try to get a reaction out of me by eating my last piece of delicious ice cream, maybe you'll think twice about it. Because ain't no fucking way that I'm not capable of doing even worse than this. Right, sweetheart, you know how much I do love you?

A shiver went down Chuuya's spine. You would make one hell of a Mafia member with this attitude. He made a mental note to never mess with your food again when you're in your premenstrual period. To hell with it, never mess with your food or try to prank you again.

[headless609]

Cartman Angst

Ah Cartman, the bigoted, racist, sexist, overweight, bully, bullied, and a victim. Cartman is my favorite character and it’s not just because he is hilarious. If you watch the show and really looks into it, you can see why Cartman acts the way he does. Let’s start with the obvious. Cartman is fat. We see the show make fun and jab at his weight sense season 1. We see side characters such as Liane and his eye doctor to the main characters aka Kyle, Stan and Kenny making fun of his weight. Especially Kyle. I don’t think people realize how fucking mean Kyle was to Cartman (and Cartman hadn’t even done anything evil yet btw). Kyle is always and stills calls Cartman ‘fatsss.’ Speaking of the earlier seasons, remember Cartman’s eye doctor? Y’know, the one who had no chill and continuously bullied Cartman by calling him porky and just being devious? Yeah him.

Next I want to talk about Cartman’s home life. And it’s bad, like it’s as bad as Kenny. Not only is Cartman quite poor but his dad is gone and his mom is a prostitute. Not only does Cartman not get scolded by his mom but his mom brings in men that are there for sex. Sound bad? Yeah, you can imagine a guy finding Cartman’s room. And you might think, ‘Dude, you’re reading into this way too seriously.’  

We see that Cartman has been assaulted by his cousin and his Uncle, Jessie. We see this in Le Petite Tourette’s and in Fun with Veal. And this is just two of the many other occasions. 

Everyone knows the episode Scott Tenorman Must Die, where Cartman snapped and went batshit crazy. But most people don’t remember the banned episode where we see Scott again. Where we learn a dark truth. Cartman and Scott were step-brothers, Cartman had killed his own father, the father he had cried himself to sleep wishing he’d come back. And when we see him admit that he’s crying because of him being half ginger to his friends, all I can think is , ‘ Really? After all the tears that your pillow soaks?’ But then you think, would you tell some kids that have always bullied you because of your weight and you thought only hung out with you cause you bully people with them why you’re actually sad? HELL NO! Cartman may be crazy and a sociopath but he ain’t stupid. The reason he is able to stay with the gang is that they think he is cool (which they don’t) heck the only reason why they became a friend group was because Cartman bullied Pip! And with all that piled up, Cartman becomes insecure about himself and to make him feel better lashes out an everyone else, believing he is a victim in every scenario and everyone deserves to pay. 

And that is the debrief of the monster, Eric Cartman. The most hated South Park child in the show. 

There is so much I want to say about Cartman, and I tried to fit it in one Notes page. And I hate it whenever one says they hate Cartman because he is a nazi and all that shit. I understand, but please peel his onion skin and you’ll understand why Cartman is such a good character. This one is the longest one yet so thanks for those who were able to read the entire thing. 🥲

[connorsbonez]

Stalkers and Cryptids

Timeline: Pre-OT4, Middle of OT3

About: Tim and Wes have a conversation about fucking up and how to proceed afterwards.

Court Talk

Tim watched as Wes turned the basketball in his hands with a contemplative expression on his freckled face out of the corner of his eye. The ginger hadn’t said anything since he dragged Tim out to a basketball court, leaving them in prolonged silence, and the vigilante could only imagine what possessed Wes to bring him out here.

He wondered distantly whether or not he could come up with a good reason to leave early without guilt so he could go back to the cold case he’d been working on.

Tim just wanted to be able to drown everything out, ignore his personal problems, and hyper focus on cases so he could actually help someo-

He grunted as something slammed into his stomach, instinctually grabbing it before it registered to him what it was. Tim glanced down at the basketball in confusion before looking up at an unamused Wes with knitted brows.

Wes scoffed softly, his head rolled back slightly as well as his eyes at the motion before he met Tim’s gaze again. “You were making that face again.”

“What face?”

“That really dumb one when you’re slowly slipping into self-depreciation from overthinking.”

Tim frowned. “I don’t make that face.” Who was he kidding, he probably did.

The ginger raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, instead gesturing a hand over at the hoop. “Think you can make that shot?”

He pursed his lips, a feeling of frustration sparking in his chest, “What are you doing?” He asked, his grip on the basketball tightening. “Why are we here?”

Why are you still choosing to be around me? To have me in your life still?

“To rewrite the Declaration of Independence in a backwards Dutch-Ghostspeak love language.” Wes replied voice laced so heavily with sarcasm that Tim could practically taste it, crossing his arms as he leaned back on his heels. “We’re here to hang out, play basketball and I kick your ass at it, and I don’t know…” The conspiracy theorist paused, trailing off, the frown on his face softening as he looked down with a grimace at the ground for a brief moment. “…talk, I guess.” He ended the sentence awkwardly.

This is the weirdest breakup he’s ever experienced. Tim couldn’t help but think and he says as much, earning himself an incredulous look from Wes that quickly morphed into a familiar expression of ‘you’re such a fucking idiot’ and Tim used to think it wasn’t possible to have that look and have it still manage to look so fond (so painfully fond), but still very much annoyed, until the very first time he saw Wes make that expression at Danny and later Tim himself.

“Why the hell would you think that?”

Because I messed up, because my mistake got him hurt which in turn hurt you, because I’m a stupid horrible person who couldn’t not be nosy for one fucking moment and doesn’t deserve this and shouldn’t have had pretended I did.

“I think you know.” He answered vaguely, glancing away.

Wes’ eyes narrowed slightly, green eyes seemed to soften into a sort of understanding, an understanding much deeper than just getting what Tim meant and he couldn’t begin to imagine what Wes got. The ginger sighed and opened his arms, obligating the vigilante to bounce the basketball into his hands. Wes twisted the ball in his grip for a moment before he started bouncing it idly as he turned to face the hoop, Tim followed his gaze briefly before settling back at the theorist.

“I almost exposed Danny’s identity to a government branch that wanted to vivisect him and use him for experiments.” Wes confessed almost with an eerie casualness if not for the breathless way he said it, like he had to force the words out or else they’d never be heard, as he made the shot, the ball traced the rim before falling through the hoop, the bouncing was almost louder than it should have been as Tim stood in stiffened silence, trying to process what Wes just said.

Not that Wes gave him the time, continuing to plow through this conversation as he walked over to grab the ball, it seemed to shake in his hold as he stared down at it. “I’ve never been good at keeping secrets in the sense that I couldn’t leave things to lay, I didn’t understand that some things shouldn’t be brought to light. Ever. When I saw a mystery, I wanted to solve it and show it off to everyone and their mothers.”

Wes let out a huff that sounded close to a dull laugh. “Danny had a mystery that I had solved ages ago, it was pretty obvious for me, the problem was that no one seemed to see it too or believed me when I tried to tell them. Of course, I couldn’t leave it as that. I just had to get people to believe me and See The Truth.” His nose scrunched up at the end of his words and Tim thought that Wes’ green eyes seemed to glow for a moment under the setting sun.

“I did so many stupid things to try and prove it, things that Danny will probably happily tell you because some of them are downright mortifying. Like intensive stalking and publicly accusing him of being a ghost with his ghost hunting parents not two feet away from him.” The conspiracy theorist paused, taking in a breath as he bounced the ball a few times as if to comfort or ground himself. “The GIW hadn’t seemed so bad back then, for the humans at least, for those who didn’t know what they were really like and that unfortunately included me for a bit. And I was desperate at this point for anyone to believe me, so desperate that I fucking emailed the GIW about how I knew Phantom’s identity with some of my proof attached to make them believe me.”

Tim’s mouth was slightly hanging from that. “You what?”

Wes grimaced as he bounced the ball more harshly. “Yep. If Danny hadn’t broken into my house when he did to explain, it…would have ended much differently.” He finished his sentence after a moments of hesitation, turning again to throw the ball through the hoop again and going to retrieve it. Leaving Tim to process what he just learned.

Eventually Tim found Wes standing in front of him again, he looked at the ginger and licked his dry lips. “How’d you fix it?” He asked, his voice coming out more quiet than he wanted too. “How…did you get Danny to forgive you for that? He must have been angry with you.”

Wes blinked slowly, leaning back on his heels in a casual manner. “Oh. He didn’t.”

“What?”

“He didn’t forgive me.” Wes said slowly, like he was talking about the weather, as he leaned forward slightly and met Tim’s eyes again.

Tim stared back into green eyes as his body felt chilled, as if someone dumped a bucket of ice water onto him. An ugly bubbling feel squirmed inside him and made him ponder distantly if he was going to throw up or not. “But..you’re dating. You’re together.” He pointed out with a frown, confused on how Danny could date Wes if he didn’t forgive him.

The ginger sighs like he was an old man who just got told his dumbass grandkids were out doing something stupid and he needed to go get them. Wes let the ball hit the ground and roll off slowly as he crossed his arms. “Yeah. We are.”

“But..he doesn’t forgive you.”

“Uh huh.” Wes sighed again and scratched the back of his neck. “Look, here’s the thing Tim, no one’s obligated to forgive someone when they fuck up, majorly or not. It’s purely up to that person. But just because they don’t forgive that person, that doesn’t mean they can’t move on and grow from the experience, and maybe that results in those people losing contact or maybe they get close again as friends, family or lovers. It just..depends on the situation and the people.”

Wes paused to take a breath. “That’s not to, like, say there isn’t work both people have to put into healing that relationship, because there is. It’s so much work to repair that broken trust and mend the foundation so it can grow into something new.”

“Something new?”

“Well, yeah, there’s no fucking way that relationship is going to be exactly the same if it gets fixed.”

Tim swallowed thickly, uncomfortable and a little scared to ask his next question. “So..Danny’s never going to forgive me but with work he’ll hopefully still want to be with me?”

“I don’t know.” Wes replied with a simple shrug, making Tim blink widely in confusion. “What? What do you mean you don’t know?”

“It means, I don’t know whether or not Danny’s gonna forgive you and still want to be in a relationship with you. I’m not Danny, I don’t always know what’s going on in that cracked kaleidoscope mind of his.” Wes explained a bit too fondly as he poked at his temple. “But, if you ask for my personal opinion, you and Danny will be just fine. I mean, he’s dating me, on good terms with multiple of his rouge gallery, and is friends with two of his exes that have either successfully killed him or have tried too.”

That was so much information at once, holy hell. “What-“

“Plus, not to sound egotistical or anything, but what I did was arguably worse compared to what you did. You did it out of a source of concern and love, I did it for the ego boost.”

“Wes-“

“What I’m trying to say is,” Wes carried on, clasping his hands together, “there’s nothing to worry about as long as you guys do some simple little thing.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Wes inhaled and leaned forward slightly. “Talk to one another and figure it out.”

The vigilante paused and blinked several times because…that’s it? Really? And he asks as such, tone utterly confused. Wes laughed in response and shrugged, something he’s been doing a lot recently, as he gave Tim an almost flat look.

“Yep, that’s it. Shocking isn’t it? But yeah, that’s all you really have to do, just…sit down and talk to each other. Figure yourselves out and how y’all are going to continue from there.”

That…was a plan. Not something Tim did very much, both as a Drake and as a Drake-Wayne, but it was a plan nonetheless. It didn’t remove the anxiety that thrashed and clawed inside him, the fear and the what ifs. Not adding that there was something to this plan that was wrong in the way that something wasn’t even mentioned in it.

“What about you?”

Wes paused and his nose scrunched up in confusion. “Huh?”

“What about you.” Tim repeats his words again as he stared down the theorist. “Where do you stand in this situation, Wes? You’ve given me advice and how to proceed with this situation and what could possibly happen but you’ve never stated your own opinion on this.”

Wes frowned slightly at Tim. “I thought it was pretty obvious what my stance was on this.”

“No, no, not really. Well- kind of? Look, I guess what I’m trying is ask is…” Tim paused, resisting the urge to lick his lips as his heart squeezed painfully at the thought he’d formed. “..Should Danny and I…break up because of this, will we also be separating?” Tim’s voice slowly got quieter as he asked the elephant in the room, the dreadful question.

Wes blinked slowly, as if this wasn’t something the ginger had thought too hard about, and he was silent for a long moment which made Tim’s skin itch before he finally replied. “…No. I’m not going to leave you should you and Danny end up breaking up.”

Something loosened in Tim’s chest, only slightly but it was still a nice weight removal all the same.

“Really?”

Wes made a micro expression like he instinctually wanted to say something snarky before his face quickly smoothed out and he nodded. “Really.”

“Okay…okay. I think it’s time I go talk to Danny.”

•• End ••

What did Tim do? Who knows! Up to you I guess.

:)

[cwritesforfun]

Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x Fem!Reader: Your Dad's Biggest Fan (Request)

Ginger = Your Name L/N = Your Last Name *** I do not own any of the Bear characters or plot***

Masterlist

Your POV - The Meet Cute

You write lifestyle reviews for Chicago in the Chicago Times and you often get to visit really cool events in the city that you love. You get to attend music festivals, visit new hotels, and just enjoy the city for pay. However, your favorite part is getting to try different kinds of cuisine in the city and you love to shout out places that you truly enjoy visiting because they all deserve success for their hard work. You've always enjoyed food and writing, so this felt like the perfect job for you.

Your father is an amazing cook with restaurants and Michelin stars to prove it. You're used to people using that information against you or for their personal benefit, so you stopped telling people about him. You even started going by your mother's maiden name, so nobody connected you to your father. Your work knows who your father is and you host the annual holiday party at one of his restaurants, which is fine to mix work and family once a year. Your friends like your father, but they don't use you to get to him, which is nice to have people who truly care about you. It's why you find it hard to date because people seek to use you at every turn.

Your work brings you joy and you love doing it. So getting an email from one of the chefs asking you to meet at their restaurant to talk terrifies you. You went to the Bear, a new restaurant that had once been a sandwich shop called the Beef. Your father liked their sandwiches and would often get them when he was on that side of Chicago. The Bear had just opened with a new menu and they hosted a press night where reviewers in the city came to discover more about the restaurant. You were sent by your newspaper company. You met up with other reviewers that were attending the event and you had a blast. The staff was courteous and kind, they also knew what you needed before you needed it. The food was hot and tasty and melted in your mouth. The bathrooms and space were clean. The wine selection matched perfectly with the meal. The Head Chef, Carmen Berzatto even came out of the kitchen to thank everyone. He was young and cute, and he seemed passionate about his place. You commended the event as one of your favorites and talked up the staff in your article. You even mentioned going to the Beef before it became the Bear. You showed your support, so you were confused about why you were being invited back for a chat. It worried you.

You get off the metro train and make your way over to the Bear. You show up outside and notice they're not even open. This makes you even more confused. You open the front door, step in, and see the staff all sitting at the tables eating lunch from what it looks like. They all turn to face you and you exclaim, 'Hi, I'm Ginger from the Chicago Times. I was told to meet Chef Carmen Berzatto here for a meeting now." The guy you recognize as the chef, Carmen Berzatto, looks up and says, "Oh wow you're on time." You reply, "Yes sir, I recognize that we all have a lot going on, so being punctual is always something I strive for. I usually am 10 minutes early to events, but the metro here was packed." A girl sitting at the table says, "I get that, I hate the metro. My name is Sydney. Nice to meet you, Ginger." You reply, "Nice to meet you, Sydney." You see a man near Camen Berzatto ask, "What made you get into reviews? Oh, and I'm Richie." You answer, "Hi Richie. Well I love writing and I love food, so I wanted to combine them for my job. My mom has always told me to work hard to succeed and that's what I did. Chicago Times liked some of my pieces for college and I started as an intern before I became the full-time lifestyle reviewer I am today. It's great." Richie asks, "And you've been to the Bear before opening?" You answer, "My father used to take me here growing up when I was a kid. And whenever I was on this side of town after college, I always returned to the Beef. You all were always packed and everyone was always friendly." Carmen Berzatto asks, "So you weren't lying in your article, that was all real?" You answer, "Yes sir. I am always completely open and honest about my experiences even if they're being paid for by the company. I never want to lie to readers or companies about what I feel." Carmen Berzatto replies, "Your article helped us a lot after you visited. People kept coming in mentioning the Chicago Times article and your support for us. We just wanted to see if you would sign some copies for us to keep." OH MY GOSH!!! Why am I going to cry?!?! You reply, "Oh my! I would be so happy too. That makes me so happy. I truly think you all deserve so much success. You can tell each of you has worked so hard to get to this point and you're all passionate about food. I am a happy supporter of The Bear." You sign copies of the newspaper, get a slice of cake to go, and you say goodbye to the staff. They encourage you to come back and they will push everyone out of the way to serve you, which you thank them for.

As you leave, you start walking down the street until you hear your name. You turn and see Carmen Berzatto running after you. You start walking back towards him and he stops running. You ask, "What's up?" He answers, "I just regret not telling you this one-on-one. I really did appreciate what you said and how you mentioned that I seemed so passionate even just from my small speech to everyone. It was nice to see that people could tell from one moment and it made me feel hopeful." You reply, "No problem, Carmen Berzatto. I can tell you'll do great things with the Bear." He smiles and says, "Please call me Carmy." You reply, "Ok then thank you Carmy." He smiles even wider and says, "I don't normally do this, but you seem so bright and happy. I just think if I don't ask then I'll never see you again and I want to see you again, so would you want to go out on a date?" You answer, "Sure. I'd love to. You already have my number, so just text me. I know you have a crazy schedule and I'm pretty open this month, so let me know when you want to go out." He nods and says, "Ok I will. You got it. Well, have a great rest of your day." You reply, "You too, Carmy."

That was the start of your relationship with Carmy.

Your POV - Telling Your Dad

You smile as Carmy texts you during your family dinner and your father asks, "Ginger, what are you smiling about? Surely it's the roast and potatoes, right? Or is there something you want to tell us?" Your father was honest like you, so there was no way to hide this any longer than you have been. You answer, "I have a boyfriend and we've been dating for 6 months. He is taking a 15-minute break at work right now, so he was texting me. He's a chef and his name is Carmy. He used to work at the Beef, but now it's the Bear." Your father says, "No way, I loved the Beef. I'd love to go sometime to the new restaurant, can you ask for his availability on Wednesdays? I'm always off on Wednesdays and you, your mom, and I can go eat there one day or night. It doesn't have to be next week, but by the end of the month would be cool. I'd love to meet your boyfriend." You reply, "Sure Dad. I can ask." He replies, "Good good. Now tell me more about him and his food." You laugh and talk with your family.

Your POV - Telling Your Boyfriend

You did the nice thing and told your boyfriend about your family wanting to eat at his restaurant on a Wednesday day or night. Carmy was excited and he was able to find a table 2 weeks after that you could sit at for a lunch service. Carmy even told you that lunches are calmer, so he could stop by for his break to talk to your family. Richie would be working as your server, which you liked because Richie could talk and your father loved to ask questions.

It's one week away and Carmy is cooking you both dinner. He always takes off at least one night a week to have a normal night with you and you love it. It's always nice and his food is amazing.

After dinner, you turn on the TV and it's your dad's cooking show. Carmy hands you a glass of wine and your box of cookies before you ask, "How do you feel about cooking shows?" Carmy sits next to you on the couch and answers, "You know how I feel about them. They're just ways for chefs to promote themselves and their businesses, which is nice. But usually, they do it because you get paid a lot. Why?" You answer, "Oh uh well Chef L/N's cooking show was on. I just wondered how you felt about his show." He replies, "I admire the he** out of him. He's inspirational. The way he compliments each drink from appetizer to dinner to dessert on his menu is next-level genius. His staff are also brilliant at transforming the guest experience. I want the Bear to have that level of success. And..." Carmy then goes on a whole monologue about your father and how he loves him. You smile and say, "Ok well let's just say he is my dad and you're meeting him next week. He'd probably love to hear that from you." Carmy gasps and asks, "What are you talking about?" You answer, "I don't ever tell people about my dad because they use me... but you're meeting him next week and I think you should know who he is before then. The last name I've been using for the last 6 months is my mother's maiden name." He replies, "Holy sh**!!! And he's going to be at my restaurant next week! He's been to the Beef several times." You reply, "Oh don't bring that up. He misses the Beef like crazy." He laughs and replies, "Okay. Wow, let's not watch his cooking show right now. I think I'll go crazy." You laugh and turn on a movie.

NEXT WEEK ~ YOUR POV

You spent the night with Carmy and at 5 am as he is getting ready, you hand him your coffee and exclaim, "I'll see you at noon baby." He gasps and says, "Oh sh** I am cooking for my idol today. I need my lucky knife and my lucky shirt." He then starts running around frantically and you rub your eyes. Is he freaking out? Is it too early for this? You are tired. You move in front of Carmy as he walks and you place your hands on either side of his arms. You say, "Please, don't freak out. Treat today like a normal day. Be calm and you've got this. My father is just a normal human at the end of the day. Remember that." He replies, "Yeah yeah. I'm going to tell my staff beforehand because this is big." You reply, "Okay. Well, goodbye and good luck." You send him out with a kiss on his lips.

Hours later, you show up at your house and are driving to the Bear with your parents. You park nearby and walk to the restaurant.

As you walk there, you ask, "Hey Dad, can I tell you something?" Your father answers, "What's up sweetie?" You answer, "Carmy is a huge fan of yours and nearly freaked out this morning. He was calm when I first told him, but today was bad. He couldn't find his lucky shirt and he said his lucky knife was at work. I just want you to go easy on him because I really care about him." Your father replies, "No problem, sweetheart."

You arrive and Neil Fak greets you happily. He shows you to the table and Richie immediately pops up. Richie's jaw drops a little at seeing my father, but he quickly recovers. Richie introduces the Bear and the menu then leaves to get the wine my father chose.

My father exclaims, "I like this place. The people are friendly." My mother adds, "And their service is fast." You reply, "Carmy told them that Dad was going to be here. I think they're all nervous and excited." My mother replies, "I bet they are. Poor things. We should invite them over. Are they ever closed?" You answer, "Mondays. They sometimes are unloading and restocking stock though, so they go in for half the day. You should ask Carmy for the specifics." Your father replies, "Oh I have a few things to ask ole Carmy boy now." You reply sternly, "Dad." He replies, "Ok fine. It's nothing bad. Don't worry."

Richie returns and you're all served. You three eat up the food and it's delicious as always. Dessert shows up and you notice Carmy walking your way. You notice his hands are a little shaky and you stand up. You hug him as soon as he reaches you and he presses a kiss to your cheek before you whisper, "He's just a person. It's all fine." You kiss his lips gently before introducing him to your parents. He slides into the seat next to you as you three talk over dessert. Conversation flows and is going well.

My father asks, "So, I hear you really like my daughter and she really likes you." Carmy smiles and says, "Yes sir. I really like your daughter." My father asks, "And what are your intentions with her?" Carmy answers, "Well sir... uh... I really like her and I'm falling in love with her. She's always supportive and kind. She lights up every room she walks in and people like her. I find her to be the person in my life that I look to for cheering up. I also think I cheer her up. You'd have to ask her though. I just think she's the most perfect and amazing that a person can be... and she has you as her father. Sir, I've looked up to you for a while. I think your work ethic and your drive set you apart from other chefs. Your show doesn't feel like a money grab and it's clear to me you love your family, which is great." My father smiles and says, "Well I appreciate it, son. Now do you think your staff would be free on Monday afternoon? Ginger says you have to unload stock, but I assume you get hungry doing all that heavy lifting. I'd love to treat your staff to some lunch at mine." Carmy replies, "Sure sir. That sounds amazing. We're usually done by 2 pm, but then we'll have to drive there. I'm not sure how long it takes, but I'm sure no later than 3:00 is fine for us." My mother replies, "Great, we cannot wait to host. We'll have Ginger give you the address and times. You can give her the number of staff that will show up, so we can plan accordingly." Carmy nods and my father asks, "Can I say thank you to your staff? I noticed they kept trying to get a glimpse of me from the kitchen. I just want to thank them and you. I really did have a lovely time this afternoon and would love to come again." Carmy answers, "Yeah haha they'd really love to hear it. I better get back to work. I'll see you all soon then." He kisses you, hugs your parents, and goes back to the kitchen.

Your father goes in after him and you watch through the window at your father giving some big speech. You see the smiles on everyone's faces and you're happy for them all. You notice your father pat Carmy on the back and you laugh. Carmy is going to freak out. HAHA!

NEXT WEEK on Monday ~ YOUR POV

You had asked for a half day at work and you were still at work at 2:00 pm in a meeting. It finished, you quickly packed up, sent your last emails, and dashed to the metro. You hopped on and went to your family home.

As you walk your way down your street, you see cars parked out front of your house. I guess everyone from the Bear is already there. Hopefully, your father has kept the questioning Carmy to a minimum. Carmy told you last week that it was so exciting to have him there and meet my family. He also said his staff couldn't stop talking about the meal at your parent's place.

You knock and your mother opens it. She pulls you into a hug and says, "Oh hi sweetie. I thought you would be here earlier." You reply, "I tried to leave, Mom. But I didn't want to leave in the middle of the meeting." She replies, "You're just like your father... Speaking of, your boyfriend has been helping him this afternoon and they seem to be getting along. You should grab him and get him to eat. He's only been eating little snacks with your father." You laugh and say, "Ok Mom." She replies, "You look lovely sweetie. You in business casual make us all look lame." You laugh and say, "I was actually going to change up in my room real quick before I say hi to people." She nods and she lets you go. You finish changing in your bathroom and jump when you see Carmy in your bedroom looking around. You exclaim, "Hey Carmy. What are you doing up here?" He sees you and smiles. You kiss him and he answers, "Your mom said you had to talk to me. You were in the bathroom, so I just waited out here." You reply, "My mom thinks you've been working too hard today. She said you started helping him when you got here and she wanted you to have lunch. She wanted you to see me so she knew you were being looked after. It's a mom thing." He replies, "Oh that's really sweet of her. I can take a break and eat with my lovely girlfriend." You reply, "I almost thought you said eat your lovely girlfriend." He gasps and replies, "Babe, we're at your family home. Oh speaking of it, your mom did show your baby album to everyone. Everyone loved it. You were so cute." You reply, "We're making a pit stop to talk to my mom first then we can eat." He laughs then follows you.

You make a plate of food and find space on a couch next to Sydney. Carmy slides next to you and puts an arm around your waist. Everyone starts asking you about your baby photos. Oh gosh... this is great. Richie seems to like this one where you resemble a gremlin and everyone suddenly thinks you need bangs again.

Your father pulls a chair up and so does your mom. Everyone talks, laughs, and enjoys the day.

Masterlist

[skxllz]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬✦✦▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

male! reader introduces ian and mickey to the gayness goodness of iced coffee.

a jug of the cold beverage pulled from the fridge and sat on the counter, along with whipping cream, flavored creamer, sugar and chipped ice. you make quick work at blending each beverage — and then top it all off with a spin-top of whipped cream at the surface.

plunking a straw into the cups, before picking each glass up with little difficulty and shuffling to the living room of your apartment where the two males are spotted wrestling on the couch.

ian has mickey in a head lock, a smug look upon his handsome face, “ y’gonna apologize or what? ”

“ no! ” mickey huffed, trying to push the ginger's arms away — but to no avail. “ fuck off, gallagher! get off’a me! ”

you stand there for a minute and admire the little innocent, happy moment the two share. it isn't often mickey or ian catch a break, with the way the two's lives have always been — mickey either winding up in the can again, have something goin’ on with his family or even some shitty occurrence going on in ian's life like every other day. the two deserved to smile and laugh with one another... and you, who dropped into their lives just a year ago, wanted to make sure it happened.

so far, these past couple’a weeks, you've been doing a pretty good job at it.

“ hey, idiots- ” your presence gracing the living room caused both males to look up; ian being distracted, so mickey finally frees himself from his hold. the brunette shoots him a glare, but ian pays no mind to it - instead, wonders what exactly is in your arms.

“ what's that? ” ian nods at the drinks you're holding, watching as you cross the room to set them on the coffee table.

you hummed, “ iced coffee, ” before plopping down a good distance away from the two.

mickey's brow furrowed a good bit as he took note of that, but you didn't say anything. “ the fuck is iced coffee? ” he questions, looking between you and ian with his famous ‘ what the actual fuck ’ expression.

ian rolls his eyes. “ it's obviously coffee with ice in it. ”

“ and whipping cream, ” you add, smiling proudly. ian chuckles at that, seeming to find your beam of proudness cute. “ plus- the coffee itself is store bought in a jug. I didn't make it. ”

mickey's busy eyeing the drink, looking as if he was expecting it to jump out at him. then, he switches his eyes onto ian; giving him a small nudge. “ you try that shit first. I'm not dyin’.

“ why the hell would you die? ”

“ what if he's tryin’ ta’ fuckin’ poison us, huh? ”

ian gave mickey a deadpanned stare, absolutely done with his shit. although you didn't know whether he was joking or not, you still tried not to laugh — milkovich sure could be an ass sometimes.

ian sighs, turning to wrap his fingers around the cup. “ he's not going to poison us, mick. ” but, even though ian said that with confidence, he still sniffed the iced coffee once he brought it upwards.

as if he could smell anything, though.

.. but then again, he was an emt before. for all you knew —if you were going to poison them— there could be some type of technique behind it to sniff out drugs. like a damn blood hound or something.

oh well, not like there was drugs in there anyway.

slowly, after bringing the rim of the glass to his lips, ian took a sip. his brows pinched together and he hummed, smacking his lips together as he swallowed; pulling the cup back from his mouth. “ it's... ”

“ it's what? ” mickey looked ready to slap ian for being so vague with his dramatic pause. “ fucking what? spit it the fuck out. ”

“ good, ” the ginger grinned, taking another drink. that left mickey to look at him bug-eyed — before his gaze was turned to you.

then the drink.

... and he was snatching the cup up, taking his own sip out of curiosity.

“ the hell? ” mickey mumbled into the surface of the liquid, causing bubbles to arise; his brows were knitted again. whipped cream was sticking to his upper lip, making both you and ian grin.

“ you like it? ” you question, eager to hear his answer. you could never know with mickey — he often had the same reaction with everything.

something negative? swearing. something positive? swearing. only difference was, is that he sometimes changed his tone.

but right now, he just sounded uncertain.

to you, at least. ian could decipher that mickey enjoyed it, because he was laughing quietly under his breath and smiling. “ oh, he likes it. he's just surprised ‘s all. ”

“ hell yeah I'm surprised! ” mickey announced rather aggressively, his eyebrows now risen. “ this shit tastes like queer rainbows and- and fucking fairy sprinkles! and I actually like it! the fuck is that about?! ”

you had to press your fist to your mouth to keep from laughing. “ I'm, uh- I'm glad you like it. ”

it wasn't long before mickey chugged his entire iced coffee down. he ended up slamming his glass onto the table —a whipped cream ring around his mouth and on his chin— with widened eyes, and pupils blown out with amazement. “ get me s’more of this shit. ”

“ yes sir- ”

“ don't call me sir, that shit turns me on. ”

“ ... yes, uh- yes sir. ”

“ ian, grab his ass. I'm done playin’ games. ”

[nightmarevore]

I Get a Craving and I Wake Up For You

7/?

First | Previous | Next (wip)

AO3 Link

Luke and Rowan finally talk.

Contains: mentions of abuse, implied physical abuse, blood, gore, facial injury, vore, same size vore, depictions of a breakdown, male pred, male prey, and vore with plot.

Luke takes a deep breath. He’d finally managed to get back to normal size.

“You’re going back?” Oliver asked, hiding the worry from his voice. 

“I mean… Yeah. It’s my apartment. I don’t want to freeload off of you.” Luke replied, rubbing his arm. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know. Just… I need to. He owes me an apology.” 

There wasn’t anything more to say than that. Yes, Luke deserved an apology from Rowan. He could admit that what Rowan did was uncalled for. He knew that deep down, there was a good person under there. Why else would he have opened up to him the first time? Rowan was just complicated. He was so sweet initially. There had to be a reason why he was being so rude. Luke just hadn’t found it yet. 

There wasn’t much for either of the two men to say to each other. Luke’s mind was set, and Oliver couldn’t do more for him. He’d already done a lot for Luke. The size shifter couldn’t ask for more from him. 

So, Luke left the ginger’s apartment and returned back to his own. Opening the door revealed a quiet, still room. The smell of something burning fills his nostrils, causing his nose to crinkle up. 

“Rowan?” Luke called out. 

“In the kitchen.” The predator replied with a raised voice. 

Curious, the shifter lifts an eyebrow before making his way over towards the kitchen. At the corner, he spotted Rowan throwing some dark-colored, hard cookies into the trash can. 

“Okay, so, I can see that opening the window didn’t work.” Rowan looked over to Luke as he approached, taking note of his disgusted expression. 

Silence filled the air. Rowan swallowed the lump in his throat. 

Laughter breaks the silence, catching the predator off guard. 

“Did you just burn fucking cookies?!” Luke snorts, holding his stomach in an attempt to contain his laughter. 

“It’s not…. a big deal!” Rowan’s face flushes. This was just like any cooking fuck up, honest. It just so happened that it also was supposed to be Luke’s apology cookies. 

“It’s okay, it’s not a problem. I can help you with the next batch.” Luke remains smiling, but Rowan shakes his head. 

“No, I can do it. It’s supposed to be for you.” The predator huffs. 

“For me? Why?” Luke asks, raising an eyebrow.

Rowan falls silent, looking over to the freshly stirred cookie batter in the freshly cleaned bowl. He turns back over to it, grabbing the ice cream scoop and stealing a ball of cookie dough, then hands the scoop to his roommate. 

“Because I’m an idiot and was rude to you. I-I shouldn’t have… done that. Yelled at you. I’m….” Rowan’s voice trails off as he stares at their hands. Luke takes the scoop, and the taller man looks back up to Luke’s freckled face. “I’m sorry.” 

“Wow.” Luke’s voice is flat and unemotive. It stings Rowan to hear. Luke tastes the cookie dough, and his eyes widen. “You’re…. really trying.” 

Luke ends up mumbling to himself, and it catches Rowan off guard. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Oh, um… Sorry.” Luke takes another lick of the dough. Soon, it’s gone, and he brings the scooper to the sink to clean it himself. “It’s just…. I dunno. Thank you. For apologizing.”

Rowan’s eyes widen, and he nods his head as he watches Luke, albeit awkwardly. He watches as he cleans the scooper, then dries it off, then brings it over to the bowl of batter. The size shifter hits Rowan’s hips with his own to knock him out of the way, throwing the predator off guard. Luke chuckles. 

“You don’t have to push me over!” The predator retorts playfully. 

“Clearly, I do. I don’t want the landlord accusing us of trying to commit arson.” Luke’s smile turns cocky. “I’ll show you the proper way to do this, deal?” 

Rowan swallows his pride and groans. 

“Fiiine.”

. . . 

After Luke pulls the final batch of cookies out of the oven, Rowan’s green hues stare at the plate of perfectly baked, soft chocolate chip cookies. At least he got the batter right. He couldn’t trust himself to get that right, but at least he did. Hell, even his apology wasn’t that bad, right? It made Luke laugh. Things would be okay, right? 

…. So why did he want to put a shrunken Luke on top of one of these and eat him? He’s sweet. Like a cherry. It would be nice… 

The predator shakes his head in an attempt to shove the thought out of his brain. He can’t have pred-related thoughts right now. 

“Gonna let this sit for a bit. Have you tried one, yet?” Luke’s voice chimes in. 

“Huh? Oh, no… They smell incredible, though.” Rowan perks up, folding his arms. 

The size-shifter places the cookie tray on the top of the stove to let them sit for a few minutes. He turns the hot often off, then turns back around to stare at his strange roommate. Looking through the kitchen window, it looked like the sun was going to set soon. Had they been baking for that long? 

“Can you still smell anything burnt?” Asks Luke. 

“Uh….” With a few sniffs of the air, Rowan tilts his head as he attempts to snuff out any old burnt cookie smell…. Which he couldn’t find. “Nope, I think we got it all.” 

“Good.”

“Good.”

…. 

The pair stare at the floor. 

Luke can’t help but wonder what he tastes like to Rowan between the silence. He recalls Rowan calling him sweet. Like a cherry. Was that true, or just his fugue? 

This is way too awkward now. 

So much silence. 

The shifter reaches for a cookie, then grabs another, and shoves the second one into Rowan’s mouth. Rowan’s eyes widen in shock, and he steps back. Luke laughs, running out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“Hey! You little shit!” Rowan calls out between chewing on the cookie and laughing. He uses his hands to catch the crumbs. Soon after, he runs after the little shit. 

“They’re supposed to be my apology cookies, I can do whatever I want with them!” Luke laughs. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works-!!” The predator gives chase towards the shorter man. 

It doesn’t take long for Rowan to catch up to Luke of course. There’s only so many places he can escape to in this apartment of theirs. Rowan grabs his wrist, and Luke turns around and laughs. 

“You can’t—!” Luke’s interrupted by Rowan grabbing his other wrist, and he’s quickly turned around. Laughing still, Luke attempts to fight his way out of the other’s grip.

“You little shit!!” Rowan smiles, fighting against Rowan’s arms as he attempts to fight and pull himself away. Laughter echoes all throughout the room. 

The two wrestle for a bit. Going back and forth between Luke and Rowan attempting to pull and push each other away between fits of laughter. Eventually, Luke’s legs give out, and….. 

“Shit—!!”

A loud “thud” hits the floor, and Rowan’s eyes are wide, letting go of Luke’s hands as he falls down with him. He lands over on top of Luke, and attempts to stop his fall by catching himself with his hands on either side of the shifter’s head. 

Despite everything that had just occurred, Luke was still laughing. He landed on his back, sure, but it didn’t stop his laughter. He wasn’t sure what was so funny, but… 

Finally, Luke calms down. He looks straight up, staring into Rowan’s eyes. 

Rowan’s expression is worried, and his eyes are wide. This moment…. 

This moment, Luke realizes Rowan is right on top of him. His face flushes deep red.

Suddenly, Rowan realizes the same. His own face flushes, and Luke presses his hand into Rowan’s chest to press and push the predator away. Rowan chokes, pulling himself away and sitting on the floor next to his roommate. 

“So…. Apology accepted?” The predator asks nervously, rubbing his neck.

“Hm…. Apology accepted, big guy.” Luke smiles, sticking his tongue out. 

. . .

Luke lays in bed in his room, staring up at the ceiling. 

Across the hall in the other bedroom, Rowan is doing the same thing. 

The two boys struggle with their thoughts. 

Luke thinks that he wants to feel Rowan swallow him down again. He wants to see the inside of Rowan’s mouth. The inside of his throat. The inside of his stomach. He wants to hear Rowan’s body react to the foreign presence of another person’s body within it. Not just any body though, Luke’s body. 

Rowan thinks to himself about how delicious Luke is. How his sweet scent fills the apartment they share. How perfect he seemed to fit within his belly. How perfectly shaped his middle was. How… sated his hunger was. 

There’s something so poetic about this, Luke thinks. About the fact that he cannot sleep while thinking endlessly about the boy he likes. It’s almost like a fairytale. Like a story. But he isn’t part of some story. Not one of those plays where they end up together in the end. 

In what world would eating people be something to bond over, anyway? …. In what world did Luke realize he was into that? 

This is such a rare thing to obsess over. Yet…. 

Sitting up, Luke stares over to his bedroom door. Maybe… Just maybe, they can…. 

Would Rowan allow that? Would Rowan accept? He made it clear he didn’t want to do that again. That he didn’t want to eat Luke again, but maybe they can talk. Maybe…

Maybe…..

… Did Rowan want to talk? 

( … Did Luke want to talk? )

Rowan’s stomach growls in the darkness of his room. 

He never said enough to Luke, he knows that. How could he? How can he find the words to tell Luke that he feels like the biggest monster—The biggest freak in the world? He is one. Luke wouldn’t understand, or he does and he’s just hiding his terror. 

But why would he be so adamant about trying to talk to him and to get to know him if… If he was terrified, Oliver wouldn’t have yelled at him like that. Luke wouldn’t have accepted his “apology cookies.” 

Rowan covers his eyes with his face, groaning. 

“Why is it so hard to just talk to you…?” He mumbles to himself. 

( Luke deserves better. )

Maybe Rowan deserves better. 

Maybe, just maybe, Luke thinks, I can be that better.

With his mind set, Luke stands up and walks out of his bedroom. 

. . .

A gentle knock at the door is enough to bring Rowan out of his mind. 

“… Rowan?” It chimes in. It’s Luke’s voice. He sounds tired. “Can… I came in? I want to talk. If… If that’s okay.” 

Rowan doesn’t respond for a second, instead blinking with wide eyes in response. Luke… wants to talk? This is real? Not a dream?

“Oh… Um…. Yeah, come in.” Rowan finally says, and the doorknob turns. The door opens, revealing Luke’s tired face. What time is it, anyway? And what are the chances that both of them are awake at such a time? 

Luke approaches, closing the door behind him. Out of courtesy, maybe. There’s nobody in the apartment but them. 

“So…” Luke starts, cutting himself off. His gaze falls to the floor as he stops just before the edge of Rowan’s bed. “I, um…. can’t sleep, so I was thinking I should talk to you about what’s on my mind.” 

The predator stares at his roommate in silence, nodding. He pulls his blanket down as he listens. 

“Yeah… Go ahead.” He responds. 

“O-okay… Uh… I wanted to… talk about everything. Involving….” Luke’s face flushes as he begins to talk, realizing how embarrassing this is. “… You eating me. Please.”

Luke’s voice sounds so desperate. It throws off Rowan. Does he… 

“I want you to eat me.” 

Rowan chokes. He was thinking it, sure, but the idea that Luke actually asked it was enough to throw him off. He didn’t even try to sugarcoat it or walk around it. 

Luke is being serious. Dead serious. 

“But—…. Why?” Rowan asks, his brows furrowing. 

“I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about you eating me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since the hike…. I know that’s weird, but please... Let me be a meal for you.” The pair make eye contact as Luke speaks. The other’s voice is deeply serious. He desires more than anything to be eaten. 

Rowan’s stomach growls in response, and Rowan places a hand over it in response. He can’t even lie and say he isn’t hungry. He can’t lie and say that he wasn’t just obsessively thinking about swallowing his roommate down again. 

“… Okay.” Rowan complies. 

Relief spills across the room between the two men. Of course it did. They both want this. To be eaten. To eat. 

Luke, albeit hesitantly, sits on the edge of Rowan’s bed. He stares at the other’s face, scanning it in an attempt to read his expression. 

“How, uh… Do you want to do this?” The size shifter asks. 

“Full size. Please. I… I ne—, no… want to eat you at full size.” Rowan replies. 

Luke’s face flushes. He looks down to the sheets and blanket of Rowan’s bed. Did Rowan enjoy it? Eating him? 

Luke nods his head, and the two men stare at each other as moonlight gently seeps through the window in Rowan’s room. 

Rowan’s stomach growls again, and he winces. It doesn’t hurt, but it means that he really should eat Luke. The predator moves forward, approaching the other. His hands reach up for Luke’s shoulders. 

“You’re sure about this?” Rowan huffs, “You really want to be eaten?” 

“Yes, Please. Please… I need it for my own sanity.” Luke replies, holding himself still. 

Rowan is taken aback by this, but pulls Luke closer. Their faces are lined up perfectly with each other. The space between them lessens. Rowan looks over his roommate in the darkness. He sniffs the air, taking in Luke’s irresistible scent. His fingers play with the fabric of Luke’s shirt, and without hesitation, Rowan opens his mouth. With sharp teeth on display, Luke gazes down the upon maw. The back of his predator’s throat. Moonlight can’t gently illuminate the space of his mouth like it can the rest of the bedroom. Luke’s hands grab the other’s sides, and he inches his face closer to Rowan’s mouth. Waiting for each other… Waiting for the inevitable. 

With a nervous swallow, Rowan commits, strands of saliva parting in his mouth as he gently guides Luke closer, and wraps his lips around his head. He wants to eat him. He needs to eat him. So fucking badly. He’s so hungry. 

Rowan swallows around Luke’s head as it reaches the back of his throat, locking his fate for the night. Luke’s eyes shut tightly as he feels the top of his head slip past the predator’s throat. Butterflies flutter in his stomach, and he tries to stop himself from squeaking. His hands ball the other’s shirt tightly, and he can’t believe this is real. His face must be red already. Rowan’s swallow was loud. Then it happens again, and Rowan swallows Luke’s head again, and the swallow is desperate and loud. 

The shifter is pulled further inside the mouth, his face disappearing past Rowan’s lips. The predator takes a few deep breaths through his nose as his chest begins to purr. 

Luke’s favor is as sweet as it was the first two times he ate him. His tongue brushes along his meal’s face, and his stomach grumbles impatiently for its food. For Luke. Who knew how perfect Luke was for food? He fit so wonderfully before. He’ll fit so perfectly again. 

Letting go of Luke’s shoulders, Rowan decides to make a huge leap. He needs to eat his roommate. His Luke. His prey. A huge, forceful push mixed with a swallow as he holds his upper arms guides Luke’s entire head and shoulders into his mouth. Luke lets out a yelp as he’s pulled far, letting go of the predator’s sides. Rowan’s gullet wraps tightly around the shorter man’s face, massaging him gently and filling his ears with the sounds of powerful swallows and purring. The esophagus pushes and kneads against his face and cheeks, attempting to massage and guide his form down. 

Luke faced this in the past only once, but it was far too fast for him to process properly. Rowan ate him at full size the first time. Though tight, it’s nice… Rowan’s insides seem content with his form inside of him, and it seems Rowan himself agrees with that assessment. Another loud swallow sends Luke’s head past Rowan’s collarbone. The beating of Rowan’s heart is right next to his right ear. He’s so close to Rowan’s actual life force. Rowan’s lungs inhale, then exhale. They inhale, then exhale. If he listens closely, he can even hear Rowan’s purrs synchronize with his breathing… Is this what it means to love? Luke’s own heart skips a beat at the thought. His eyes remain closed as the song of his roommate’s body serenades his ears. 

Rowan’s mind kicks fully into autopilot now that he’s caught this delicacy. His stomach craves Luke’s form. It yells out and cries, hollow groans demanding that Luke enter inside it. Rowan swallows again, sending Luke further inside him. Desperate swallows lock the man’s arms to his sides as the predator holds onto them and pushes his prey further down his throat. 

Luke’s head is forced through a small entrance and shoved into a slightly larger chamber. The dark chamber grumbles and groans in response to its new guest, meaning he begins to fill up Rowan’s starving stomach. More of him is desperately swallowed up and forced inside. Rowan leans his head back, lifting Luke’s lower half into the air and off the bed. The predator’s hands press down on Luke’s butt to force him inside his throat, causing Luke to fluster as his face is squished up against the stomach wall. His hands going there of all places throw him off. This whole situation is enough to fluster him, but it’s Rowan’s hands that end him.

Rowan’s middle begins to extend and grow out with Luke now filling up his stomach, and another swallow pulls the shifter’s hips and butt down his throat, leaving his legs left to get down. Rowan’s deep, subtle purrs overwhelm Luke, and he can’t believe how happy he’s making the predator…. It almost makes him feel better about such a selfish request.

Rowan begins to rush, his hunger overtaking him. He wants to get all of Luke down as he feels him enter his core. As his belly grows and stretches outwards. As his shirt begins to rise along the curved middle of his center.

A big, heavy, and loud swallow gets down Luke’s thighs. Gravity and hunger do wonders for getting such large prey down. Rowan’s hands reach for his stomach, placing them on both sides as it grows larger and larger. It forces his legs to either side of the organ as it presses down on the cushion of the mattress as his meal enters more of the organ. His stomach lets out a very audible groan as more and more of the shifter is deposited inside him. 

Luke’s entire being is squished into fleshy walls. The internal folds wrap and hold him in place as he is continuously being shoved inside. Rowan swallows more of him, pulling him out from cold air and into the warm flesh of the predator’s insides. Luke’s eyes shut as his face squeezes into the flesh in front of him. Internal folds continue to spread and push out as Rowan’s noisy stomach and loud swallows welcome him inside. 

The internal organ wraps around Luke as if to hold him in a tight embrace, accepting all of him. Another loud and hard swallow from above forces more of Luke’s legs into Rowan’s throat, and it almost feels like Rowan is telling himself to hurry up with how fast he’s being eaten. Definitely not as fast as the hike, but he’s still desperate. Is Rowan always like this when he eats others? Or is it just for him? Is… Luke that filling? 

The thought makes Luke tense up. Rowan wouldn’t think of him that way. He doesn’t even know what Rowan’s sexuality is. For all he knows, Rowan is straight. 

Rowan swallows again, pulling Luke’s calves down. The bottom of the shifter’s legs and feet remain out, though it doesn’t last as another swallow pulls him down again. Rowan purrs, brushing his tongue along Luke’s skin as the final, hard swallow pulls Luke’s feet past his lips and down his throat. 

The predator’s throat muscles massage the rest of his meal’s body downwards, sending him past his throat, his chest, and into his stomach. Rowan exhales, lowering his chin and keeping his eyes closed. He feels the rest of Luke get stuffed inside his stomach and shift around, and he burps loudly as he finally finishes his meal.

Luke sits inside him, now. Right where he wants him… 

“… Wow…” Luke’s muffled voice speaks through layers of flesh and skin. He shifts again, pressing down against the cushion of the mattress, Rowan’s legs, and even his hands. In fact, his stomach distends so far that his shirt can’t even cover it anymore. It’s all folded up at the top, right where he sees Luke’s head suddenly pop up after moving around into a better position. 

“Wow, what?” Rowan responds, realizing where his hands are. He removes them in hopes that Luke didn’t notice and uses them to support his weight, placing them on the bed as he shifts his legs to straighten out. 

“Just… wow.” Luke takes a deep breath. He curls up inside Rowan’s belly, sinking into the stomach wall behind him. It’s warm and comfortable. Just like he remembers it. “I’m inside your stomach again.” 

Rowan’s eyebrows furrow, looking down at his large middle. His head tilts, though he hasn’t stopped purring. A sign to his comfort, perhaps. He does know that he’s not sure what to say in response. He doesn’t understand why Luke made such a strange request. Why would he ask to be eaten? Why is he reacting this way? Does he enjoy it? Is it a game to him? 

Rowan wants to cry and scream. To tell Luke to just tell him what he’s thinking. He’s a monster, surely Luke understands that?! 

Luke nuzzles a nearby wall, and he hears Rowan gently gasp in response. His heartbeat is so rhythmic, his lungs breathe in and out. The organ that holds him in place grumbles and groans in response to his existence inside of it. Rowan’s voice comes down on him from above. It’s so nice. This reminds him so much of the first time they did this, despite how ridiculous it was at the time. The shifter remembers how comfortable it was. How easy it was to want to fall asleep. Maybe he can fall asleep now… 

“Luke?” 

“… Yeah?” 

In the darkness of Rowan’s bedroom, Rowan scoots backwards on his bed to lean up against the wall and his pillows, supporting his back. 

“… Nevermind.” 

“Oh.” 

Silence. 

Rowan closes his eyes. Luke shifts silently. 

“Um…. How big do I make your stomach?” Luke’s voice is quiet, and it would be hard to hear him had they not been the only two people in the room. 

Rather, had Rowan not been the only person in the room. 

“Shit, huge, I think. You’re at full size, so my stomach really sticks out. My bed frame creaked a bit while I was eating you.” Rowan’s hand mindlessly reaches over to the top of his belly, resting on it and gently rubbing his finger against it in a circling motion. “My shirt can’t cover you. It would take a while to get up and walk around, but I could handle it.” 

“Damn… You really are strong.” Luke speaks calmly, trying to hide the embarrassment in his voice. 

“Yeah? You think so?” 

“Oh, uh… I googled a lot about preds the other day, y’know? I learned… a lot. A lot, a lot. The strength was one of them.” Luke replies, and it almost sounds like he’s speaking through his hands. 

“You… googled… what?” Rowan looks directly at his stomach. 

“I-I wanted to understand you. To know more about you. You weren’t giving me anything, so I took matters into my own hands.” The man beneath Rowan’s skin sounds a bit more confident this time with his words.

Though what the shifter speaks of confuses him and hits Rowan hard. He thinks his heart sinks. 

Of course Rowan didn’t give him anything. He thought the distance would be better for the both of them. He didn’t want Luke to see him  as the freak he truly is. But to go as far as looking into something like that… Why did he do that? Rowan was so rude to him. Rowan hurt Luke. Yet here he is, inside his stomach and trying to talk to him. 

Oliver’s voice echoes in the back of Rowan’s head. He really doesn’t deserve this. 

“I… don’t…. Why?” Rowan spits out weakly, defeated. 

“Is it… Weird to say it’s because I wanted to?” Luke replies. 

Rowan doesn’t answer, instead he stares directly at his stomach. Maybe it’s better this way. That Luke can’t see his face. That Luke remains his dinner for the night. 

“I… really hate myself, Luke. It fucking sucks being me.” The predator hiccups, inhaling sharply. “I-I feel so awful all the time. I see someone, and the first thing I think of is how delicious they smell, or what their flavor must be, or how hungry I am. I’m a fucking monster.”

Luke pauses, looking up. This isn’t the cool and mysterious jock that Luke first met when they moved in…. This is a broken man who’s just been crying for help this entire time. 

“Why…. Why do you think you’re a monster?” 

“Have you even thought about where you are right now, Luke? You’re literally inside my stomach, for the third time! I’ve eaten you three times, which is three times too many. I shouldn’t need to eat people, but I do, and it’s awful. If I don’t, it hurts, and I lose myself, and I just can’t control myself. But if I do eat someone, they’re trapped inside of me for however long I need and it’s weird. This isn’t… normal. There’s gotta be some way to fix this, so I can be normal… I don’t want to be like this my whole life…”

“Rowan, I—“

“Now, I’ve dragged you into my crazy world.” Rowan’s eyes swell with tears, and his vision becomes blurry. “I’ve pulled you into my bullshit. I-I thought… It was better to push you away so you wouldn’t have to get hurt by me, but I hurt you anyway, and I’m so, so sorry. I can never do anything right, you know? I can’t… I’m a freak, and I shouldn’t be eating people. I shouldn’t need this, but nothing as of late has felt right. You know, I… I ate someone the other day. After work. After I let you out again. I couldn’t stop thinking about being hungry, about eating you again. That’s not… normal, that isn’t me. I can usually go two weeks without needing to eat someone, but… I just couldn’t get it out of my head. So I paid him and I sat there on the ground, and it wasn’t right. I wasn’t sated. Nothing even worked to keep my hunger at bay. I-I can’t even…. I can’t do the one thing I’m not supposed to do the right way.” 

Tears stream down Rowan’s face, and he can’t contain his emotions anymore. He sobs, letting his tears overwhelm and cover his cheeks. This is embarrassing. He shouldn’t be crying. Not in front of Luke. This isn’t his responsibility, he shouldn’t have to deal with any of this. 

“Oh, Rowan…” Luke’s voice is so quiet, and he begins to stroke the inside of the predator’s stomach with his hand. It hurts him to hear the predator speak of himself in such a way, but it’s clear he has as many struggles as Luke does. He’s… just a broken man. “You’re not a monster… You’re not a freak. Predators… This is normal, you know? Rare, but… Normal.” 

Rowan doesn’t reply. He can’t. He can’t stop crying. 

“I don’t think you’re a monster, okay? I never have. I… really like this. Being eaten. If anything, I think that’s weirder than needing to eat people.” Luke chuckles lightly, continuing to rub the internal wall closest to him. “I… struggle, okay? I’m sorry for being so… forceful. I should’ve taken a slower approach. I shouldn’t have forced you into that hike with me. We wouldn’t be in this mess, but I’m glad we did, because I got to know you. Inside and out. Pun intended.” 

“If I wasn’t me, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place.” The predator insists. 

The image of his father, horrified of him, haunts his mind. His fist raised in defense, and the man stands tall over him. Rowan’s face hits the corner of the table, sharp wood and splinters crashing into his face and cutting his skin open. The wood digs in deep and Rowan falls to the floor before he can even process what just happened. His face stings, and blood trickles from the wound and onto the floor. The boy presses his fingers to his face, only to see blood drip down his hand. Tears fall fast down his face and make the wounds sting. 

The scars on the predator’s face sting ever so slightly at the memory, as if the skin holds the memory of that day. 

If Rowan wasn’t a predator, his parents wouldn’t have needed to be afraid of him. 

This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have agreed to eating Luke. Luke has to face the worst of Rowan, and it terrifies him. 

Luke looks down, closing his eyes as he hears the pain in Rowan’s voice. He continues to rub the side of the wall, remembering that Rowan asked him to keep doing that last time. He can attempt to comfort him in any way he thinks might help. Rowan’s breathing and heartbeat are so fast. He’s panicking and sobbing, squeezing the stomach walls against him. It’s really hard to imagine what got Rowan to think of himself this way. 

“… Rowan, I don’t care that you need to eat people. I don’t care that you ate me, okay? I saw you before I even knew you were one, and I thought you were so cool and interesting. Mysterious and secretive… I like that, y’know?” Luke speaks up as Rowan falls silent, “That’s why I brought you on the hike. Because I wanted to get to know this cool dude who is also my roommate.” 

The idea that someone could find him cool baffled Rowan. 

“But… why?” The predator asks. 

“I…. just wanted to.” Luke replies. 

That’s such a weird answer to Rowan. What if he’s lying? What if he’s just saying that? Nobody has ever thought that the fact that Rowan is a predator was ‘cool.’ Nobody. Even the people he bribed. 

“If you have to eat me to feel sated and satisfied, then I implore you to, okay? Listen, I just… You live here, too. You deserve to be comfortable, too. We can do something to make sure you have a schedule, or….” The shifter’s voice fades out. 

There’s a silence between the two as Luke hears a subtle purr from above. Rowan started purring, maybe in response to the internal rub? He even started breathing steadily. Maybe to calm himself down. 

“I researched predators, Rowan. I learned a lot. When I was at my computer I was actually reading about them. Before, y’know…” Luke clears his throat. “Anyway, I wanted to learn about you since you wouldn’t let me. There’s a lot… I think I can help you.” 

Rowan stares at his bloated belly, listening to Luke’s muffled words. Why did he research predators…? He didn’t need to, that’s so crazy to him. 

“You… You really want to?” Rowan asks. 

“… Yes, I do.” 

Another pause. 

“Can I share some struggles of my own?” Luke breaks the silence. 

Rowan nods, but remembers Luke can’t see him do so. 

“Uh… yes. Yeah… Go ahead.” Rowan replies. It’s only fair. He clears his throat. 

Luke nods, pulling his hand away from the stomach wall he was rubbing at. 

Rowan tries to hide his disappointment at the sudden stop. 

“So… My mom died when I was young. She was the shifter of the family, and my dad wasn’t. I didn’t know much about what it was like to be a shifter, only that I used to get stuck tiny all the time without any control of it. ‘Used to’ is now ‘still does,’ but that’s besides the point.” Luke tries to chuckle in an attempt to make it seem lighthearted. He doesn’t want Rowan to feel bad for triggering him. “My dad took me to doctors and all these things to see if there was anything wrong physically with me, but there wasn’t. It was just a lot of emotion from losing my mom. From being bullied. It’s weird when you’re shrunk down with no explanation, and elementary school kids are just… assholes, y’know?”

Luke shifts inside of the organ, pressing down on the stomach folds underneath him in an attempt to sit up straight. His feet press out as he does so, causing Rowan to gasp lightly. Luke thinks he feels a hand brush over his movement. 

“So… I was alone, until Oliver came around. He pushed people away from me and picked me up to bring me somewhere to calm down. Somewhere that wasn’t loud. He was my only friend. My dad thought that he could understand what was happening to me, but he couldn’t. He’s not a shifter, he’ll never know. I overheard him once, cursing my mother’s name for leaving him with me. It’s… definitely not on the extreme level that you faced, but… I just want you to know that I get what it’s like being someone who thinks that what makes you different makes you a freak.” Luke huffs, leaning back and letting the flesh of Rowan’s stomach wrap him tightly. To engulf him and keep him in place. He closes his eyes, realizing that the warmth of Rowan’s insides made him sleepy once again. “That… I don’t want… to see you suffer.”

Luke speaks through a quiet yawn, and Rowan leans back against the pillows underneath him. Luke’s weight shifts gently as he does so, but the predator keeps his hands on his exposed stomach to hold it in place. To hold Luke. 

“I…. Thank you, Luke.” Rowan mumbles, closing his eyes. He tries to imagine a small, younger Luke. He sees himself next to Luke, both the same age, terrified of their bodies. He remembers Oliver mentioning such a thing happening to him. They both have things they can’t control about themselves. 

Maybe, just maybe, they could help each other out. 

“Don’t… Don’t… Worry about it, yeah?” Luke’s eyes close as they’re too heavy to keep open. 

“Well, I’m going to anyway, but thanks.” Rowan chuckles gently. He feels himself wanting to fall asleep, and the tiredness in Luke’s voice doesn’t help. The quiet yawn he suddenly hears makes Rowan yawn himself. 

“… Good night, big guy.” Luke mumbles, and it’s almost too quiet for Rowan to hear. 

“Who are you calling ‘big guy’?” Rowan feigns offense, soon leaning back and resting his head on his pillow. “Good night, Luke.”