#also i love the coffee bit. fucking amazing

[sophiiwrites]

it's raining love ft. na jaemin

“you think love is hard? try predicting the fucking weather. that’s right. nature’s my own worst enemy.”

word count: 4.8k (it's one word away from 4.9 omg)

genre/archetypes: loosely inspired by forecasting love and weather, romance story, lots and lots of fluff, a little bit of comedy, adorably sweet and definitely tooth rotting :) also there’s going to be wrong terminology and stupid weather mistakes and i’m so sorry :((

synopsis: you and na jaemin are both meteorologists, working at the korea meteorological administration. of course, you love your job and the people working there: however, it becomes hard to deal with when you're constantly working overtime with no pay and a jaemin crisis in your brain.

notes: i love this story so much and i loved working on it, it’s near and dear to my heart! i hope you guys enjoy it too! i think it’s super fun, although i probably bungled most of the weather terminology lol

warnings/potential triggers: none! a little bit of maturity with the mention of a condom, some swearing

taglist: @lovesuhng

Sometimes, you hated the weather. 

Which was ironic, because you worked with weather on a daily basis. As a meteorologist, you spent most of your time poring over satellite data and maps of wind charts: so, you spent most of your time with weather. But, you supposed, this was natural. Everyone hated their job once they started working in it. 

When you were in sixth grade, you and Na Jaemin, your childhood best friend, had stumbled across the concept of meteorology. You both were instantly sucked into the magical world of predicting weather. When you first successfully listed out the weather conditions for the next seven days, you felt like a god. 

Now? You were so done with your job. The lack of staff at the weather station meant that you were working overtime constantly. Today was the first day that you had managed to negotiate an ending time of 9 pm. You loved predicting weather, scanning the various charts to figure out what was going on in the atmosphere. But when you were forced to do this for hours each day running on low sleep? You had low motivation to do anything. Example: yesterday, you squealed over the vending machine restocking.

The. Vending. Machine. Restocking.

And it didn’t help that Na Jaemin was constantly a fucking ray of sunshine. He never seemed to stop- not throughout high school, not throughout college, and certainly not now. You didn’t know what was powering him. Could it be ambition? No, Jaemin was too nice for that. Was he a power generator? Did he only subside on the goodness of his heart, the power of his internal sun, and cups of coffee with eight shots of espresso?

Regardless of whatever he subsisted on, Na Jaemin was constantly there for you, and you appreciated that. But sometimes, he could be incredibly smothering even when you wanted to be left alone. Like now.

“Jaemin, I don’t need a break from work,” you sighed tiredly for the umpteenth time.

“You do!” Jaemin exclaimed. “Look at you, slumped down in your chair. You look very, very tired.”

You glared at him.

“I know you mean well, but that was incredibly insulting.”

Jaemin winced. 

“Oops, sorry. You look amazing! I promise I’ll take you anywhere you want. A bar? Done. Club? Done. Home? Done. To the park even when it’s raining because you want to sit under the patio and eat ice cream even when I told you you’ll get a stomach ache from it and then you do get a stomach ache? Done. I won’t even baby you! I’ll be super, super good.”

You roll your eyes.

“Jaemin, I just need to work, get money, go home, and watch a movie. With ramen. And ice cream.”

“Done!” Jaemin exclaimed happily 

“No- I didn’t mean-” you groaned and slumped further down in your chair. Secretly, you were enjoying Jaemin’s efforts, but you weren’t going to tell Jaemin that. 

Jaemin smiled at you.

“Alright, see you soon!” He blew a kiss towards you.

You blinked, startled. Jaemin winked and walked away to his office, where he managed the seven day and ten day weather reports. Rubbing your eyes, you sighed tiredly, checking to see if Karina and Minjeong, your friends and fellow meteorologists, had noticed your interaction. Relieved they hadn’t, you hid your red face behind a rain chart. You didn’t want to deal with Jaemin’s shenanigans right now.

Jaemin had always been a naturally flirty person, but recently, he had been ramping it up. From winks to “accidental” touches, he had done a lot of things for the past two months. Of course, Karina and Minjeong had noticed incredibly quickly, and they wouldn’t stop teasing you about it. You, on the other hand, felt increasingly disoriented and confused by Jaemin’s actions.

To tell the truth, you liked Jaemin. But you couldn’t help but remember a specific day in the office. A day when Jaemin, to another meteorologist who was asking whether Jaemin liked you or not, replied:

“Her? Obviously not, you should totally ask her out!” 

The meteorologist had then asked you out the following day, but you refused. 

And Jaemin denying he liked you hadn’t happened once, either. This had happened not once, not twice, not even three times, but ten. Ten times. 

“No, I don’t like her in that way!” Jaemin would always say. 

Of course, Jaemin was never rude about not liking you- except for what he said in the office (you were still salty about that). But you didn’t have the courage to ask what Jaemin meant by his words. 

Ever since the office incident, you had come to realize two things. One: you liked Jaemin. Two: you would never ask him to date you. Your friendship with Jaemin was too precious to risk asking him a question like that.

So even though Jaemin had ramped up all of his suspicious and flirty behaviors, you were too worried about ruining your friendship and too tired over work to reciprocate. Although, you mused, it would be nice to spend some time with Jaemin today. You hadn’t really done so in a while.

Returning to the satellite data, you consulted a few maps of today’s weather, ultimately deciding that there wouldn’t be a lot of change and hoping you were right so you wouldn’t have to stare at the maps again. Allowing your face to cool down, you then scooted your chair over to Karina’s desk. She was sipping on coffee and typing up a weather report for her boss.

“Hey, you can probably say the weather conditions for tomorrow are going to be like today’s.”

Karina smiled.

“Really? That’s amazing, because my boyfriend’s planning on taking me to a beach! If the weather’s this nice tomorrow-” Karina sighed dreamily. “It’ll be absolutely perfect.”

Minjeong, who sat across Karina, poked her head over the desk wall. 

“Did someone say a beach date? Karina, are you entering your lovestruck era?” All three of you giggled.

“Oooooh, I haven’t seen you entering this era since that man,” you replied, chuckling as you returned to your desk. Karina groaned behind you.

“We don’t speak of my mistakes!” she yelled. You laughed.

“Hey, I noticed Jaemin’s been talking to you a lot recently,” Winter added, smirking slightly. You rolled your eyes.

“We’re just friends! And we’ve been friends since kindergarten! I know everything about that man. There’s a reason why I’m not attracted to him,” you replied.

Winter smirked widely. “You should look at yourself when you talk to him. Your eyes go starry and your cheeks flush. Like right now!”

You patted your cheeks, surprised to find they were still a little red. You thought they’d cooled down. Maybe not.

“It’s hot in here!” you complained. “My cheeks are always red!”

“Remember that time Minjeong added too much blush to her cheeks and she looked like a clown?” Karina snickered. Minjeong rushed to hit Karina, complaining as she did so. 

“We don’t talk about that!”

Karina smiled, and turned to you. “Thanks for the tips about tomorrow’s weather! Definitely double check again, though.”

You groaned.

“I know, I know- but remember that guy who didn’t double check any of his work? He got fired soon after for making a bunch of blunders,” Karina added.

“I don’t make that many mistakes!” you exclaimed, but you knew Karina was right. You were tired and ready to go home, but it was important you finish your tasks for the day so that the weather reports could go out soon. And it was important you finished your tasks correctly. You breathed in and smiled. Of course, your work was always annoying, but the people here always made it better. Karina and Minjeong were always joking around but uber-talented when it came to weather reports- and negotiating with the higher-ups for more snacks in the office.

Sighing, you double-checked the weather reports again: and that’s when you noticed something strange. In one of the upper-air weather maps, there was a weird wind pattern breaking off of the others. 

This was strange. You quickly did a quick search of the upper-air wind patterns for the last seven days, then the last two weeks, then the last month. Your brain went into meteorologist mode. The wind hadn’t moved like this for a while. It was summer, so the prevailing winds should have been moving southwesterly in South Korea. Instead, the wind was moving towards the east. 

You gasped. This could only mean a squall, and that meant active weather instead of the bludgeoning heat Seoul had received all week.

“Karina! I need to show you something!” you exclaimed.

Karina rolled her chair over to your desk, where you showed her the strange wind pattern that meant active weather. Karina groaned.

“A storm? Oh, man, my date is absolutely ruined. That’s a large cold front too. Oh man, there’s definitely going to be thunderstorms tomorrow!”

You patted her back.

“Just move the date inside. Rain and wind can be incredibly romantic and also very aesthetic- provided you’re inside instead of outside. If you’re outside, things get dicey,” you reassured Karina.

“Oh! I can schedule a restaurant or something! We can eat at a fancy restaurant!” Then, Karina smiled knowingly.

“See? This is exactly why I tell you to check your work,” Karina beamed. You rolled your eyes, and Karina rolled back over to her desk, looking for a way to salvage her date. Meanwhile, you prepared your data and walked over to your supervisor, Minhyung. After presenting the data to him, he nodded.

“That’s a good thing to catch. Gunning for that new supervisor position?” he teased as he typed up the data, sending the update throughout the building.

You smiled weakly.

“No, just trying to predict the weather. So, mostly failing,” you sighed, returning back to your seat. Finally, you were done for the day. The clock struck nine, and people around you started to pack up.

“Come with us for drinks!” Karina said, holding out her hand to you. You shook your head.

“Jaemin and I are going to go watch a movie.”

Karina and Minjeong giggled to each other. 

“Just make sure you bring a con-”

“Okay!” you exclaimed as you pushed them out the door. “Bye now. Have fun!” You could hear Karina and Minjeong’s giggles as you gathered your stuff. Jaemin walked over to you and offered to carry your bag as you put on your coat.

“Did you call a taxi?” Jaemin asked as you both walked out of the office.

“Yup! It should be coming…” you consulted your watch. “Now!”

The taxi pulled up, and you both got in. You pulled up a movie recommendations list after telling the driver where to go, and debated over what movie you should watch together.

“I personally think we should watch something fun and cozy. It’s Friday! Let’s relax or something!” Jaemin exclaimed, pointing to a movie on the screen.

“Those are so boring, Nana. Come on, let’s watch an action movie or something. Mission Impossible, maybe?”

Jaemin pouted.

“But I want to watch something cute!”

You sighed.

“Fine, we’ll watch Barbie or whatever.”

“Barbie’s not a cute movie! Well, yes, it’s incredibly heartwarming, but it sends a deeper message about the role of women in society!”

As Jaemin continued to talk, you leaned back in your seat, smiling. 

You felt a sense of belonging with Jaemin. A sense of happiness. He was the friend who comforted you, the parent who took care of you, and he wasn’t afraid to let you know when you messed up. At this point, he wasn’t even a friend. He was family, and it felt really nice to talk to him after a long day at work. 

Maybe Karina was right. Maybe he would make a good boyfriend.But you had always kept your friendship like this, and you weren’t about to ruin it by asking Jaemin that question.

But the question lingered in your head throughout the night. It lingered throughout the movie, it lingered throughout your shower, and it became particularly insistent when Jaemin decided he’d sleep over. You had Jaemin’s clothes in your dresser. This was close to boyfriend and girlfriend behavior. At this point, it was that kind of behavior. Jaemin even decided to sleep in the same bed with you, and you realized something.

Maybe you should ask Jaemin if he liked you or not. After all, who sleeps in the same bed with their platonic friend?

You pushed it out of your head. You weren’t brave enough to ask, not after that incident. You reiterated to yourself that you were comfortable with your friendship.

The next morning, you hurriedly rushed into the office, five minutes late. It wasn’t until you both walked to the office doors that you realized the implications of showing up at the office with Jaemin next to you. You ordered Jaemin to go in first, and he did so confusedly.

As a result, you were five minutes late, and you swore you could see Minhyung giving you a pointed look as you slid into your seat. You winced and turned immediately to your work. Pulling up the wind charts for the day’s weather, you sighed and settled into a haze of weather predictions, data, and satellite images.

Sure enough, it started raining soon. You smiled a bit, pleased with your correct prediction, and continued on. Hopefully the people of South Korea remembered to bring umbrellas.

Around lunchtime, Karina came over with a worried look on her face.

“What’s up?” you asked, setting the charts aside. You hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary so far. That meant less work for you.

“Something’s happening over here,” Karina said, asking you to turn to the ocean real-time data. You looked closely at the computer screen. The picture depicted made you gasp.

“Oh no,” you murmured as you looked. “Is it a storm system? Does this mean a typhoon?” 

Karina nodded.

“The conditions are perfect too. Warm water above 26 degrees, great distance from the Equator, low vertical wind shear- the tropical wave is present too. This is bad.” 

“How are the wind speeds?” you asked.

“Gaining quickly, and they definitely aren’t slowing down,” Karina replied. “I really hope this doesn’t hit us- oh man, I was just checking the ocean currents and zoomed out to see what was happening!”

“And thank goodness you did, because this is big,” you replied. “I’m going to go tell Minhyung. He needs to get this down to the Natural Disasters station right away.” You scrambled to tell Minhyung while Karina kept looking at the data for any new signs. 

“Minhyung!”

“What?” Minhyung asked, setting aside his work. “You look worried.”

“We have a possible typhoon situation,” you said, showing Minhyung the picture on your laptop. “Can you look?”

Minhyung looked. 

“What’s the situation? Are the necessary requirements all present?”

You rattled the list off, and Minhyung’s face became anxious. He nodded and moved to call the Natural Disasters station downstairs. 

“They knew about this already and are looking into it,” Minhyung replied after he finished the call. 

“Do they need any help?” you asked. 

“They should be fine, but go and notify the seven and ten day weather report. Plus, see if they need any help. Karina and Minjeong have got it handled over here. It’s going to develop and make landfall quickly under these conditions. Besides, you need a little variation in your work.”

You looked at Minhyung quizzically, and he beamed.

“Everyone needs a little variety from time to time! I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of down recently, and it’ll do you some good to help out, get some pep back into your step. Helping others releases endorphins!”

You smiled at Minhyung, touched that your supervisor cared so much about you. As you walked quickly down to Natural Disasters, you almost crashed into Jaemin as you did.

“What’s going on?” he asked, and you told him everything. Jaemin’s face looked shocked. 

“Is there an estimated time of arrival? How close is the typhoon to South Korea?” Jaemin asked.

“Not yet, but ask Natural Disasters. They’ll probably have an answer for you.” 

Jaemin smiled at you, and you frowned quizzically.

“I’m proud of you! You’re gonna save lives.”

You smiled.

“Thanks, but technically it was all Karina. Hopefully we can do something before it arrives.”

Jaemin nodded. “Yeah, maybe we can help Natural Disasters coordinate with public officials to evacuate and shore up beaches.”

You smiled and Jaemin pulled you in for a hug.

“Good job!” Jaemin said as he patted you on the back. You smiled, savoring the warmth of Jaemin’s body and the smell of his cologne. Friends definitely hugged each other, but for a moment, you let yourself imagine you and Jaemin were truly dating. 

Just then, Minjeong walked by, letting out a whistle at the two of you.

“Just date already!” she yelled, entering the bathroom. Both of your faces reddened, and Jaemin stepped back quickly, letting go of you first. You frowned slightly, disappointed. 

“I should go,” Jaemin stammered.

“Me too! Yeah, lots of, uh, stuff to do,” you said breathlessly. You walked quickly back to your desk, face red. You were flushed from Minjeong’s remark, but also a little confused at why Jaemin would step back so quickly. On one hand, you knew why he would. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by Jaemin’s actions.

In the afternoon, you avoided Minjeong and helped the Natural Disasters people make plans for the hurricane. You realized how hard it was to do so, and for a while, you were wholly focused on your work. So focused, in fact, that you forgot all about your gripes with your job. It did feel nice to do something and help others.

“We’ll have to add sandbags near these locations and evacuate the people living near here,” Yujin, the head of the Natural Disasters department, said. You nodded, taking a picture and adding it to the email. 

“How about we create some more reinforcements too? And we can air our typhoon checklist commercial on TV, reminding people to have an emergency kit ready and everything else,” you suggested.

Yujin nodded.

“That’s a great idea! In fact, why don’t you go check with TV to make sure they have something ready?”

You nodded, smiling. It really did feel good to help. 

You went down and checked in with the people working at the TV station, then came back up and continued to help Yujin with the preparations. At the end of the day, Yujin thanked you for your help, complimenting you on your work ethic, and walked you back to your desk, stopping at Minhyung’s on her way down.

You sat down, realizing that you hadn’t felt this content at work in ages. You felt refreshed, like you had a purpose, and you were eager to continue helping. Maybe that was what you should approach your work as: something that could help people. Your weather reports did make a difference. It informed people what to wear, whether to bring an umbrella, and what preparations they should take around the house.

You hadn’t really felt motivation in the past month, but you realized this could help you get out of your slump. Of course, it wasn’t a catch-all, but it helped you feel a little happier. Smiling, you got back to work with renewed energy.

You noticed Karina and Minjeong talking, and you listened in on their conversation. Minjeong revealed she had made plans for dinner, and you pressed her for all the details. 

“What does it matter? I’m not going to be able to go on it anyway,” Minjeong sighed, scrolling through the recently recorded temperatures. “I’ve canceled already. This hurricane situation is more important, although I would love to go on a date right now. And the reservation! I spent good money on that, and I can’t even cancel it? What a waste.”

Suddenly, Jaemin walked out to the printer, and Minjeong gasped. You narrowed your eyes, mentally preparing for what was coming next.

“You two should go to dinner!” Minjeong shrieked, causing Jaemin to look over, confused. Minjeong hushed her voice. 

“Come on, do it for me? I can’t cancel the reservation, and Minhyung’s going to let you go. You predicted that rainstorm the other day, and you helped Karina predict that hurricane. Also, I overheard Yujin’s conversation with Minhyung. Yujin was positively gushing over you! He’s sure to let you go.”

Karina smirked too.

“I’m even willing to give you all the credit for the hurricane- provided you go on that dinner date with Jaemin.”

You shook your head.

“I’m needed here! I can’t just abandon you two.” Something about your meeting with Jaemin being called a date made you feel antsy and anxious. Like you were afraid of something. Besides, you had just found your new motivation for work.

“What, we suggest a date with Jaemin and suddenly you’re all goody-two shoes? You’ve complained about this job for the past month, so here’s a break for you! Please, do it for me?” Minjeong pleaded. “I will beg. I will get down on my knees and plead.”

You frowned.

“Fine. I will. But Jaemin has to say yes first.”

You walked over to Jaemin, hoping he wouldn’t say yes.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me? You asked.

“Totally!” Jaemin beamed, and you put your head in your hands. 

“I just have to ask Minhyung first,” you said, praying to all the gods out there that he wouldn’t say yes. You walked over to Minhyung, Jaemin trailing after you.

“Minhyung, is it possible I can take some time off to have dinner with Jaemin tonight?”

Minhyung stared at you two. Behind your back, Karina and Minjeong held up signs that said “do it for the love!”

Minhyung smiled.

“Totally! I understand the importance of spending time with your significant other. Yes, you can go. Just remember to make up those hours some time this week.”

“Significant other?” you squawked while Jaemin smiled cheerfully at Minhyung. As you walked out the door, Jaemin, Minjeong, and Karina all cheered while you closed your eyes. This was not going to be easy.

“What do you want to eat?” you asked, looking at Jaemin. For someone who wore sweatpants at home all day, he cleaned up nicely, not looking at all out of place in the fancy restaurant. 

Meanwhile, you felt nervous, anxious, and for some reason, very prickly. Prickly all over. Was this a date? Was it not a date? What were you supposed to do on a meeting which was now a dinner date? The word “date” kept tripping you up. 

You felt terrified, if you were being frank with yourself. The date was nice, Jaemin looked dashing, and you could get used to this. But you didn’t want to. Because Jaemin didn’t like you in a romantic way. That’s what you always told yourself. 

So the moment you asked Jaemin and something like this slipped out of your hands, you would remember these moments with pain.

“Honestly? Whatever you want,” Jaemin beamed. 

“No, Jaemin, I mean it. I don’t feel like choosing, and it would be great if you could choose?” you asked.

“No! I’m good with anything, I promise.”

You tried to breathe in, but you finally snapped.

“Stop it. Stop being so nice!” you yelled, frustrated, your nervousness coming to a head. The restaurant became silent, and your face reddened.

“I- I have to go to the bathroom,” you said, excusing yourself, making your way to the back of the restaurant. In the bathroom, you slapped cold water on your cheeks and winced at yourself in the mirror. How could you be so stupid?

You composed yourself, going over the two rules you had set in your head. Don’t be too wishful, and don’t overthink Na Jaemin’s behavior. Opening the door, you were shocked to find Jaemin outside waiting for you.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, worriedly. “You’ve been worried ever since we got into the car.”

“What, was it that obvious?” you muttered.

“Yeah. You have a tell, and it’s really obvious.”

You sighed. “What is it?”

“You bounce your leg.”

You frown. 

“Why are you so worried about today?” Jaemin asked. “And tell the truth. I can tell when you’re lying.”

“What, do I have another tell?” you remark sarcastically.

“Yup. Your eyes shift.”

You sigh again. “Okay, Jaemin. Stop.”

Jaemin closed his mouth, waiting for your reply.

You frowned deeply. Minjeong and Karina had been encouraging you for weeks, ever since they got wind that you might like Jaemin. So you should have the courage to ask him out. But you were so scared. So scared of ruining a friendship, one that you held closely to your heart. 

Maybe it didn’t hurt to ask about that day at work. That wasn’t asking Jaemin an “if he liked you” question, that was just a simple clarification. It wouldn’t lead to anything.

You mustered up your courage and took a breath.

“Jaemin, about that day in the office- did you really mean what you said?”

“What day?” Jaemin frowned. 

“You know. The day when you said you would never like me romantically,” you murmured. “Remember? When you said ‘Obviously not, you should totally ask her out!’”

Jaemin laughed.

“This isn’t funny!” you groaned.

“No! Of course I didn’t mean it!” Jaemin chuckled, taking your hands in his. “I was probably too straight with my words. I was trying to encourage that person to ask you out.” 

Jaemin paused, thinking.

“And… well, perhaps his words annoyed me a little bit.”

You paused. Was Jaemin implying what you thought he was implying? 

“Him asking me out annoyed you?”

Jaemin nodded.

“Does that mean…”

Jaemin smiled and pulled you in for a hug.

“Yes, I like you,” he whispered in your ear. You stepped back, staring at Jaemin. 

“What did you say?” you asked, making sure you heard Jaemin properly.

“I like you!” Jaemin said.

“You like me?” you asked in wonderment, looking into Jaemin’s eyes. 

“Yes, you dumbass!” Jaemin replied, giggling. “My god, you must be really dense. Did my behavior in the past two months mean nothing to you?”

“Shut up,” you giggled, hitting Jaemin’s back. He smiled, and his eyes flickered to your lips. He leaned in to kiss you…

And was interrupted by a voice from behind.

“Hello? You know, some people need to use the bathroom too! You’re blocking the way!”

Looking out from behind Jaemin, you noticed a line of people who needed to use the bathroom, voicing their disappointment and annoyance. Faces turning red, you quickly led Jaemin back to your dinner table.

“I want to keep kissing you,” Jaemin pouted.

“I know- but first, let's enjoy dinner at the expense of Minjeong,” you smirked, and Jaemin smiled at you.

When you finally left the restaurant, Jaemin pulled you in for a kiss. You had received your fair share of kisses over the years, but as Jaemin’s mouth moved against yours, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. You gripped his shoulders tightly. 

Thunder crackled in the air, and rain broke out over the city. As Jaemin let go, he tucked a piece of hair behind your ears and smiled. You smiled back, and leaned in for another kiss. Jaemin wrapped his hands around your waist, kissing you with all his might.

Even if it was cold, even if it was raining, nothing could stop you right now. You felt like you were on top of the world.

“All right, everyone! The typhoon’s going to hit soon- start monitoring!” Minhyung exclaimed. Everyone in the office sat at their desks, watching their screens closely. Karina and Minjeong had even stopped bickering with each other. 

You nodded, focusing on your computer screen. 

The last few days had been a blur in your mind- you had helped workers evacuate, monitored hurricane conditions, worked with the government to update them on the latest data, and somehow, also spent lots and lots of time with Jaemin- mostly kissing him, although you talked to each other as well. 

Through the process, you discovered what you really enjoyed: helping the people be safe and protecting them from anything that could happen. Thus, a few days ago, you had asked Minhyung to transfer you from your department to the Natural Disasters one. Minhyung and Yujin had both approved. Karina and Minjeong had reacted with varying levels of approval, but eventually, they both came around. And, of course, Jaemin favored whatever you wanted to do. 

As you took notes on the data and hoped that all your precautions would work, you felt a strange sense of home. You looked back to see Jaemin standing behind you. He wrapped his arms around your neck, humming a tune in your ear.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?” you whispered.

“I asked Minhyung if I could be with you!” Jaemin exclaimed, smiling wide. He looked over your shoulder at the data. Taking your pencil, he scribbled something on your paper, then added a heart next to it. Hesitating, Jaemin kissed your cheek and continued humming.

“What are you humming?” you asked happily.

“Oh… nothing,” Jaemin whispered, smiling. 

At that moment, you felt nothing but peace.

[i3utterflyeffect]

raaaaaaagh now officially asking you to rant about wandersong>:))))))

AAAAAAAAAAAAA i don't even remember what i was gonna rant about but just. goddamn!!! i just love the bard and miriam so fucking much and also my nonbinary ass is shaking hands with the bard so hard. wish i was a funny little bard guy with the most ambiguous gender ever

also just. god. i found a headcanon that they named themselves on the spot when miram and saphy asked and i find that so funny. i think they also should name themself bard bc holy shit that's even funnier

i also just need audrey to blow up RIGHT NEOW. bard may forgive her but i sure as hell don't

and also I LOVE THE OVERSEERS AND THEIR LIL FAIRY GUYS SO MUCH. ESP THE MOON FAIRY AND THE SUN FAIRY AND ALSO THE HEART AND DREAM FAIRIES.

and also i just. AGUHHHHHHHHH

it's just so good and the ost is so good and the LITTLE DETAILS are so good and i LOVE this FUCKING GAME!!!!!!!!!!!

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

analyzing some images (for fun)

so i found this pair of promotion images for good omens season 1 on the good omens reference library server and it’s hooked me so so bad im having feelings about it. we’re analyzing them now. not really for meta purposes just fun to see the parallels and differences :)

everything under the cut !

unique traits

aziraphale:

1) his plank background. its older, its crisp, it smells like wood from the screen. mmmm

2) the pencil shavings at the bottom. he does a lot of writing honestly, so i like this. also adds a messy and cozy vibe he always seems to have in that shop…. i like that blessed shop fr

3) his SUSHI. little soy sauce drops near it too—just the right amount of deliberate mess. our first formal introduction to aziraphale in the present day and beginning the Tomfoolery just happens to have sushi... i watch that scene and i go “yeah, that sums up aziraphale i suppose” very nicely. (they dont have sushi Up There) (im literally never gonna forget that)

4) the ray of light shining on the scene. tiny thing, but a bit of the heaven is peeking through..it also sort of blurs the whole image but i think thats just me.

5) and we’ve saved the best for last: the big whopper. the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch. I LOVE THAT BOOK!!!!!!! i cant remember if that ring stain was there but if it isnt in the show on the actual book i’d assume thats to add that ‘thy cocoa doth grow cold’ thing. ALSO. you know what’s being used as a bookmark in the pages?? a check for the ritz. he bookmarked their one chance for living . with a ritz check . MMMMMM. my GOD. that means so much to me even if i cant convey it in words. he KEEPS THE CHECKS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

crowley:

1) let me get my favorite out of the way. crowley’s glasses have fire in their reflection. we’ll talk about the glasses themselves later but the REFLECTION IN THEM. fucking FIRE, BOOKSHOP fire, PAIN, SRIVING THROUGH THE M-25, HELL, I DONT KNOWIM HAVING FEELINGS!!! i do believe this is a bookshop fire reference though, the flames feel too Familiar. the lengths people will go to to attack others 🤧

2) the leather seat background!!!!!!! probably meant to look similar to the bentley’s seats but i cant recall their texture, exactly. maybe just meant to convey modernness—unsure. still, its there <3

3) the tiny little crisp plant </3 its trying his damned best to stay perfect. it might a specific plant that means something, but i cant tell at thsi angle, so i’ll assume its a mini version of the ficus he keeps in the flat. its so SMALL and sitting in ANOTHER POT i CANT

4) the snake slithering!! black and red (in this image it looks orange lol) bellied scales!!!! slithering there, chilling, being crowley, showing hints. love it

5) QUEEN RECORD!!!!! TRYING TO OVERRIDE IT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY!!!!!! the tape over it does a reminisence to crowley’s handwriting, but in a clean ‘this made made to be a font’ way. not exactly just yet. ive become a fan of tchaikovsky recently. amazing darling wonderful crowley, trying to push the rock up the hill for eternity 😞

6) HIS LITTLE DEMON KEY THING. HOLDING A TINY LITTLE BENTLEY CAR KEY OHHH. thats how he doesnt lose the tiny key despite probably not needing one of those. and he CHOSE that intentionally probably. little wings and red circle….URGHHHHHHH

similarities

mmmmm now here’s the good shit. similarities! i’ll bullet point most of them but ohhhhh. ohhhh these. i’ll go from top to bottom as best i can….

1) one of their shoes, obviously. crowley has them iconic snakeskin shoes while aziraphale has his old loafers like the old loafer he is /pos

2) chateauneuf de pape wine bottle labels! (crowley’s is under his glasses, aziraphale’s is next to his shoe). oh my fucking god theyre MATCHING. the labels are old, battered, of course labeling the drink’s age, but mmmmm its these tiny details that get me going….

3) their respective drinks in their mugs—crowley’s a black mug coffee (or what looks to be coffee) and aziraphale’s angel mug tea (or what looks to be tea). i think about that mug sometimes. where did he get that from?? mystery for the ages….

4) their glasses, of course. crowley’s iconic sunglasses and aziraphale’s reading spectacles. i cant really tell the reflections in this pair, but if its supposed to be fucking fire, im done with this. im giving up forever

5) their own watches! aziraphale’s is visibily older while crowley’s is visibly modern, but they function just the same. also, crowley’s is set to 2:56:59 (presumably PM), which is around the time we see when crowley starts checking his watch at warlock’s birthday party. its almost time for disaster to strike!! 😃

6) and finally….their ties!! they have their own ties!!! or more accurately, neck accessories, but i digress. i mesn i assume its crowley’s neck tie, because the fabric looks… different. either way, crowley’s neck thingie is very whispy and aziraphale has his funky little bowtie i love so much,,,

okay thats it. there’s no canonical implications, any fantheories, none of the sort. just saw a pair of images and my mind went GOD DAMN!!!!!! theyre very important to me. i need to look at more promo material 😔

[llamagoddessofficial]

The sirens are always rescuing Mc. But what if, for once, Mc was the one who came to the rescue of a siren...?

Amazing commission, courtesy of the delightful @our-brightest-stars. I love any chance I can take to write more arctic-based stuff!

---

You could immediately tell, upon entering the room, that they had been talking about you. 

Despite the sweet smell of coffee, the air was heavy. The chatter you had been hearing through the door immediately stopped, like you were a teacher that’d walked into a room of gossiping school kids. Four of your colleagues were gathered together around the kitchen table, mugs clasped in their hands - Evan, who you already thought was a bit of a dick, put his hand up to his shut mouth and cast a wide-eyed look to Leo and Tom beside him. Antoni, who you considered something of a friend, had her back to you but sank sheepishly into her beige turtleneck sweater regardless.

You bit the inside of your lip. You could tell from their faces what they had been discussing before you interrupted. You had gotten to know their expressions pretty well, after so long occupying the same cramped arctic research station together.

... Yeah, figured they’d find out eventually. If anything, I’m surprised it took them this long. 

You wordlessly made your way over to the coffee pot, shoes squeaking against the rubber floor. You put your rucksack onto the counter, grabbing your flask out of it, skin prickling from their staring. There was still a significant amount of coffee left - a bonus of working with people who were also coffee addicts was they generally respected the ‘never leave the pot empty’ rule. 

You filled your flask. The coffee still had some steam coming off it. Stars, the silence was deafening.

“... Uh... going out?” Antoni asked, plaintively, as you screwed the lid back on and pushed the sealed flask into the mesh on the side of your bag. At least she had the decency to sound ashamed. Leo didn’t do a very good job of hiding his snicker.

“Yeah.” You hefted the bag back onto your shoulders, doing your best to not make eye contact with any of them. 

Evan, clearly, couldn’t contain himself. “Gonna go track down mothman?”

You felt a flush of multiple emotions at the same time. Some embarrassment, some shame, all of it quickly washed away by aggravation. Heat rose to your cheeks, but you held your tongue. You wanted to point out what a stupid fucking thing it was to talk about tracking mothman (a cryptid from West Virginia) in the high arctic, but it was obvious he was baiting you, so you kept your mouth shut.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been made fun of for what you believed in. However... the words stung that little bit more, when it was coming from your fellow scientists. 

“Evan,” Antoni sounded exasperated, “don’t be such a prick.”

Evan raised his hands. “What? So I’m not allowed to ask questions?”

You didn’t respond. You walked past them, headed to the main corridor; you weren’t going to let this spoil your plans. “See you guys later.”

As you left the room, you vaguely heard Antoni and Leo starting to berate Evan in low whispers. Someone definitely called him an asshole, cut off as the door closed behind you.

You sighed. The hallway felt a lot longer than usual. You passed through another set of doors, heavy metal ones, into the cold ‘buffer’ room between the warm research station interior and the outside world. After double checking you had all your gear, you stepped out of the doors, outside into the sun.

People didn’t realise how beautiful the arctic could really be. If you told someone to describe the arctic, they would probably just talk about the ice. And yeah, sure, there was a lot of ice, it would be unreasonable to say someone was wrong for thinking of that. But that was like describing a forest as ‘just trees’. The arctic at this time of year was endless slopes of rugged greens that rolled and swayed and disappeared far away into the horizon and beyond, carved into shape by ancient lakes and glaciers scraping the ground piece by piece once in a millenia. It was a sight to behold. Trees couldn’t take root, only the hardiest shrubs survived, and you were little more than a stone’s throw from the vast sub-zero ocean.

That ocean, a haven for the rarest kinds of sirens, was your goal. 

You tugged your backpack into a more snug position on your shoulders, and continued trudging through the stones and bare grasses. Even now, with the sun high in the air and all but the most stubborn chunks of the ice gone, the arctic was... well, the arctic. It never got warm enough to be comfortable and it was a good idea to just keep moving if you wanted to make it to the shoreline with enough time to actually get some footage before sundown.

You loved your job. Some would call you crazy, for willingly spending months at a time in the arctic circle studying sirens. You’d always been interested in sirens. The mystery and culture wrapped up within them, the inherent danger, so little information could solve so much. Siren studies was one of those areas where even the most fractional of discoveries would be groundbreaking and important.

... Sirens weren’t your true passion, though. Your true passion was what Evan had probably just discovered, and shared with your teammates - why you were lugging such a giant cold-resistant camera kit in your bag with you.

You quietened your thoughts with a swig of warm coffee, and an increased walking pace. 

Would some people call your Youtube channel conspiratorial? Sure. But cryptids were where your heart really lied. Cryptid study, cryptid research, cryptid sightings... you were incredibly proud of the modest following of like-minded people you’d built up online over time - there was no doubt your qualifications definitely gave your word some weight in the tight-knit community. Honestly, you considered your research work simply a way to fund your true passion. Every day when you had the free time, you took your camera out with you, out into the beautiful arctic land. There was so much to look out for. What would you find? You were giddy. If you found something truly incredible, your channel could blow up, and you could do Youtube full time. Today your mission was just to get some footage of the sea for a voiceover section you had planned.

... There was never a small amount of side-eyeing from people you knew, when they found out what you were passionate about. You weren’t sure what was worse; the ones who rolled their eyes and made stupid comments, or the ones who nodded along but looked at you like you were a particularly imaginative child. At least the more aggressive ones were honest about how they really felt. 

Sirens, in a way, felt like they proved that you were right to keep wondering what else was out there. They were incredible creatures, not even fractionally understood, dangerous and magical - they perfectly straddled the line between science and fantasy and there was so much of them that couldn’t be explained by those who (so frequently) brushed you off. How did their songs lure people? How do their bodies consist of such strange combinations of beings? How do they effortlessly sink hunting boats? Why did so many cultures have matching stories of them that perfectly apply to real life? In your world, honestly, the existence of sirens meant that a lot of other cryptids didn’t seem like too much of a stretch.

You had dedicated your life to researching sirens. By studying them, you could follow a path that was suitably scientific enough to shut up the assholes who didn’t take you seriously... but also gave you the time and resources to pursue your real passion.

You had to admit, you took pleasure in people discovering you were a scientist and a strong believer in certain cryptids. The visual erroring on their faces was wonderfully karmic to observe.

There was plenty of time to spare on the arctic research station. Experiments were frequent but didn’t take literally all day. You were left with ample opportunity to do whatever you pleased. Like, for instance... go out and film for your Youtube.

Aside from wanting to take pictures and film some B-roll, you just generally enjoyed being able to be outside. It was all well and good in the spring and summer, but when autumn and winter rolled around you’d be lucky to be able to see out of the windows. There was nothing as endless as the darkness of an arctic winter; the screaming winds, the days as pitch black as the nights, the many weeks cooped up in one place because the outside of the facility was literally one of the most hostile environments on Earth. It was good to stretch the legs - soak up as much serotonin as possible before the winter months came.

After a decent amount of time walking, immersed in your thoughts, you found yourself able to see the flat expanse of the sea poking just over the snow-topped hills. You were finally approaching the shore. Even from where you stood, you could see the massive ‘islands’ of ice floating silently away in the far distance. It was a truly magnificent place to be.

You rifled through your pockets for your hearing protection as you came close enough to the water to smell it, eventually having to pull off a glove for the dexterity. Even just a few metres from the sea you had to be aware of sirensong. Sirensong was always something of a risk but it was an even stronger risk while you were somewhere as remote as the arctic.

... But just before you got your protection into your ears, you heard something. It sounded like scrabbling, a weirdly desperate scratching. You stopped walking, turning cluelessly and searching for the source of the noise.

A few yards to your left, a patch of snow was wriggling.

No. It wasn’t snow. You blinked in surprise; it was an arctic hare, a surprisingly large animal, lean and white and with beady little black eyes. The animals this far north were always so much bigger than you expected. When it saw you notice it, it scrabbled and flailed in a way that only a frightened animal could, clearly desperately trying to run away. 

Something was stopping it. Upon closer inspection, from where you stood, you could see it had one back leg trapped in a small crack in the ice.

... Huh. You moved nearer, putting your hearing protection back into your pocket. The hare flailed again, wildly kicking its front legs, it reminded you of an injured bird trying to fly. Then it totally stilled; as if it could hide from you after all that movement.

“... I really shouldn’t help you,” you said, dejectedly, to the terrified animal, watching its little whiskers twitch, long ears pinned back against its skull as it tried to act indistinguishable from the ground. “Survival of the fittest, and all.”

The hare’s beautiful eyes stared up at you. You could see its little chest going up and down, heart beating wildly under its soft white fur.

...

You scanned the horizon. There was no one around for a long while. Sure, your GPS tracker told your coworkers where you were at all times in case of emergency. But until they thought there was an emergency you absolutely weren’t being followed anytime soon.

...

You pulled your bag off your shoulders, kneeling down and tugging your ice pick out of its strap holder. 

“No one will know, right?” you told the hare. It was just one hare. Even though leaving it was the logical thing to do, you couldn’t genuinely bring yourself to abandon this animal to die slowly and painfully while lodged in the ground. Besides, it was just one hare, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t like it had been caught by a predator, or something. It must’ve got its foot caught by accident; this was simply a terrible stroke of bad luck. If you freed it, it could go on to be eaten by a fox or wolf. Better that than to just die and freeze solid.

Using your ice pick, you carefully went behind the completely still creature. You were impressed by its dedication to stay totally still even when you were close enough to potentially reach out and stroke its fur. You had to be careful it didn’t spin around and bite you - you gently chipped away at the ice, extremely cautious not to catch its tiny bony leg. The entire time you dug, the hare was as still as the ice itself, unable to shake its instinctive need to stay small.

It really didn’t take long at all. A few careful draws of the sharp end of your axe against the compacted ice... and suddenly, like a gunshot going off, the animal sprinted away from you. Its powerful legs sent up a spray of snow, some of which went straight into your eyes - by the time you staggered to your feet, hurriedly wiped your face, sputtered and looked back up again, the hare was completely out of sight.

... Well. That was definitely a story to tell. You sighed, grabbing your bag and hoisting it back over your shoulder. At least -

- splashing?

Your head snapped toward the sea, in the direction of the sound. Against the total silence of the icy glassy sea, the splashing was loud, loud enough for you to hear it several metres away from the beach. It sounded frantic, almost aggressive. What the hell? What was going on today? You pushed your hearing protection onto your head, and half-ran-half-jogged toward the shoreline. The bare rock, grass and drifts of stubborn snow sloped away into loose pebbles that crunched and slid underfoot, mirrorlike water lapping slowly at the tide line only a few metres away. Lumps of ice, mini-glaciers of their own, floated silently and ominously by. This was water that would easily kill you if you fell in.

You scanned the shoreline, searching visually for the source of the noise you’d heard only moments ago - and soon you caught movement in the corner of your eye, just around a ‘corner’ caused by a rocky outcropping that jutted up a little higher than the rest of the landscape. Behind the outcropping, you could see large ripples spreading out, fast and random like something was fighting just behind where you could see. It was easy to pick up, considering the rest of the shoreline was so millpond still. 

Immediately, you jumped into action, running across the pebbled beach and scrambling up and onto the rock face. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting to see. Was it a person in distress?

... Except you could instantly tell it wasn’t a person, when the hidden section of the beach came into view, and you immediately saw a massive sleek outline that was easily twice as big as a person. It was for sure some kind of animal. But it took you a few crucial seconds of mind-whirring confusion to figure out what it was.

... Oh my stars. You ducked slightly, as if that would help.

It was a skeleton orca siren. A huge one. Partially beached, right there on the shore.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. All the breath left your chest at once. An skeleton orca siren, right before your eyes, bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, arching white markings and strong bones unmarred by any scars that could show a loss. Its sockets were sharpened with frustration - its body was against the shore at an angle, you could tell from how its tail was still able to cause those waves that the sea probably deepened extremely suddenly. It was thrashing, clawed hands digging into the ground, the force of its thrashing sending up showers of both stone and sea. 

Your breaths were controlled. The closest you had ever gotten to seeing a siren before was spotting their distant tiny shapes breaching near your boat, or the blurry low-quality images from underwater cameras. You’d never seen one in person so close you could touch it.

Clearly, you weren’t all that sneaky. Its rounded skeletal face whipped around, and razor-like white eyelights in pitch dark sockets landed on you.

Both of you were the rabbit this time. You froze, all your hair standing on end, nerves prickling. The siren froze too, waves stopping, it glared your way. At least... you felt like it was glaring. It was impossible to tell, its skeletal features were devoid of any of the usual emotional tells you relied upon. Whatever it was thinking, it was definitely staring, claws curling into the ground. Just its arms, twice the thickness of yours, could almost definitely snap your body in half.

Man. Chills spread across your whole body. Good fucking thing you put your hearing protection in, huh? 

You took a slow moment to take it all in. From the shape of the dorsal fin, you could tell it was male; male orca had a tall, almost triangular fin, while females had a much more sloped and curved appendage. Those sharp white eyelights cut into you, he was taking in you just as you took in him, clearly analysing every part of you. There was something so terrifying about his gaze - the eyes of a predator.

He watched you. He seemed... alert. Very very alert. 

...

Your heart was thundering in your ears, the only sound you could hear in your hearing protection. You unglamorously pulled yourself over the rock outcropping, scrabbling down it, and - against all advice you’d read before - approached.

He was beached. You had to at least see if you could help, right? It was one thing to have an inner battle about leaving a hare to die, it was another when the potential victim was a creature just as intelligent and sentient and aware as a person. He was laid at an angle, but still laid, the highest point of his back coming up to about your ribs. He had lost the advantage of movement. You nearly tripped over yourself as you moved closer, nervous feet skidding in the loose rocks.

... As you approached, he seemed to get... calmer? His eyesockets lost their sharpness, his eyelights grew in size. It was the opposite of what you anticipated. He wasn’t any less intimidating, though, no less scary. Your eyes kept darting to his teeth.

“How the hell did you manage to do this?” you asked, though you weren’t expecting a response, unable to hear even your own voice through the protection. “Where’s the rest of your pod, you dumbass?”

Was he smiling at you? Surely not. You dropped your bag to the floor, a few feet from him, digging through it until you pulled out your thick waterproof overclothing. Some other items tumbled out as you removed the gear but you paid them no mind. The waterproof outfit was like a boilersuit, it could be put on over the top of your other items and zipped to create a (theoretically) waterproof layer. Normally, it was a pain in the ass to get on, but you felt that you were on a time crunch and had somehow manifested almost superhuman speed.

You zipped up the suit, now protected in case you got wet. The closer you moved to him, the more you wished you had time to stop and fully admire him. The water on his bones and skin made him almost appear like he was shimmering. 

“... Ok,” you said, despite not being able to hear your own words, “easy big guy. Don’t bite. I’m just trying to help. I’ll get you back in the sea, and then I’ll go back to the land, and we can go on our way.”

He didn’t say anything. Because of course he didn’t, he was a siren, why did that thought even cross your mind? You blinked and shook your head, as if dispelling the thoughts physically. Of course he couldn’t talk. Something about his face felt so intelligent, somewhere deep down you had seemingly decided he could understand every word you said. And even if he did speak, it wasn’t like that’d be of any use to you. 

Something about him was eerily calm, even as you moved around him, coming close enough to his side to be within touching distance. Surely, a stranded creature like him would be thrashing and fighting when you came nearer, just like the hare? Surely he’d be making angry, earsplitting sounds that you’d be able to feel in your chest? The wind was picking up, tussling your hair. The siren stayed perfectly calm. 

“... I’m... I’m gonna need to touch you. Ok?”

...

... You reached out, and traced his skin with the tips of your fingers, extremely gently. It was cold. You immediately pulled back, turning and watching his face.

You expected something. Anything. A jump, a twitch, a lurch. Maybe even an attempt to fight you off. You expected him to swing around; hell, you expected him to even look at you. Any kind of a measurement of his reaction to you. Your legs were itching to leap back and flee.

But there was... nothing. No response from him at all. 

You came in again, this time putting your palm against his back, just beside his fin. It felt like electricity was running up your arm.

Nothing. Like he didn’t even care you were there. He was looking over his shoulder at you with a bizarrely soft look. Like he wanted you there. You felt very, very strange. This wasn’t at all what you were thinking would happen.

It felt like such a naive thing to even consider, but maybe... maybe he knew you were trying to help? 

Well, you didn’t have time to ponder the implications or reasons. You knew he was alright with physical contact. Now, you needed to figure out a way to get him back into the water.

You started by trying to pull - it only made sense, right? It kept you away from his front half, where the damage could be done. You looped your hands around the strong muscular base of his fin, using it like an anchor, digging your feet into the stones and throwing your whole weight backward. There was an extremely faint rocking of his body, literally about as much movement as someone trying to pull a car and only succeeding in making it bounce. Unperturbed, you tried again, pulling as hard as you could -

- the loose stones slid out from beneath your shoes. It kicked up the smell of wet seaweed and salt; if you hadn’t had your hands on his fin, your legs would’ve gone out from under you.

“Fuck,” you said breathlessly.

Did the siren laugh? Your head whipped around, he was looking ahead again. You felt like you saw his body move. 

... It must’ve been some other kind of vocalisation. You stood and turned around, trying again, this time pushing with your hands braced against the same spot. You pushed as hard as you could, nearly forgetting to breathe out, feeling your shoulders and wrists starting to twinge in pain. 

Once again, before you could make any meaningful progress, the force of your body made the slippery stones dislodge. You stumbled, all but falling flat onto his back, regaining yourself last minute and turning and looking over your shoulder at the siren’s head. 

“You just gonna sit there and stare at me?” you asked, breathless and only half joking.

He was looking back. You really really got the feeling he was smiling at you. 

You tried to push again, since it felt more solid than pulling. Yet everything you tried, the stones dislodged. The ground itself was fighting you. Frustrated, you dug your boot into the stones, trying to dig down and see if there was sand underneath, but there was just more and more loose wet rocks. Like the beach was making fun of you.

... Wait.

You thought back to the hare. Chipping at the ice around its leg.

You let go of him, scurrying back to your bag, then returning just as quickly with your pick in hand. The siren cast you a questioning glance, but still did absolutely nothing to stop your nonsense. Quickly, you dropped to your knees by his side, holding the pick by the head and jamming the wooden handle into the pebbles around where his tail met the floor. They came loose, of course.

You dug fast, using big scooping motions to pull the rocks out further each time. When you found a particularly large and difficult stone you flipped the pick and used the sharp edge to hoist it out of the ground. Seawater would occasionally slip into the gap you’d made, as the tide made the most minute waves you’d ever seen.

Excitedly, you ran around the siren, to dig on the opposite side. You didn’t notice how you ran perfectly within range of his arms, yet you dropped to his other side unharmed.

Your knees hurt. You were certain they’d be bruised. But you kept digging, and digging. You weren’t really doing anything more complex than making a ramp underneath him - but you were excited and flushed nonetheless, tired muscles full of hopeful vigour.

Suddenly, his tail splashed, you felt his whole body moving like an earthquake. You jumped away as far as you could, this time successfully falling flat on your ass - just like that, the siren drew away from you, moving backward into the water as he regained his grip and pushed himself. You were shocked by the speed and agility with which his huge body turned... and how he almost instantly disappeared, under the waves.

Holy shit, you thought, heaving, finally letting go of the pick as you stared out into the rapidly calming waters. It was like he’d never even been there. I actually... I actually did it. I just unbeached a siren. I...

Speaking of waves. Exhaustion, like a sudden tsunami, washed over you. Your shoulders sagged and your knees screamed in pain, you lifted your hands up to your face to see you had great crescents of red irritated skin on your palms. You were probably going to get blisters. 

... The cold started to finally twinge at your fingers. You managed to draw yourself up to your feet, but you flopped right back down to your knees once you made it to your bag. 

You opened it up, looking for your gloves, a lovely warm feeling filling your chest.

Amongst the dry kit, you saw your camera bag.

...

Wait. Your eyes widened.

... You forgot to take a picture. 

Welp - that was the lovely feeling gone. Immediately, you let out a frustrated shout, falling onto your back and putting your hands over your face. You forgot to take a picture. What a fucking moron! You’d just been closer than almost anyone ever to a massive orca siren, and you hadn’t even thought to get your camera out. He’d literally been a sitting duck, you could’ve photographed every side of him, every scar and mark, stars you could’ve filmed a segment for your channel. But the idea hadn’t even crossed your mind, you’d been so determined to save him. 

You’d probably never get another situation like this in your whole life. The universe threw the greatest possible chance at you. And you blew it.

... You dragged your hands down your face, staring up at the mottled sky. It wasn’t yet sunset, but you could tell the sun was beginning to inch toward it. If you wanted to film you’d have to do it right now.

...

... You couldn’t tell anyone back at the station about this. You folded your arm over your eyes. They wouldn’t believe you; they discover your ‘conspiratorial’ beliefs, tease you about it, you leave in a huff and then you conveniently come back a few hours later with an elaborate story about how you unbeached an adult orca siren? Yet strangely, you have absolutely no proof of the matter, despite having a camera on your person the whole time? You weren’t even sure if your followers would believe it. Sure, they’d believe you encountered a siren. But unlike what the rest of the world wanted to think, they absolutely weren’t stupid - they’d be hard pressed to believe you RESCUED the animal and didn’t think to record.

Eventually, you sat up. You were really and truly gutted. But there was no point fretting; not when you had daylight to use.

Might as well just get some of that B-roll.

///---///

Looking at the comments was always nice. When you weren’t busy, and couldn’t get outside, your second favourite thing to do was scroll through the comments on your videos. Of course you always got the occasional idiots who called you nuts, but those were few and far between, most were people being sweet or recounting their own experiences that you always read with complete rapture. 

You imagined some might find it hard to believe that being tucked up in your tiny warm station room was your second favourite activity. Walking around in the wind and cold was much more fun. But that, of course, didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy curling up on your desk chair with a blanket and a mug of tea while reading people’s encouraging responses to your passion projects.

You’d only posted your most recent video, the one about your siren encounter, about an hour ago. You scrolled, delighting in the serotonin that came with having an active comment section.

... Eventually, you came across a longer one that caught your eye. You paused sipping your tea to read it.

@bluesaphii1996

I grew up somewhere where we constantly see sirens in our waters. I absolutely believe you saw a siren, because I’m like 99% certain I can see a siren in the sea behind you at 14:51. Look just to the left of your shoulder, about 2/3s of the way between the beach line and the horizon. Its head pops up for a second before it rolls in the water and dives again. Either that or it's a VERY weird seal. But I’ve seen enough sirens to recognise their behaviour. That siren is 100% watching you when your back is turned. Be safe!!

...

You had to read the comment three times over. 

Huh? What? 

Immediately, sitting up and setting your mug aside, you clicked back over to your video and skipped to the timestamp in question. In that part of the video, you had set up your tripod, and you were talking to the camera with the sea behind you. You stared hard at the screen.

... You weren’t really used to looking at the ocean. You were pretty certain that someone who grew up by the sea would be a lot better at seeing strange movements in the water than you were. 

But sure enough, just like the commenter had said, you could just about make out a shape in the water. It broke the surface, then disappeared down again.

You had literally put your hands against that siren. You’d know it anywhere. That was definitely him; watching you from the water, many minutes after you’d rescued him and he could’ve swam far away. 

...

You sat back in your chair. You weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

... Probably not excitement. 

You just couldn’t help it. A massive grin was spreading across your face. You were absolutely, utterly delighted.

Despite everything, you did get him on camera!

[normansnt]

The Prince pt.2

(Alastor x prince of hell! Reader)

Warnings: couple fight, kinda depression but nothing major, ehhh I think thats it.

Also Alastor might be a bit OOC but like who cares let me be delusional🫡

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It has been two months now since you and your dad visited your sisters hotel and you met Alastor.

Since then life has been amazing. You and Alastor continued to meet up in coffee shops and bars.

Of course you didn't tell your father since he would freak out.

However is has happened don more than one occasion that you spent the night in Alastors room at the hotel telling your father that you were just visiting Charlie.

Nothing happened of course since Alastor was asexual, and it took quite some time to get him comfortable with physical touch in general.

After he got used to it though it turned out he loved it. Only with you, but he loved it.

One of your favorite activities together is, in fact, cuddling.

Which you were doing right now as well you sitting in his lap in one of his arm chairs both of you reading books.

Alastor stopped reading for a second, and looked at you.

Since the meeting at the hotel a lot has happened. A lot that surprised even him. He has no idea he could get into e relationship let alone with someone as amazing as you.

Around the beginning of the second month into your relationship you got into a fight.

You wanted him to drop the act and open up to you because if he doesn't this relationship will never work.

And obviously he didn't want to. He has spent years building up his very carefully crafted facade. And who knew if you would still love him.

After that argument you didn't see each other for a week. Which was hell for alastor. Yes, he lived there but being away from you showed him what it was like for other people.

The pain in his heart was something he has never felt before, perhaps when his mother died but that was so long ago he could barely remember.

He woke up with that blinding pain in his chest and he thought is was just a temporary thing, so he went along his day.

Only to notice that the pain did not lessen or go away. It was there constantly and got worst whenever someone mentioned you.

After 3 days spent like this he could take it no more he went to you fathers house and requested to see you.

He knew that Lucifer didn't know you guys were together but he didn't care at this point he needed to see you and frankly he refused to do it over a little buzzing box.

Your father was of course as confused as one can be. What the fuck was the radio demon doing here wanting to talk to you.

They were about to get into another fight when you turned up.

Alastor froze when he saw you.

You were, even nicely speaking, a mess. Your hair was not as well kept the sleepless nights could be seen in your eyes, and you were wearing your pjs, which was one of Alastors shirts, from the few he owned.

Alastors didn't even spare another glance at your father he pushed him out of the way took your hand and led you to your room where you guys talked things out.

He didn't open up fully, but he stopped grinning. Which was already a huge step for him.

He promised, though, to open up to you more and more he just needed time.

And you were ok with that.

After he finished his sentence you leaped into his arm and kissed him which he eagerly returned. Missing the feeling of your lips on his.

"Alastor?"

He was staring at you. For a long time now and you were getting worried.

"Are you ok?" You asked while cupping his cheek.

He took the hand that was on his cheek and kissed your palm that put that hand on his chest where his heart would be if he had one.

"Oh, I'm quite alright dear, just thinking." He answered than leaned in for a kiss.

Your lips met and this kiss was not quite like the others.

Alastor but all the feelings he couldn't say into that one kiss stealing your breath. You felt the things he was to closed off to share and you understood why it would take him time.

After you parted you gave him another quick kiss which made him chuckle.

"WHERE IS THAT RADIO DEMON SON OF A BITCH"

Oh, yeah when Alastor visited you, Lucifer found out about you two, and since than...well lets just say Alastor enjoys tempting him with it to no end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YOU GUYS ASKED FOR A PART TWO, AND I DELIVERED😎

No cuz in all seriousness my hazbin fics have gotten so much love and I just wanna thank you guys so much😭🧡🧡

I hope you enjoyed your reading Ladies, gentleman and other, good afternoon good evening and good night.🦖🧡

[sugarlywhispers]

ex!b.katsuki x reader ; m.izuku x reader — bakugou cheats on his gf, with midoriya's girlfriend.

☆– warnings; ANGST. mention and description of panic attacks, swear words, cheating (bakugou to reader; uraraka to midoriya), description of a fight. But it ends in fluff~ c;

☆–a.n; honestly, i don't know if i'm going to add another chapter... i still have a bit more of ideas for this, but i don't know ._.

in the meantime, i hope you liked this new part! <3

also, i hope ya'll have a wonderful beggining of 2024!!! may this new year bring lots of good thing for everyone, lots of love and adventures, new amazing things and wonderful people to your lives!

love ya'll so much, wish you all ALL the good things life can bring; no more tears, except happy ones. <3

A few weeks go by, and Midoriya and you keep in touch, texting almost everyday. Talking about random stuff, important stuff, whatever the mood is. But it's mostly cute, random stuff, getting to know each other kind of feeling. It's funny how you both have been around each other for so long and did not actually know one another. 

The texting was cute. Like a picture he sends one afternoon, when his shift is calm and almost finished, when the sun is setting, taken from up high in a building. A beautiful sunset picture that you use as a lock screen wallpaper on your phone. Or that one selfie he sent when he shared patrols with Hero Shoto; you remember thinking how cute he looked posing next to the hot and cold Hero, with two fingers of one of his hands pulled up on a peace sign. Or a picture of a little puppy Hero Deku found on a rainy morning shift. He took it to the closest vet so they could help the little animal, and you find that so fucking heroic it makes your heart jump from the cuteness.

"I wonder… who has you smiling like that? Oh , I know… Mister Greeny," Mineta mocks, his eyebrows shaking up and down suggestively.

"Shut up," you bark and hit him on the upper arm strongly. He simply laughs.

Three months pass faster than you actually realize. You're better, you feel better. You haven't had a single panic attack since Midoriya Izuku entered your life. Which is good… it means good.

He is good.

Since that first Friday you grabbed coffee together, you both decided to make it your day. Each and every Friday morning, Izuku and you would go to grab coffee at that same shop you went to the first time; then he would walk you home as the gentleman he is.

It's Friday and you're waiting for him, it's a bit late already, but you know he is coming. He had a night patrol but he insisted to not break the new tradition - his words. You found it cute, so you didn't protest.

But now you're worried, because it's almost 30 minutes since you have been waiting and he hasn't come yet. Then it becomes 40, 45, 50 minutes. You feel your neck itchy, but you try to ignore it, looking at your phone. Waiting for a notification, waiting for Mid‐ Izuku to contact you. But nothing.

It's already been 1.10 hours long and no sign of him. You sigh and decide to go home, it's been more than an hour already. Probably he had something coming up at the last minute, or he simply forgot. He probably had a rough night and he didn't have time to meet you. You're not as important as his job, obviously.

You grab your things and exit the place, the kind girl behind the counter smiles sadly at you and waves her hand as goodbye. You smile, or at least try, in her direction and leave the coffee shop.

You feel itchy all over. This… This is… weird . Why are you feeling like this? You have no right to feel… disappointed, hurt . He's a Hero. He's freaking Number One, pro hero Deku. His job will always come first. But you can't help it. It's like…

You're not my priority, Y/N. Understand that you'll never be. I have to concentrate in my job if want to fucking be Number one.

You haven't heard his voice in your head for a long time now. And hearing it again is… painful. Hurting. Choking .

Every sound around you feels a hundred times louder as you walk, every light blinds you and you don't realize you're bumping into almost everyone around. The pressure on your neck is getting stronger and you can't breathe. You can't think. Your vision is turning black, like that night at the ramen shop with Mineta. A panic attack . You're having one in the middle of the street. How embarrassing . How pathetic . 

You want the blackness to finally evolve you, and don't let go.

And then you see it, you feel it. Green eyes and strong hands grabbing your shoulders. You know those green eyes, you have seen them before. He's moving his mouth but you can't hear his voice. He looks worried; why is he worried? You feel rough hands that grab your face as softly as he can, and they are cold. You aren't used to the cold, but you like it. It's refreshing.

"...hear me? Y/N, please breathe, okay? Breathe with me," his voice is comforting, so you follow him, you breathe with him. "That's it… You're okay. We are okay."

The sight around you starts to clear, the blackness dissipates and you see clearly. His face is the first thing your eyes find. You know him. "Izuku?"

" Yes! Yes, it's me… Hi, love," he smiles relieved. You look around realizing you're in the middle of a circle, with him. People are watching, some worried, some annoyed. Embarrassing .

You realize then that Izuku's hands are around your face, holding you with no intention of letting go. "Izuku…"

He blinks, realizing then probably your surroundings and nods. "Yes, come one, let's go…"

Izuku helps you stand, his arm surrounding your waist pulling your weight on him so he helps you walk. Everyone starts clapping, clearly recognizing hero Deku even in his civilian clothes.

He walks you to your apartment in silence. Until you walk into the building, "There's no elevator?"

"No, it's been broken since before I got here," you know your voice sounds throaty, and the expression on his face says it worries him.

He sighs looking at the long stairs ahead. He knows you live on the fourth floor. "Okay, then," he says before picking you up, bridal style.

"Izuku! I can walk!"

"No, you can't. You have been putting your weight on me the whole way here."

"Still, I…"

"Shut up. Let me help," his tone it's so authoritative you have no other option than to do that. Shut up and let him help, because you know you wouldn't be able to climb those stairs up on your own even if you tried.

On the way up, you can't avoid watching him. He looks… angry . You have never seen him like that, or better said, you have never experienced his anger, you have seen him angry on the TV, fighting villains.

"I'm sorry," you say, and he stops midway, his eyes traveling to your face.

"You're apologizing for having a panic attack?" He's frowning, his tone incredulous, but serious. It makes tingles run your body.

"I'm… Yes, it's embarrassing ," you feel your voice crack a bit, and you hate that.

"Y/N, it's not embarrassing. It's a trauma response. And it's okay to go through it. But you need to heal…"

You look away from his face, tears already burning your eyes. You can't help but hear his voice again.

Having panic attacks in public is embarrassing, Y/N. You have to control them. Don't be fucking weak.

" He said… he said they were embarrassing."

You know you shouldn't be saying this to Izuku, but you said it even before you could actually think it.

" Who said-…" Izuku stops mid sentence. Takes a deep, deep breath, and continues climbing the stairs in silence. You don't dare look up. He's so tense and angry, you don't really have the courage to witness that right now.

When you arrive at the fourth floor you signal him which one is your apartment. And even when you are in front of the door, he doesn't put you on the ground. He stands there, waiting patiently, as you search for the key card on your bag and when the door is open he enters with you in his arms. He of course takes his shoes off at the entrance and walks inside.

He doesn't say anything as he sits you over the small couch and sits next to you, his arm touching yours and taking almost all the space around you. His smell is around and you like it.

His face is even closer to yours when he asks, worried, "When were you going to tell me you have panic attacks?"

"I… I don't want to bother anyone with them." You tell the truth. You can't lie to him.

"That's what he told you? That they are a bother?" You simply shrug, not really wanting to answer. "Y/N, I'm not angry or feel like this is a bother. I'm worried, you need help."

"I am going to therapy. I've been going since I'm five, Izuku. I had a handle on them, they weren't recurrent until…"

"Until he left you," he finishes for you, slightly shaking his head and you nod.

Izuku sighs, standing up and you watch him. Is he going away? Is he embarrassed and going away, deciding not to involve or do anything with your broken self?

"Do you mind if I make us both tea?"

You shake your head rapidly in answer. He smiles and walks towards the kitchen. You follow his every move, being a small apartment it's easy to do it.

Izuku is… staying . For tea. He's not leaving. He's not leaving you alone after a panic attack. Like Mineta. But he's your best friend, Mineta has always been there; like you have been there for him even after the war he had to be part of at such a young age and he tried to push you away. Izuku doesn't have that obligation. Izuku… is your friend? Well, that's how you like to think of him since you got to know him this past months. But the category of best friend was not there for him yet. You were just getting to know each other. So, why is he here? Why does he stay?

"It's ready," he suddenly says, sitting back next to you with the two mugs of tea. He gives you one and you accept it a bit startled.

The sudden smell of lemon with honey tea that invades your nose as you bring it closer to drink immediately relaxes you. You smile after taking a sip.

You look back at him and he's watching intently at you, like he's waiting for your reaction.

"You remembered," you say and you really want to cry now.

He smiles, a hand flying to the back of his head to scratch it nervously, "You said it was your favorite."

You did. On a text message, when the topic was favorite drinks . But the fact that he remembered that you said it, it is… overwhelming.

Silence again. On your part it's more relaxed, but you can feel him a bit anxious. You decide to give him space, time to say whatever it is that it's inside his mind.

Until he does.

"You're not the only one… struggling still… with all that happened." He says as he sets his mug on the little coffee table in front of you. It's very small, mostly for decoration. Only space for the two mugs you're using at the moment. Izuku then lays his elbows over his knees, fingers fidgeting in the middle clearly showing his nervousness. "I have nightmares. Very bad ones, since the war. Uraraka used to help a lot, she was always there for me when I needed her."

This is the first time he talks about her this willingly, so you just keep silent and give him the space he needs to say whatever he wants.

"I was finally getting better… and then… she wasn't there anymore…"

"The nightmares came back?" He simply nods. You can't help yourself but to direct your hand towards his shoulder in a form of comfort, which he accepts with a small smile.

"I guess… we are two broken people, trying to pick up the pieces left. Aren't we?"

His eyes shine with tears he refuses to set free, probably also what your own looked like. He smiles sadly at you, before patting your hand that still holds his shoulder.

You both stay in silence for a little while before Izuku breaks the silence again.

"I'm sorry about today. I had…" He sighs. "I had a discussion with a partner."

Partner? You know Izuku doesn't have many partners. One is Hero Shoto, who also is his best friend. You doubt he had a discussion with him, you couldn't actually see Shoto in a heated discussion at all. And the other one is… Oh .

"What did he do now?" You don't even have to mention his name. You and Izuku know who you're talking about.

The green-haired man rolls his eyes. "We have been civil. For the sake of everybody around us. And if I'm being honest, we work well together. In fights, we understand each other perfectly. So we decided to just be professional and not bring up anything that happened."

You know this. Izuku had already told you this once, when he called you on his lunch break to talk to you about a cute little butterfly that he would send you the picture of when he was less busy and you heard Bakugou's voice on the back calling for Izuku. They had been on a mission together.

"Until…" Izuku continues, "Until this morning, when he decided to bring up our Friday morning's coffee."

" What?! " You frown. How did he know? Nobody knew, besides Mineta and probably Shoto on Izuku's side. Nobody else knew… unless…

"Paparazzis discovered us. I don't know how. I'm always careful when meeting you. I take a lot of turns and I disguise myself the best I can so they don't recognize me. But they found out." He sighs, a hand sliding his green and black curls back. "They released an article yesterday. About us."

Izuku takes out his phone, searching for something before showing it to you.

NEWLY BACHELOR, NUMBER ONE PRO HERO DEKU, FOUNDS NEW SWEETHEART?

Yes, my readers, this is apparently what it looks like. A young, pretty lady like this caught the attention of the Symbol of Hope quite fast, if you ask for my humble opinion.

We don't have much information about her, sadly. Only that this lady has our favorite Pro Hero on her clutches... Look at the way he looks at her in the following pictures!

Isn't it cute? Let me be honest, as a fan of Deku myself, I can't avoid feeling a bit heartbroken, but I also think that this man deserves all the happiness anyone can give him. Don't you agree? And after that sudden break up with Pro Hero Uravity that caught everyone by surprise, makes me think… Does this lady have anything to do with it? Did she catch Pro Hero Deku's heart from before, causing the break up? Mmm, so many questions, readers, that we don't have the answers yet! But no mind, we will try our best to find them! Be patient, and in the meantime, show a bit of support for our favorite Number One Hero.

You feel like vomiting. Your picture, clear as day, has never been on the front page of a magazine. Bakugou has always protected his privacy so meticulously, and that included you. The media and his fans knew he had a relationship, but he never let anyone get a glimpse of it.

And here you are now, on the front page of Go-zzip Hero magazine, the picture showing you sitting in front of Izuku in that coffee shop, talking so close to his face it practically looks like you're kissing. Oh, shit . You do that? You actually speak that close to him??

You swallow thickly, looking back up at Izuku.

"I am so sorry, Izuku, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know. None of us did. But I'm sorry I wasn't more careful…"

"Don't be silly. This is not your fault."

"Yours either."

You both smile shyly at each other. This is… chaotic. Being involved with him is… OH, SHIT.

"What? What is it?" He asks as he sees your eyes open wide in fear.

"Your fans are gonna kill me..."

"No, they aren't…"

"Yes, they are! Oh my God!" You stand, after putting your mug over the table next to his, a bit wobbly on the legs which makes him react fast to hold you if you fall, but you don't. You start walking one way to the other of your small living room. "I'm so food for the fishes… they are going to kill me!"

Izuku chuckles. "No, they aren't, Y/N…"

"Don't laugh! Yes, they are! Especially after what that journalist said! They even hinted that probably I was the reason you broke up with Uraraka!"

"Which is not true. I'll call my manager and PR team and ask for an interview with the magazine and clarify this. You don't have anything to worry about. Neither does Mineta. I'll clarify that we are just friends…"

That makes you freeze in place, frowning. "Mineta? What does he have to do with this?"

Izuku frowns too, looking confused at you. "Aren't you… Isn't he… Aren't you dating ?"

"WHAT?!" By Izuku's flinching, you realize you raised your tone a bit louder than you intended. "Sorry…Mineta is my best friend, Izuku. He's like a brother to me."

Izuku looks so confused, "But… But you always speak about him. He cooks for you, he is… he is here almost everyday for you, and he did all that stuff to piss off Bakugou for you, like a…"

"Like a brother would." You smile. "I do think that somehow our souls are connected, because I know I could leave apart from anyone, except him . He's that annoying sticky thing you get used to living with and don't want to unstick, because if you do something will miss. Because he's my brother. I wouldn't be able to live without his annoying ass." Izuku laughs with you. You walk back to sitting next to him as silence comes back. Then, you keep talking, "Mineta has been there when I had no one. Even when we were five years old and my parents died in a car accident, provoked by a hero-villain fight." Deku tenses, but keeps his attention on you. "We used to play heroes when we were kids and fantasize about how we were going to be Number One. Both of us, together. And then the accident happened. I was left alone. I didn't have much family around, only my old great-grandma that was barely suitable to raise a child. So I was given to the state. I went to an orphanage."

You don't know why you're baring your soul to Izuku like this. This was a painful, very intimate part of your history nobody knew but Mineta. Not even Bakugou knew. He never insisted for you to tell him. He simply accepted that you were Mineta's best friend, end of sentence. He never questioned anything. Now you wonder if that was a good or a bad thing.

"That's when your panic attacks began?" He asks a bit timidly. You nod.

"It happened that same day, when I was given the news about their deaths. A kind lady had been there with me, explaining what it all meant. She was kind, but she didn't have much experience. Imagine walking into a room as a kid where your parents are lying dead in two stretchers and being told these are your parents and you're not gonna see them anymore ." Izuku flinches again, a chill clearly running down his back. "A few hours later, I had my first panic attack. I lost consciousness for almost an hour. It was the longest one I ever had and doctors were worried not enough oxygen had gone to my brain, considering that even when I woke up I wasn't talking to anyone."

"Until Mineta and Auntie Asiki came to see me at the hospital. The second Mineta lay down next to me in the hospital bed, I started crying, and he held me. We were kids, not knowing anything about life, and he still understood that I needed him. Auntie Asiki offered to bring me home with her and Mineta, but the forms to the orphanage had already been filled and accepted. It would take a lot of money, lawyers and procedures to let her, a single mother, take my custody. And while her heart and intentions were hugely appreciated for even thinking about it, it was impossible."

"I didn't know Mineta's mom was a single mother." Izuku frowns, probably guilting himself about it, because of everything they, as class A, had been through their years at UA.

"He doesn't like speaking about it. He really has to trust you to tell you about it."

Izuku nods, instantly respecting that decision. He then scratches his neck again. 

"So, you and him are not…"

You chuckle. "Not even if he was the last man on Earth." Izuku laughs too.

" Ouch , that wounds me so deep, bun," Mineta's voice is heard from the entrance as he walks inside your apartment.

Shit , you haven't heard him at all. The worry on your face is visible, because you have been talking about him, about his private life, and you hadn't consulted him before. You feel so bad, so worried he'll get mad at you.  

Mineta sees you and simply shrugs, "It's okay, bun, I trust Midoriya." He then winks at you and you feel the worry disappear completely.

"Thank you, Mineta. I promise I won't speak about it to anyone."

"It's okay," Mineta answers Izuku, pulling his thumb up in his direction. You smile watching their interaction. "I'm not here though to have this conversation." Your best friend gets closer to where you are, a worried expression on his face. "I was told you had another one, in the middle of the street.." You sigh, looking down at your hands that lay in your lap. "Was it because of him again?"

You nod and Mineta is the one who sighs this time.

"About Bakugou?" Izuku asks then, frowning.

You nod again. "My therapist is helping, but yes, they appear after I remember something, random things he once had said to me."

"Why it doesn't fucking surprise me…" Izuku barks as he stands from the couch and walks, just like you had moments ago. Mineta opens his eyes wide, watching amused at Izuku's reaction.

"He's such a fucking jerk… But we already knew that, didn't we?" 

Izuku immediately agrees with Mineta.

"I should have punched him harder," Izuku's comment makes you choke on the tea you were about to swallow.

"You what?!" Both you and Mineta speak at the same time. You look worried about the whole situation, the discussion clearly hadn't been a simple one if there had been fists involved. Mineta looks like a kid given the awaited present on his birthday.

"What really happened, Izuku?" You ask, worry clear on your tone.

"He saw the article, clearly. I came back from night patrol and was changing in the locker rooms, the whole night shift was there preparing to go home at the same time the morning shift was getting ready to start their patrols. And he started making comments about you and me, about how I apparently like his leftovers, about how you are a gold digger and now went for me."

"He did not fucking say that!" Mineta stands up, ready to beat some ass, Bakugou's, specifically.

"He did! I couldn't not do anything. I tried to be civil and only told him to stop talking about us, that he didn't know anything. And I told him to stop playing the victim, because he was none. The only victims in this story are you and me," Izuku looks at you like he's assuring you, "They don't have the right to even comment on this." 

"Hell yeah, Midoriya!" Mineta cheers, raising his hand for Izuku to high five him, and the green-haired does, animated. You shake your head trying to hold your smile back. "What did corn-head say then?"

Izuku laughs at Mineta's nickname for Bakugou, bumping his fist again with the man in agreement.

You roll your eyes. Jesus , men are such idiots with nicknames. 

"He then said that… I don't know if I should repeat it…" Izuku and Mineta both look at you, Mineta already intuitively knows.

"He talked… he talked about our sex life, didn't he?" You ask after a minute of silence.

Izuku nods.

"Tell me you did punch him hard though…" Mineta is fuming, you can see the smoke coming out his ears, metaphorically. 

"Of course I did. Twice, before someone pushed me away."

"Well done, man." Mineta high fives Izuku again.

"You shouldn't… you didn't have to…"

"I won't let him or anybody speak about you that way, Y/N. Now that I know all you've been through, I won't even give them a chance to."

You move before you think, again. One second you're seated on the couch, and the next you're hugging Izuku. Arms around his neck strongly, as your face hides in your arm and his shoulder. It takes him a second, but he reacts by hugging back, strong arms surrounding your waist as delicately as he can, but also firm and securely.

You heard Mineta walk out of the living room towards the kitchen to entertain himself with anything.

And you feel… safe . You feel so safe in Izuku's arms, it's so comforting and nice.

You feel him take a deep breath over your head, as if your smell was comforting to him. You like that idea. That at least in something so insignificant like your smell, he finds comfort and peace. Relax and ease.

"Thank you, Izuku," you whisper only for him to listen.

He shakes his head, "You have nothing to thank me for."

"I do, though. Not only for those punches," you say backing away just a bit so you can see his face. He smiles proudly at the mention of the punches. "But because you helped me with my panic attacks… Twice."

"Twice?" He asks confusedly, but you nod.

"The first Friday we went to have a coffee, remember?" He nods, "I was waiting, and because it was my first time out of my apartment without Mineta I was feeling overwhelmed and… and then you appeared at the door. And all I felt was relief… I felt safe with you there, so it stopped even before it began."

You are looking at his eyes, and you can see the emotion in them as you speak. He then rests his forehead on yours and takes a deep breath, clearly pushing his emotion back in so he can speak.

"I'll be there for you… I want to be there for you, if you want me…"

"I want you," you immediately answer, "I want you to be here."

"Then I will."

"I also want to be there for you," you scratch the back of his head softly, as he bites his bottom lip, taking a deep breath. He looks like he's trying to control himself from doing something then and there, and that makes you smile.

"I want you . I want you to be there too." He repeats your exact same words, making you feel tingles all over your body as you feel his fingertips caress lightly, timidly, the bit of skin showing at your waist.

"Then I will."

You feel him moving, his nose caressing yours in a cute manner. Slowly getting closer, lips barely touching and…

"Sorry to be a cockblock, but your phone is ringing, Midoriya."

The bubble is popped , so you both back away, clearing your throats and fixing your clothes out of nervousness.

"Oh, yeah, ummm…" Izuku walks back towards the kitchen to search for his phone. "It's Shoto. He's probably heard already about the fight this morning. I should pick this." You nod, signaling to your room for his privacy and he thanks you as he walks there.

Your eyes follow him until the door is closed, and then they go towards the kitchen, where Mineta is standing, hip against the counter and a bowl of snacks in his hands he found somewhere, eating them slowly as he looks at you accusatory. A knowing smirk in his face.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything… yet."

You roll your eyes. "Spit it out." You walk towards him, picking some of the snacks on the bowl and eating.

"I have nothing to say, Y/N."

That's impossible, he always has something to say. 

"Or should I call you Ms. Midoriya from now on?" 

Ah, there it is.

You punch him in the arm and he laughs out loud.

PART I - PART II - PART III

[gyll-yee-haw]

Can you write an age gap fic where Jake is older than the reader, and maybe he's been getting in his head about it. Maybe one night they start making it, and he's in his head and can't get hard, and he freaks thinking this proves he's too old for his girl? Little angst, lot of fluff and smut lol

Hii, honey! Thank you for the amazing request, I got SO carried away with it lol... well, let's start 2024 with this one <3

Warnings: age gap, angst (talks of breaking up, anxiety attack), dry humping, cum in pants, slapping, dirty talk, oral (fem. recieving).

Like 4.1k words 💀

Jake sighed as he scrolled through the pictures of last weekend's red carpet event. Maybe was the bad lighting but... something seemed off. He looked so... different. But then... he looked at you. As gorgeous as always. He could swear you were getting more gorgeous every day. But he was just... aging.

He tried not to care about all the mean comments you both had to deal with, due to your age gap, but it was different when he could see it with his own eyes. How in a few years he would not only not be good looking enough for you, but he might also not... be able to give you the life you deserve. He wouldn't have the same energy or the same goals. What if he got sick and useless and you had to waste your life taking care of him?

His heart broke at that thought. He couldn't do that to you. But what was the other option? Breaking up with the love of his life?

His thoughts were interrupted by you opening the front door. He quickly locked his phone and threw it on the coffee table. He kinda hoped you hadn't seen those pictures... he thought you would feel less attracted to him if you realized what he just realized.

"Hi, baby." You almost moaned at the sight of him, so cozy on the sofa. You had such a long, stressful day and you just couldn't wait to be in his arms.

"Been thinking bout you all day." you sighed, straddling him. You felt him tense under you. "Want you so bad right now..."

"You do, baby?" He knew he would have to use his best acting skills to hide how tense he was. The problem was that he was never good at lying to you.

But maybe... sex would help. Help him relax, help him get his mind off all that... it's what the two of you always did after a stressful day, relax by pleasuring each other... maybe that was the key.

You kept rubbing your clothed core against his, as you kissed his neck and moaned obscenely. "Need you, Jake, need you so bad, oh my god..."

That would usually make him shiver, drive him so crazy he would have to take control immediately. But right now... he felt kinda overwhelmed. He felt like your body heat was too much and your words made his heart race, but just not in a good way.

God, he loved you. Those thoughts he was having... being so scared of losing you, was all because he loved you too much... he wanted to make you feel so good... it was like his mind and soul craved the same as you, but his body just wasn't responding.

Fuck. His body WASN'T responding. He grabbed your waist so much tighter than he usually does, making your hips move faster. He grunted as he kept forcing your hips, but NOTHING. Why wasn't him hard? Not even a little bit! For fucks sake, all it takes for you to get him hard is a look... now you were begging for it on his lap and NOTHING.

It broke his heart. His princess asking him something he just couldn't give... and what if... what if he just couldn't do it anymore?

"Jake!" You called. And by your tone, he could tell it wasn't the first time, he just couldn't listen. "Jake, please, stop, you're hurting me..."

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I..." he immediately let go of your hips, hands going straight to his face, rubbing it desperately.

"Jake? Baby? What's going on?" You grabbed his arms, removing his hands from his face, so he would look at you.

"Can't breath." He whispered.

"Calm down, baby, I'm right here, okay? You're safe, everything's okay, I promise." You placed both hands on his shoulders, taking deep breaths so he would follow.

"I'm so fucking sorry." He said, as soon as his heart rate normalized.

"For what, baby?" You brought a hand to his cheek, caressing it slowly.

"Can't do it." His words were vague, but the fact that he couldn't look you in the eyes gave away what he was talking about.

"Hey..." you sighed, giving him a tight hug. "It's okay, we don't have to. I mean, you never pressured me when I wasn't feeling like it. You have all the right in the world to say no. I'm actually very happy you did, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable, okay? You should have told me sooner, I didn't mean to..."

"No, Y/N, you don't get it." He interrupted you, closing his eyes. "I really want to, but I can't."

"Baby, you have to tell me what's going on, you're scaring me..." you tried one more time to get him to look at you, but he just wouldn't. "Are you okay?"

He didn't say anything. You took a moment to look at him. Maybe you should have done that before starting anything, because he clearly looked upset. Exhausted, frustrated... you just couldn't understand why he wasn't talking.

"I'm gonna go get you some water, okay?" You asked sweetly, and he just nodded.

The feeling when his lap lost contact with you was both a relief and the start of brand new paranoias. He needed space. Needed to be in silence for a moment. But... symbolically, it hit him hard. He felt like he was losing you and he wished he would be strong enough to stop it. To hold you tightly, even if it made it hard to breathe.

You came back with a glass of water and sat beside him on the sofa. He accepted the glass with a fake smile and just looked at it for a moment. You waited patiently until he took a sip. He visibly calmed down a little bit.

"Do you think you can talk now?" You spoke calmly. "Or do you want to rest a bit?"

He wasn't sure. There was no point in delaying it, but, at the same time, he didn't even know where to start.

"Okay, we'll rest a bit." You added after waiting for his response, but getting nothing. "Why don't we watch a movie and cuddle a bit? Wouldn't that be perfect?"

"I..." he spoke for the first time in what felt like hours for both of you. "I would love that."

You felt relief wash over you after hearing his voice. You were sure he would be back to normal and finally open up soon now.

You grabbed the remote and chose whatever silly rom-com popped up, just as a distraction. He sat more comfortably and you sat between his legs, snuggling on his chest. His arms wrapped around you and you allowed your body to relax.

No words were spoken during the first half of the movie. Sometimes, his arms would wrap around you extra-tightly, as the anxiety of losing you peaked again, and as he calmed down, he would relax again, kissing the top of your head.

The result of being so relaxed inside your lover's embrace after a long, stressful day was obvious: you fell asleep. When Jake noticed, he chuckled sadly. You were so beautiful. So young and breathtakingly pretty... His fingertips traced your cheeks very lightly, afraid he would wake you up. He wished he could freeze that moment right there. But he knew he couldn't. He knew that time was running, flying, specially for him. He felt like he was rotting right beside you, as you laid peacefully, like a marble sculpted goddess.

His mind was flooded with what happened earlier. You had long forgotten, but in his head, you went to sleep extremely sexually frustrated. He felt disgusted by his old man flaccid cock. He couldn't imagine how you would want to touch it. And he knew you had a high sex drive. One he was always able to satisfy, but... now? And it would only get worse. Every minute that passed, it was getting worse. An agonizing ache filled his chest again. He was losing you.

Your eyes fluttered open to find him looking at you with the saddest expression you had ever seen on him. He didn't even try to hide it. He kept stroking your face and gave your forehead a long kiss.

"Jakey..." you whispered.

"My love." He whispered, lips still touching your skin. "My sweet girl."

"Yes, baby." You smiled, placing your hands on top of his. "I'm your girl. All yours."

You couldn't understand why that was the wrong thing to say at the moment, since he loved to hear it, but it clearly was. He sighed and eliminated all forms of physical contact between the two of you, standing up and walking in circles in front of you.

That's when it hit you. It was obvious that he didn't want to tell you because you were the problem. He didn't want to have sex with you, because you disgusted him. You wondered how long he had been faking it, because he looked fine when you left for work that morning... he just didn't know how to do it, how to end things, because he was too nice to hurt you.

"I get it." You said, feeling your heart break. "Do you want me to leave?"

He stopped walking and looked at you.

"Baby..." he sighed.

"Don't call me baby." You replied, angrily. "I wish I had realized this before."

Your words hurt him more than a knife could ever do. So, he didn't have to say anything. In the end, you realized it all by yourself. Maybe it was his failure earlier? You didn't even want to try again to see if he could do it... well, maybe it was better like this. You couldn't waste your precious time and beauty with him anymore. And he was relieved that you realized that.

But his relief turned to panic as he saw you stand up and walk towards your shared bedroom. He followed you.

"What are you doing?" He questioned.

"Leaving." You spoke shortly, because if you tried to explain any further, you would cry, and you really didn't want to do that in front of him.

"But... but we should talk first..." he insisted. He knew you had to. He wanted the best for you, but when shit got serious, he started doubting everything.

"Oh, now you want to talk?" You clapped back, immediately regretting it. It didn't matter what he was doing to you, he was clearly having an anxiety attack earlier and you knew you should respect his time. "Shit, I'm sorry. I know you weren't feeling well, I just..."

"No, you're right." He interrupted you. "I was selfish. I shouldn't have allowed it to go this far."

"This far?" You frowned. "You're a fucking coward. What is it? You never fucking loved me, then you allowed me to move in and share a life with you for all these years because you didn't want to tell me the truth?"

"You can call me whatever you want." He raised his voice a bit. "But don't you dare think for a second that I didn't love you. Because I am going to love you for the rest of my life, I'm just trying to do what's best for you."

"Bullshit." You rolled your eyes, getting so close to him that your bodies touched, looking him in the eye, lips dangerously close. "Doing what's best for me is such BULLSHIT, fucking own what you're doing."

Well shit. Wrong time. A little late for that. But he was getting seriously turned on. Your anger. Your body and your words challenging him. The enormous sense of ownership he felt as soon as you said you were leaving... before he could think, he grabbed your wrists and pushed you against the wall, kissing you hungrily. Your hands tried to free themselves from his tight grip, but it was useless, the way his body pressed against yours made you absolutely weak.

"Don't do this, don't do it, please..." you begged as soon as he broke the kiss for air. "Don't fuck me cause you feel sorry for me, it's not fair..."

"I don't feel sorry for you." He was genuinely confused. "I fucking love you. Fucking love you, do you understand? Have to show you."

You didn't know anything anymore. Five minutes ago you were sure he didn't want you anymore... but that hunger in his eyes was the same one you saw every single time. Nothing changed. You didn't know what was his problem, all you knew was that you were going to let him take whatever he wanted from you, hoping to solve it.

His hands finally released yours, meeting your waist, but very differently from what they did earlier. This grip was familiar. The one used to keep your hips still as he absolutely destroyed your insides. Your body recognized it well and automatically made you crave him.

His lips left a trail of messy kisses and incomprehensible words all over your neck as his hips grinded against your lower abdomen, relieving the tension on his rock-hard cock. Part of him was terrified it would go away, so he kept going. And it was driving you CRAZY. He would often tease you, but that was another level.

"Jake, please, need you..." you begged.

Your words brought him back to the moment you said them earlier, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He had to keep up. If he disappointed you again, he knew he would have to let you go.

"Can't stop, baby, feels so good..." he replied, completely lost in the moment.

You moaned at the obscenity of the scene. The way your boyfriend grinded his cock desperately against you, so desperate he couldn't even wait to get undressed. The way his body had you pressed against the wall made it impossible for you to touch yourself. You knew you could come just from watching that scene if it went on for long enough. But it didn't.

Soon, his movements got messier.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum..." he moaned, teeth sinking into your neck.

"Come on, Jakey, do it..." you motivated him, desperate for it to end so you could get absolutely anything. "Cum for me, baby, need you to feel so good..."

"Fuck..." he moaned, hips bucking in a familiar way. He was so close.

"Yes, baby, keep going..." you smiled, as you saw him losing himself in pleasure. "Look at you, fucking cumming in your pants like a horny fucking teenager..."

That did it for him. He grunted like an animal. Came so much you could feel your belly wet from it, leaking through his pants.

"Fuck, Jacob." You rested your head against the wall, exhausted like you were the one who just came that hard. "What the hell was that?"

"I'm sorry." He kept his eyes shut, still pressed against you as he tried to catch his breath.

"Don't apologize, that was so fucking hot..." you moaned, pulling his hair.

"I don't want you to leave..." he whimpered.

You stopped everything. You were horny as hell, but there was something wrong with him and you needed to know. You couldn't stand the idea of fucking him then immediately getting dumped.

"Jake. I know you're struggling right now, okay? But you have to tell me what's going on if you want me to stay. At least... let me know if I did something wrong."

"You did nothing wrong." He separated your bodies, and you had to hold back a frustrated moan. He grabbed your hand and guided you to the bed, where you both sat down. "It's just... I've been thinking... you know what... it's so funny, you just called me a horny teenager..."

"Yeah, I mean, you just dry-humped me against a wall and blew a load in your pants, what am I supposed to say?" You smirked.

"Yeah, but I couldn't even get it up earlier." He said, frustratedly.

"Is that what this is about?" You frowned. "You're upset because..."

"Don't say it out loud." He cut you.

You started to laugh hysterically. And it didn't help that whenever you looked at his face, he looked like an absolutely confused idiot.

"What? Why are you laughing?" He tried to stop you.

"Jacob, that's so stupid." You took a deep breath to stop laughing. "So what? You're not a machine, it's okay if you don't feel like it sometimes. Oh god, if you hit me with the 'it never happened to me before', I swear I'm gonna laugh again."

"Well?" He thought he was supposed to be offended. But it really was kinda stupid, wasn't it? Some internalized sexism telling him to have a constant hard cock, ready to use, really for sex 24/7. He felt a little ridiculous. "I... I wasn't gonna say that, but I kinda have an explanation, if you want to hear it."

"Jake. You don't have to explain anything, baby." You reassured him. "It's not a problem. I'm glad we are talking about it, but it's not a big deal."

"No, you don't understand." He sighed. "I... listen, I know we've had this conversation before, but I feel like it's getting a little more real now. And I think we need to have it again, because you have to decide if this is still what you want."

Your eyes widened. Maybe it was a big deal.

"You're my everything, Y/N. But you're also... everything, just everything, you know? You're smart, and caring, and funny, and so fucking gorgeous, I can't... I can't describe what I see in you, what I know everyone out there sees in you." He continued. "And I can't help but feel like... I might not be enough for you in a few years. But then... after what happened earlier, I realized that I might... already not be good for you anymore."

"Jake..." you sighed. "You've been reading those stupid comments again?"

"No, no one told me anything, I've seen it with my own eyes." He explained. "I've seen pictures of us together and it's..."

"It's what?" You raised your eyebrows. "It's heavily edited or a terrible angle so the gossip pages can say I'm a gold digger? Or that you're some kind of monster who steal the innocence of helpless like girls?"

"Y/N..." he insisted. "We have to be realistic."

"Yes, Jake. Let's be realistic, then." You shrugged. "The truth is that I've been extremely happy, and all my emotional and physical needs completley satisfied. It's been like this for years and it will still be like this for years."

"You don't know that." He replied.

"Yes, I do. Trust me, I do." You caressed his face gently. "I'm sitting right in front of you and I'm seeing the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He has the same eyes he had on the movies I've seen before meeting him. The same gorgeous smile. I see some changes on your face and they make me so happy... to see that we're growing older together. That's a beautiful thing."

"I know, honey, but at some point I may not give you what you need anymore." He melted under your touch, placing a hand on top of yours.

"What if something happened to me tomorrow and you had to take care of me? And I was the one who couldn't give you anything anymore? Would you leave me?" You challenged him.

"It's different. That's probably not gonna happen. But we know that this is happening to me right now. And it will only get worse." He explained.

"There's nothing happening, Jake!" You chuckled. "Come on, you're healthier than me, you know that. And you know that what happened earlier only did because you were stressed."

"Maybe not?"

"Maybe not?" You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, I mean... it's so difficult for you to get an erection nowadays that you got one while I was fucking threatening to leave you."

He left out the most delicious laugh. That one he has. That one that turns your pupils into heart shapes.

"You're an IDIOT." You laughed with him, sitting on his lap and giving him a tight hug.

"I'm just worried about you. I just want to make sure you're happy." He sighed.

"Yes, sir, thanks for checking." You mocked him, but got back to a more serious tone afterwards. "It's okay if you want to have this conversation once in awhile. Just know that my answer is never going to change. I will always want you. I know things will change, but we went through so many changes already, and I love every single phase we live."

"Thank you." He whispered, gently grabbing your face for a passionate kiss. "I will always want you too."

He kept kissing you and for the first time in a while he didn't feel like time was rushing. He felt like he belonged on that moment. You, on the other hand, were getting a little impatient. You could feel his cock hardening again under you, and you craved it more than wanted to admit.

"Jake?" you whispered against his lips.

"I know, baby." He chuckled. "My girl needs a bit of attention, huh?"

"Yes, please..." you begged. "I'll take anything you give me, just... need your attention."

"My attention, little girl?" He asked sarcastically, picking you up from his lap and throwing you on the bed. "I know you better than that, think you need my cock."

You pressed your thighs together at his words. Big mistake. He forced them open, running his hand from your neck to your core. He had you bucking your hips at the mere contact of his hand over your clothes, and that made his confidence improve. Again, big mistake.

It's just that... you've been craving him all day, and the way there was still a wet patch of his cum on both of your clothes... it made you go feral.

He removed your pants, fingers rushing to rub your clit through your panties.

"No... no, Jake, please..." you tried to push his hand away.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asked, very confused. "I can fucking smell how wet you are."

"Exactly." You explained, still trying to push him away, but he kept teasing you. "Gonna cum so fast, I don't want to, I wanna ride you..."

"Fuck, baby..." he felt his cock throb at your words. "Will you be patient for me?"

"Don't want to..." you frowned.

"You don't want to?" He raised his eyebrows. "What do you want, then? To be a fucking brat? Tell you what... I'll only give you my cock if you cum first."

You moaned frustratedly as he pulled your underwear down. And moaned even louder when his tongue made contact with your core, diving into your wetness like he was tasting you for the first time. He devoured your pussy like he was trying to prove something to himself. But you were too lost in pleasure to worry about that. The noises, both coming from your wetness and from his mouth, cause he enjoyed eating you out just a little too much, were loud enough to make you feel like you had to scream.

"FUCK, I'M COMING, JAKE, I'M COMING RIGHT NOW, FUCK!"

And he didn't stop until you pushed his head with all the strength you had left.

"Good girl." He smirked. "Still wanna ride me? Or you're to tired?"

"Wanna ride you, give me a minute, fuck..." you shivered, just imagining something touching your sensitive pussy at that moment.

"Can't wait much, baby, I..." he seemed a little embarrassed. "Eating this gorgeous pussy got me too worked up..."

"Yeah?" You smirked. "Don't tell me you're gonna cum in your pants again... so pathetic..."

"Feeling brave, little girl?" He laughed darkly.

You didn't have an answer to that. And you didn't need one. He quickly flipped you over, giving your ass a loud slap.

You heard him undressing behind you, and got all excited. Ass in the air for him to use... except... he didn't. You heard him stroking himself. You looked back, begging him with your eyes.

But that only made him stroke himself faster, and you almost cried as you felt his cum painting your ass, without feeling an inch of his cock inside you.

"Next time you want something, you better be nice." He said, giving your ass another slap.

You were in shock. Wrecked and still wanting more.

"Now give this old man some rest." He said, grabbing your face and giving you a little kiss on the tip of your nose. "And if you behave, I might be nice too."

[absolutebl]

Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!

I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?

The things I had been told going in about this show:

it's about car racing (this bores me)

it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)

it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series

it's high heat

(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)

Here's a definition of omegaverse:

Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)

In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)

Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.

Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:

Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him

Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen

Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence

Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role

Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh

All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.

And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.

Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems

This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.

My initial reaction:

the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is

how dare

but also

what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?

we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?

apparently this is my reality now

I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,

yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...

Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars

and I'm beginning to think they may be right

BL is now the platypus of the film industry

4 days later:

Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.

But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.

On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?

More random thoughts:

Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.

The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...

Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)

Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.

None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!

I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.

Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.

How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.

I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)

Controlled burn?

Anygay, see you all next week.

Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once

[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]

3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)

Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.

Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).

Wait wait:

Calling Daddy Actual

(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)

Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.

Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.

Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)

Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.

Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.

File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.

Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.

This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.

Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?

Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.

Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?

Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.

Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.

nuh-uh

Linguistic corner!

Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.

Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.

I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.

Get it? Snake.

He and Babe should end up together.

The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?

Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.

Also...

WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)

I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.

Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.

Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.

But one should be with Noh.

Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux

Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.

How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.

I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.

Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.

Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.

Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.

Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.

Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.

I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.

So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.

#giveWayaboy2023

Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible

Here’s the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now it’s kind of like a soap opera. I don’t hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamanté scenery (completed with death glitter). But...

If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.

Instead, right now, I don’t know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. I’m kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. It’s uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers. 

Also... I have questions.

Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?

But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?

That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. It’s very traumatic and I’m not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying. 

On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:

There’s absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.

#giveWay2Kim2023

Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?

Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?

What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.

Plot thickens.

Hah.

Thickens.

(I am an immature idiot.)

Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?

Look, BLabies, I didn’t get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasn’t anything worth capturing.

I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now. 

Is that?

NO.

Don't get the plastic bowl.

No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope.  

I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.

AND the main boys are back together.

I don’t find their relationship or Babe’s lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.

Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.

BUT I do love the sides.

Jeff = the introvert precog who can’t/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesn’t understand him. 

Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants? 

I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.

On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!

In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and it’s probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.

Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?

This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.

Whatever.

Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.

Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?

The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)

Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.

Please & thank you. 

Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.

I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.

That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.

Hello, my gender is... enigma.

 Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e!  Also sometimes switch-ee 

Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.

Funfunfun

Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.

OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?

3 seconds later.

Noooo.

Wait come back.

Noooooo.

That’s what I actually want to watch! 

OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?

I flipping love Alan. 

Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.

Poor Way.

But nice crying jag, and I don’t say that often in Thai BL.

Now let him go, Way.

A boy with his arrows is waiting. 

(source)

Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 2

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: I was overwhelmed by the response on Part 1 (in the BEST way). 🥹 Thank you so much for everyone who read and sent me your lovely amazing comments! Here's Part 2 a bit early for ya. 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: Idiots flirting, with a side of sexual harassment. 😪

Part 2: "Lieutenant Winchester"

Firehouse 25 was just as much a house as it was a home.

Especially for Dean Winchester.

In the common room, he sat down at his preferred corner of the sofa with a cup of coffee. By now, the guys knew this was his spot, perfectly angled toward the new flatscreen TV someone donated last month.

Up until then, they’d had to hotwire the same tank from 1995, which had only got basic cable. Now at least the newer smart TV came with a subscription to Netflix, courtesy of the donor. 

Dean raised his favorite Batman mug to his face, expecting to imbibe some rich dark roast. What he got was a travesty.

Spitting out the brown soil water back into the mug, he coughed and grimaced.

“Jack!” he called out.

Jack Kline, the newest addition to the house, raised his head from where he was trying to scramble eggs in the open kitchen directly behind the couch.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he replied.

“Why does this coffee taste like ass?” Dean asked. His voice was still gruff with sleep, as he depended on his morning coffee to wake him up, not assault his tongue.

Behind him, Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh…”

Dean finally turned around and gave the younger man a raised brow.

“What brand did you buy, Candidate?” he asked.

A candidate was a freshly graduated firefighter on probation. They were the rookie, the bottom rung of the totem pole, and Jack was that proverbial whipping post.

“Um…” Jack went to find the coffee canister he’d put away in the cupboards. He showed Dean the red plastic jug. “Folgers. It was on sale.”

“Fuck me,” Dean muttered. “Never Folgers, Candidate. Anything but fucking Folgers. The one thing we don’t skimp out on is quality joe.”

“That ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son,” Benny remarked, as he and Gordon entered the common room. Benny held a to-go mug he’d brought from home. After he’d seen what Jack brought for groceries yesterday, he’d taken no chances.

“What you wanna get is Gevalia,” Benny added.

“That European crap?” said Gordon. He took his usual spot at the dining table, leaning back in his chair. It left Benny to sit at the other end of the couch with Dean.

“Better than that piss water you drink,” Benny said with a smirk. Gordon raised a brow at him.

“Tea is medicinal, jackass.” The Black man raised a finger to punctuate his point. “It’s good for you. Unlike that carburetor fluid y’all drink.”

“Whatever, man,” Dean said, even though a grin edged at his lips. “All I know is, we need premium coffee, stat. Or it’s gonna be a cranky shift.”

“I can go to the store real quick,” Jack offered.

Say what you want about the kid’s poor taste in grocery buying, he was always willing to jump in when you needed him.

“Nah, stay on breakfast,” said Dean. “I’ll go afterwards. But remember, today you’re practicing rappelling drills.”

Jack nodded. “And lunch duty. And helping clean the truck, and all the bathrooms…did I miss anything?”

Dean shared a look with Gordon. Not only did he drive the truck, but he was one of the men Dean relied on most, as he had the next highest seniority on the job out of the whole firehouse.

Well, except for Benny Lafitte, Captain of the Rescue Squad. Squad members were considered specialists in complex rescue situations. They were highly trained on more sophisticated technical rescue equipment and rappelling, even scuba diving.

It took long years for a firefighter to make it onto Squad; something that Dean used to have ambitions for. But ever since he got promoted to Lieutenant on Truck 79, he realized that his role in this house was best served on the Truck, not on Squad.

“If he gets through all that, Meg might have something for him too,” Gordon said.

“Oh, don’t bring me into this,” remarked a droll voice. “I’ve already got one pound puppy to look after.”

Their Paramedic in Charge strode in with Chuck on her heels. They’d just pulled into the firehouse driveway on Ambulance 7.

“Nice. That’s how you talk about your partner of three years?” Chuck said with a frown. Meg turned to him with a wry grin.

“Only the ones who can hack it on my Ambo,” she replied. “What can I say. You’re special, Shurley. Either that, or a glutton for punishment.”

Gordon shook his head and looked over at Jack.

“Careful with that one. She chewed and hacked out her last partner in under a month.”

“Poor guy didn’t even transfer,” Dean added, making a “flatlining” motion with his hand. “He just quit. Dropped out of the Fire Academy that same day.”

Not all firefighters were made through Meg’s department, but it was a common route, working as a paramedic while getting put through your paces in the Fire Academy. Dean himself had gone straight to the Academy after getting his EMT certification.

But at Dean’s words, Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. Meg turned to him with an almost feline smile. 

“How was the call?” Benny asked her, speaking of the job they’d just returned from. Meg’s expression dimmed a little, as did Chuck’s as they both sat down at the table.

“Ah, just Henry again,” she said. “Overdosed on his insulin.”

Benny frowned, while Dean shook his head. Jack’s brows furrowed.

“Who’s Henry?” he asked.

Meg sat back in her chair with a subtle sigh. Knowing his work partner’s mood, Chuck answered the young man’s question.

“He’s homeless, lives by the river,” he said. “He’s one of our ‘regulars,’ you could say. When we get the call, usually he’s passed out. Dehydration. But sometimes it’s more serious.”

“You can’t take him to the hospital?” Jack asked in concern.

“Today we did,” Meg said. Her brown eyes met Jack’s, her mouth in a thin line. “But without health insurance, there’s only so much they can do after they get him stable.”

That fell a bit heavily into the room. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it was the reality. Jack was learning more and more about that aspect of this job, and learning if he could handle the darker shades of what it could bring.

“Well, breakfast is ready,” he said, bringing a large plate of eggs and toast onto the counter. Dean tossed him an appreciative half-smile and got up from the couch.

“Thanks, kid,” he said, walking over along with everyone else. He took a moment to pat Jack on the shoulder.

“What do you want to do first: run drills, or help me and Gordon wash the truck?” Dean asked.

Jack looked up with a smile. “Can we run drills first?”

Dean nodded, grinning back at him. “Good answer.”

The rest of the Truck and Squad crews ambled in at both the announcement and the smell of food. And before long, the common room was filled with conversation, good-natured teasing, and shitty coffee all around.   

From his vantage point facing the open door to the driveway, Benny caught sight of a young woman heading towards the double doors with a large tupperware bin in hand. Bonnie the receptionist happened to be coming in at the same time. You asked her a question Benny couldn’t quite hear.

“Dean… Oh, you’re looking for Lieutenant Winchester?” Bonnie asked. Her voice tended to carry. “Right in there, hun.”

“Well, that sure is interesting,” Benny murmured with a smile. He glanced over slyly at his friend. “Heads up, brother.”

Dean looked up from his plate of eggs expectantly. Benny gestured over with his eyes, just as you walked into the firehouse, both cautious and unsure of where you were going.

Dean’s brows raised. He found himself setting down his plate and getting up from the couch before he really knew what he was doing.

You looked exactly how he remembered. Though this time, you weren’t coffee stained in your professional blouse and black pencil skirt. His attention drew briefly downwards to your heels, this time solid black (and even taller than the last pair, damn).

He noticed all the same things he had last time: the shade of your hair, pinned up again with a clip as stray pieces framed your face. The way you carried yourself when you finally saw him, straightening with a subtle confidence in your shoulders, even though you looked a bit nervous. And the pretty curve of your lips when your eyes found his.

“Hey, there,” Dean said. He gave you one of his trademark smiles. “Good to see you again.”

“Uh, hi,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you remember me.”

Dean nodded. “‘Course I do. What can I do for you?”

Your face seemed to freeze up a bit as you looked up at him.

“Oh, um, nothing really. I just wanted to say thank you, again,” you said. And you glanced past him, where the rest of the firehouse members were discreetly watching. “All of you, actually. And my friend told me that firefighters really like food…but, I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

You laughed a little, in a nervous way that made Dean struggle not to smile too much.

“Anyway, I like to bake,” you twittered on, “and I had some time this week after…well, you know what happened. So…I brought this!”

You raised up your tupperware with a smile.

And you were damn adorable, Dean thought. His own smile deepened as he glanced down at the offering, then at you. He took the container and opened the lid, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.

He could’ve sworn these were Bonafede, just-poured-out-of-the-box Girl Scout cookies. Dozens of them. He saw shortbreads (complete with the little wavy lines), Samoa cookies with the coconut flakes, and even what looked like chocolate covered Thin Mints. They also smelled delicious.

“Wow. Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, with genuine warmth. “I’m pretty sure the guys are gonna tear these apart the second I put ‘em down.”

Your face brightened, and Dean noticed how it reached your eyes with a bit of a blush.

“Well, I hope you guys enjoy,” you said. Your hands fiddled with your purse next.

“Heading off to work now?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, with a certain glint in your eye. “I plan on taking the stairs this time.”

Dean raised a brow. “All 22 floors?”

“Gotta get my steps in somehow,” you joked. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to become a repeat offender, make you guys come all the way back across town again.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, meeting your eyes. And he found that he meant it. In fact, he didn’t think he’d mind if your building’s elevator broke down every damn week.

Your expression shifted towards amusement. “Well, you must be very dedicated to your job.”

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you. He had half a mind to heed his instincts, to take advantage of the signals he thought you were sending him, and ask if he could take you out sometime.

But it was unprofessional here at the firehouse (not that that had stopped him before). He’d been making efforts to curb that kind of behavior for the past few months.

He also remembered the 30 floors of your massive, fancy office building. He considered the price tags that probably came with the admittedly sexy, high-powered corporate look you had going on. Those were probably a lot more zeros than he was used to seeing on his paycheck.

So for once, he didn’t pull the trigger.

“Well, thanks. I really do appreciate that,” Dean replied. His smile then was more sincere, if also more professional. He gestured at the container in his hand. “And on behalf of all the guys, thanks for this too.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I have to go, but…thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester.”

“Ah,” he shook his head, “just call me Dean.”

You agreed by smiling, just a little bit more.

“Dean.”

He nodded back, sending you off with a smile of his own. He forced himself to taper it down after you left, and he had to turn around to meet his friends. Their grins reminded him of piranhas.

“All right. Out with it, you freakin’ jackals.” He waved his free hand in a “bring it on” gesture.

Meg was the first one to burst out laughing. It spearheaded the rest of them, whooping and catcalling and generally being menaces. Even Jack was grinning at his lieutenant’s expense.

Meg got up from her seat and bumped Dean’s shoulder on her way to the kitchen, where she dumped her dishes.

“Thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester,” she mocked in a saccharine sweet voice. Then she lowered it into an exaggerated mimic of his deeper one, “Call me Dean, baby girl. Fucking priceless. You should get your own Hallmark movie.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He’d been prepared for this, but his face was still getting warm.

“Shut up, Meg,” he tossed back. They all had an ongoing Family Guy joke that never failed to make their PIC narrow her eyes. And she did so now, giving him a fake grimace as she left the kitchen.

“All right, kiddos. If you need me, don’t,” she said. “Chuck! Let’s sort the ambo’s inventory.”

“Got it,” her partner nodded. He too got up and placed his dishes in the sink before he took off after Meg.

This left Dean with the rest of the guys, who still gave him knowing smiles as he set your bin of cookies down on the table. He blew out a breath before he returned to the couch and sat down heavily across from Benny and Gordon.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Dean Winchester bitched out,” Gordon remarked.

Once again, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Truly incredible,” Benny added. He shook his head when Dean just crossed his arms. “She was eying you like a pork cutlet, and you just let her walk outta here.”

“We’re in the house, guys. What was I supposed to do?” Dean groused.

Benny and Gordon looked at him like he’d just denounced Led Zeppelin (his favorite band of all time). 

“Get her goddamn number, Winchester,” said Gordon. The man’s lips curved. “Or at least, introduce her to a brother.”

Dean shot him a glance. Gordon Walker was damn good at driving the truck, but he was also known for being a hunter of the ladies himself.   

“She seemed nice,” Jack put his two cents in with a smile. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it. Gordon scoffed, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah, with a fat ass too,” he said, sipping his tea. 

Benny reached over and hit his shoulder to shut him up. 

“That’s a lady, Gordon,” he said. Though a suspect smile graced his lips as he glanced at Dean. “A lady with a nice ass.” 

Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t disagree. The first time he met you, he’d been impressed by the way you stood your ground with your asshole boss. Dean thought you were going to chuck that lethal looking heel at the guy. But behind that steely exterior was a kind little softie.

Today, he got your sweet side. It was equal parts sexy and adorable. 

And damn if you didn’t have a nice ass, nice curves, and a nice mouth. 

But your eyes, he thought. Those were nothing short of beautiful. 

About twenty minutes across town, an apartment building was swarmed by police cars. One unit in particular was sealed off with yellow caution tape as a team of officers drifted in and out. 

What a fucked way to die.

Detective John Winchester observed the unnatural angle that the victim—Jerry Stillwell, a certified public accountant—had his throat cut with a jagged weapon.

It hadn’t been clean in the least. And he’d bled out across his work desk and a stack of papers, as well as his desktop computer. He was 45, unmarried, and murdered in his own home in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

The computer wouldn’t turn on, and not because of the blood. It had been wiped with magnetized technology, most likely by the intruder. Though there was no sign of forced entry, according to John’s partner. The murder weapon was missing as well, though it looked like a knife wound.

John leaned over the on-site medical examiner’s shoulder to peer closer at the man’s wounds. Stillwell had most likely been grabbed from behind. So far, the signs pointed to the culprit being someone the victim knew.

They probably took Stillwell by surprise, but he was a large man. If John had to guess, over 250 pounds, unathletic, but still, not easy to overpower. Likely the suspect was a man over 6 feet; strong, and efficient. Though the messiness of the kill made John think this guy took "pride" his work, so to speak.

“Signs of struggle,” said the M.E. “Skin under the fingernails. He fought back, and…huh.”

John’s interest piqued at the man’s shift in tone. “What?”

“Take a look at this.” The M.E. was holding Stillwell’s right hand, palm-up, revealing a small burn on the inside of the wrist. John’s gaze sharpened on the mark.

“Cas, come here,” he said. Across the room, Detective Cas Novak paused in his task of examining the entry points of the apartment to join John at his side. His blue eyes widened a fraction at seeing the burn. It was a symbol of a snake eating its own tail.

“That makes four,” Cas said.

“Yep. We’ve got ourselves a murder cluster,” John said. Cas nodded. He beckoned John to the side, making sure the M.E. was out of earshot before he spoke. “Isn’t it time we brought Sam up to speed on this, at least?”

John’s brows furrowed.

“No,” he said. “Sam’s an ADA. We don’t go to him until we have someone to indict.”

He walked away from Cas, who frowned. John knew damn well that wasn’t what he meant. This was the fourth murder within six months of this nature. The fourth to be branded with the mark of Azazel…a criminal who supposedly disappeared decades ago.

Shortly after November 2, 1983, the day of Mary Winchester’s death.

Seeing Dean again had gone better than you thought it would. It left you feeling light and downright cheerful when you left the firehouse this morning. Unfortunately, the great start to your morning only crumbled when you reached your office.

Now, even at the end of your day, finally back at home and in the familiarity of your kitchen, the tension headache was back.

“Dre, I’m tired. Can’t we do this another night?” you asked.

Your cell phone was balanced between your ear and your shoulder as you counted out your grandfather’s pills, and placed them in each “Monday through Sunday” box in the blue container.

“No, we absolutely cannot. Because today was horrific,” Andréa said. “For me, because my coworker decided to play hookie on the day our top account needed the mockups of their new website. Never mind that she hadn’t even started.”

Pause for an aggravated breath, through which you frowned in sympathy. She’d told you the entire story over lunch today.

“And for you, because Nick once again displayed why he’s a subhuman neanderthal, in spectacular fashion,” she added.

Your grimace deepened at the reminder.

Earlier today, just before a sales meeting you were set to lead, you’d turned away from the conference table to set up the projector. Nick was early for once, making it just him and you in the room.

He’d sat back in his chair and uttered a remark that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“I’ll tell you what, babe. You sure know how to wear a skirt.”

Your back straightened, and slowly you turned. Your face was set in stone, save for a solitary raise of your brow.

“Excuse me?”

Nick’s smirk was lazy as he kicked his feet up on the table. His hand held a tumbler of whiskey. You noted the half empty carafe, which just yesterday had been full and untouched.

“Fucking fantastic legs,” he said, vaguely outlining your shape with his hand. “I applaud you. It’s all very…sexy secretary. Oooh! Sexcretary. Fucking brilliant.”

You gaped, trying to put a clamp on the furious spike in your blood.

“Are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.

He raised his fingers an inch or so apart, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh.

“Actually nah, not at all,” he bluffed. 

He let his hand fall back into his lap. You shook your head and set down your papers in order to cross your arms.

“Good. Then you’ll hear me clearly when I say, I’m filing a formal complaint with Billie in HR,” you said.

“Whaaat? Why?” he complained. You huffed incredulously.

“For your little comments, which are getting more and more heinous. Not to mention your excessive drinking during company hours.”

Nick pursed his lips. “Christ on a stick. Can’t you take a fucking compliment?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “What I refuse to take is any further sexual harassment. This isn’t the first incident I could disclose, but I’m damn sure you’ll want it to be the last.”

He kicked his feet off the table and slowly stood. You didn’t want to be afraid of this sloppy, frat boy drunken attitude, but a tendril of trepidation still laced down your spine as you took a step back.

“You could do that,” he nodded, tilting his head. “Or, I’ll give your Zimmerman account to Josh, along with your commission.”

You frowned, and shock made your entire body tense. 

“You…you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. Your insides fairly shook with frustration tinged with anger. “I’ll sue you.”

“With what money?” Nick scoffed.

Your brows knitted together then. How the hell would he know anything about your finances?

The man noted your reaction with a nod.

“Yeah, I know all about grammy and gramps. Surgeries, funerals, treatments…” he said. He leaned against the table with one hand, and still he fairly loomed over you.

He wasn't as broad as someone like Dean, but he was tall and lean. His dirty blonde hair was swept to the side, his blue eyes bearing down on you.

“I am this company. If you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out, sweetheart,” he said.

His gaze lowered, roaming your glowering face.

“And good luck getting anywhere else without a reference from one of the biggest corporations in Lawrence, Kansas.”

You sighed. Yeah, you might’ve shed some frankly embarrassing tears in the women’s bathroom after that. You hadn’t even told Andréa the full story, which included the details of his comments, along with his threats.

You didn’t want her to worry. And maybe, more selfishly, you were embarrassed at having to deal with it at all.

Truth be told, you still didn’t know what the hell you were going to do. About Nick, or your job…but somehow, getting drunk at a bar seemed about the last thing you should be doing.

“I need a drink,” Andréa insisted. “Which means you definitely need a drink. And I know exactly where we’re going.”

After a long moment, you leaned your elbows on the kitchen counter and rubbed through the persistent ache in your forehead. Maybe, just this once, you deserved to forget about reality. Just for a little while.

“Fine. Where?” you asked.

“It’s this great bar Meg told me about. The Roadhouse.”

“Ah, the usual suspects,” Ellen drawled at the men who managed to find seats at her bar, next to the rest of their party. The Roadhouse was packed on a Friday night, but she always had room for these two.

Benny and Dean wore similar tired, but pleasant smiles as they greeted their esteemed barkeep.

“What’s it been, Ellen, a whole shift since I’ve seen your delightful face?” Dean said.

Ellen gave him a mocking smile as she poured him his favorite beer on tap. Dean grinned and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he sat down. He and Cas had been waiting for a little while.

…Well, maybe longer than a little.

“Hey, dude,” Dean said. Sam perked up from his second beer with pursed lips.

“You know we’ve been waiting on you for like an hour, right?” he said.

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy,” Dean teased. He nodded his thanks at Ellen when she set his beer in front of him, and a glass of whiskey for Benny. “We had a last-minute call. Some guy just couldn’t wait to start his Happy Hour. Drove his car into the company fountain.”

Sam’s brows raised incredulously. He looked over at Benny for confirmation, and the other man gave a resigned nod.

“Apparently it set the ducks into a tizzy,” he said. “The guy’s fine. Probably gonna get slapped with a DUI.”

Dean smirked and raised a finger at both Sam and Cas. “Duck Guy’s your problem now.”

Cas shook his head and raised his beer to his lips.

“Not my department.”

“Mine either,” Sam scoffed. Both of them worked in homicide cases, just from the differing sides of law and order. In fact, they worked together more often than Dean and Cas did.

Dean looked over at his friend Cas for a moment. He looked like more of a hot mess than usual, with his tie half undone, and a scruffy half-beard covering his face.

“Geez, man. You look like shit,” Dean remarked. “You and Meg fighting again?”

“No,” Cas replied, his brows furrowing. “…Well, yes. But nothing more than her usual insanity. Something about the cat preferring to sleep next to me than to her.”

“Well, that’s not so bad,” Benny said. “My dog don’t like her either.”

“Maybe they can smell that she’s feral,” Dean quipped. Cas sent him a dry look at that.

“She threatened to move out,” he revealed. “Even packed a bag at 3:00 in the morning. I spent two hours unpacking what she was re-packing, all while we argued in our underwear, not sleeping.”

Sam and Dean shared bemused looks, while Benny shook his head into his whiskey.

“So how’d it end up?” Sam asked. Cas sighed and took another long sip of his beer.

“Like it always ends, Sam,” he said, his lips quirking. “With our neighbors calling the precinct to complain, and me, somehow ending up sleeping on the couch for a crime I didn’t commit. If she wants to blame someone, blame the goddamn cat.”

Dean chortled. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t resist a light jab at his best friend first.

“Dude, I love her like a sister, but your girlfriend’s unhinged,” he said.

Cas could only nod. “Most are, I’ve come to find.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head. “Not mine.”

“Yeah, that’s because Eileen doesn’t have to see you more than two minutes at a time,” Dean teased. He and his brother still shared an apartment, and Sam’s job as an Assistant District Attorney wrought demanding hours.

Sam shot his brother a flat look.

“Oh, I’m not taking that from the serial playboy,” he said.

Dean’s brows knitted together.

“All right, calm down,” he said. “I’m not Hugh Hefner.”

“Mr. Hit and Run,” Cas added, a smirk gracing his features.

“Chief ‘No Daddy Issues,’” Benny tipped in, giving his annoyed, green-eyed friend a sly glance. “With a side helping of the Clap.”

Dean’s lips pressed into a line. He leveled a finger at Benny.

“That girl was clean, okay? False alarm,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward as he sipped his beer. Thank Christ for that one. “The rash was just carpet burn.”

Sam shook his head and turned to his brother more seriously.

“Bottom line: until you date a woman for more than two weeks—hell, two days at a time—you don’t get to comment on the happily committed,” he said. 

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew his track record with relationships. As in, he didn’t really have a record…but it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least, not for the past few months.

Sam managed to break Dean out of his thoughts by clearing his throat, pushing his empty bottle across the counter.

“All right, speaking of. I gotta go,” he said.

“Aw, why? We just got here. Let me buy you another,” Dean offered.

Sam shot his brother another knowing look. Dean knew it well; it said, if he’d been here on time, they would’ve shared the first two drinks.

“I’m picking up Eileen,” Sam said, grabbing his blazer and fixing the collar when he put it on. “There’s this Latin club she wants to go to.”

Dean raised incredulous brows.

“My brother’s going salsa dancing?”

Sam sighed in exasperation, despite his smile. “Bye, Dean.”

He shot his other two friends a nod.

“See you guys.”

Cas and Benny both saw him off with a subtle raise of their drinks, while Dean just shook his head.

“All right, Samantha,” he called out. Sam didn’t bother to turn around as he raised up a choice finger behind him.

Dean snorted into his drink. “Very mature.”

Benny and Cas shared a wry look. They were relieved when Ellen’s daughter Jo came by, picking up the slack for her mom, who was serving a rowdy group of college kids at a nearby table.

“Hey, guys. Need another round?” Jo asked. She gave them all a familiar smile, but her eyes lingered on Dean. He gave her a more reserved smile back.

“Hey, Jo,” he nodded. “I uh…actually think I’m good right now.”

“Me too,” Cas said. He even stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat in similar fashion as Sam had. The two had paid for their beers before Benny and Dean even got there.

“Aw, not you too,” Dean groused.

“If I don’t make dinner, we run the risk of the apartment going up in flames,” Cas informed him. Dean could only assume he was talking about Meg. “Despite working with the Fire Department for ten years, the woman can’t manage to boil an egg without supervision.”

Jo raised a brow, but her smile was bemused as she turned to Benny. “Anything for you?”

“Nah, darlin’. I’m good,” he said. But sensing the unspoken request in her eyes when she glanced at Dean, Benny straightened and raised from his seat. “But I’ll be back. Need’a hit the head.”

Dean internally sighed as Benny left him alone at the bar. Or, well, relatively alone. Jo lingered in front of him to wash and dry out a few glasses. The air between them was stiff, and a little awkward.

Dean’s thoughts shifted back to his brother then; while he still couldn’t believe Eileen had wrangled his gangly Sasquatch of a brother into going dancing, Dean was happy for him. Truly and sincerely. Sam deserved having someone who softened him, made him break away from his endless cases and have some fun.

Dean could also admit, if only to himself, that he was maybe a little jealous. Sam had something good with his girl. Something real.

Dean had carpet burn.

“So, how’s studying going?” he asked Jo. He couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Still planning on giving your mom a heart attack when you get into the Police Academy?”

Jo’s blue eyes flicked up to his. She brushed a coil of blond hair behind her ear after she finished drying a glass, and a smile raised the corner of her lips.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I gave her something to yell about,” she quipped. “But since you asked…my exam is in three months.”

“Good,” Dean nodded. “You’ve got time. Study your ass off. Keep up the conditioning routine I gave you, and you’ll be set. Just don’t forget the strength training. Very important.”

“I got it,” she said, this time with a brighter smile. “Some old firefighter gave me some pointers.”

Dean tilted his beer at her accusingly.

“Hey, don’t pin that old shit on me yet. Benny’s got more mileage than I do…”

He considered her then, after briefly looking down at the counter.

“What?” she said.

He kept his lips tight. “Nothin’.”

“No, Dean. What?” Jo pressed. “You want to say something. Say it.”

He blew out a breath and shook his head.  

“Ellen’s not the only one who’s gonna worry about you on the job, that’s all,” he said. Jo flickered at a rueful frown.

“That’s ironic,” she said. “I can handle myself, Dean. Something you so often seem to forget.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he shot back. His hand tightened around his beer.

Jo’s face fell into irritation, mostly to cover up the hurt he saw buried deep behind her eyes. She gave him some relief by glancing away from him.

“And this is why we didn’t work out,” she muttered. Sighing through her nose, her eyes met his again. “You know what I hate, more than anything? People worrying.”

Dean carded his fingers through his hair, his brows knitting together in aggravation.

“Yeah, well, maybe they have good reason to,” he said. He could’ve predicted the way she tightened up. “And if I remember right, you did your fair share of hand-wringing the next time I responded to a fire on the job.”

He knew it was a low blow. But his point was made, and he fully expected the anger in Jo’s tight frown. They’d dated for a few weeks, mostly in secret.

That had been enough for Ellen to blow her top. Not because she had anything against Dean…just his job: at the very same firehouse her late husband had once served.

So Dean had backed off. He’d ultimately felt he had to end it. And clearly, Jo still resented him for it.

Slowly, however, the fire in her eyes dimmed. Her finger tapped on her side of the bar counter.

“You think I don’t worry anymore just because we’re not together?” she asked him. 

Dean didn’t have a good answer for her. So his gaze fell to his nearly empty beer.

But he was even more relieved when Benny finally got back from the bathroom, or wherever he’d fucked off to for the past few minutes.

He did seem to know that he was interrupting a rather tense moment. Seeing as neither Dean nor Jo wanted to break the silence, Benny supposed it fell on him.

He reclaimed his seat and raised a smile up at Jo.

“I think I’m ready for the next round,” he said, glancing at Dean’s soured mood. “Two whiskeys, please, Joanna.”

Jo treated Benny with a half-smile. He was the only one besides her mother who called her Joanna (and got away with it). After one last look at Dean, she reached over for the Jim Beam.

You met Andréa at the bar in your own car, just in case you needed to dip out early to check on Grandpa George. He was happy to see you going out.

“You’re pretty as a doll, sweetheart,” he’d said, patting your cheek after you kissed his goodbye.

The thought made you smile, even though you thought you were dressed casually in your dark wash jeans and blouse. When Andréa met you outside the bar, she nodded in approval.

“Good. I like the hint of sexy,” she said, plucking at the sweetheart neckline of your top. You rolled your eyes and tried to cover up the cleavage a little, but she batted at your hand.

“No, no. Leave your professionalism at work,” she said. “Tonight, you’re going to relax and have some fun.”

It was hard to think about loosening up when you were literally getting belittled and threatened at work…but you supposed she had a point. You always had to be put together. You had to be sharp, because this world wouldn’t hand you anything on a silver platter.

And not to mention, you couldn’t just think about yourself. You also had to provide and take care of your grandfather too. He was the only family you had left, and you were it for him too…

But you took in a slow, deep breath. Tonight, you could have a couple of drinks with your friend. You could just be yourself, with no responsibilities other than not getting too drunk to drive yourself home later.

So with a sigh, you smiled and linked your arm with Andréa as you headed inside the Roadhouse.

It looked kind of divey from the outside, a worn-looking brown building with a faded red sign. But inside it was all dark wood and leather barstools and rows of soft lighting overhead.

There were records displayed on the wall; Prince’s Purple Rain, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, among others. Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” played on the wall speakers.

There were several tables, both high top and regular four-seaters, as well as a long bar that spanned the far wall, where rows and rows of liquor were showcased. You followed Andréa’s lead to the bar, where you took a seat at the far end and tried to feel like you belonged here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to a place like this.

“This is nice,” she leaned over into your ear to say. “Next time my cousin should meet us here. She’s a handful, but I think you’d like her.”

You agreed with a smile. “If she’s anything like you, I think I’m well trained to handle your brand of insanity.”

Andréa leveled you with a playfully mocking look.

“Ah, you’ve got jokes tonight. Okay.” She waved over the blonde bartender.

“Hi, ladies,” she greeted. “I’m Jo. What’re we starting off with tonight?”

Before you could order for yourself, Andréa grabbed your arm and spoke over you.

“Do you have absinthe?” she asked.

Your eyes widened. “What?! I’m not drinking that—”

“Sure do,” Jo replied in amusement.

“Great,” said Andréa. You didn’t like her sly grin. “She’ll have an Aunt Roberta. I’ll have a vodka cranberry.”

“What the hell is an Aunt Roberta?” you asked.

Jo listed the ingredients on her fingers. “A nice molotov of brandy, vodka, gin, blackberry liqueur, and of course, absinthe.”

Jesus Christ. You shot Andréa a glare, even though you were trying to dim your smile.

“Are you trying to chill me out or fucking end me?” you asked.

Andréa smirked. “Whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your agreement. Jo’s smile remained as she went to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, your eyes wandered as you once again took in your surroundings.

Really is a cool place, you thought. And it was busy without being overbearingly crowded. There were even a few seats between you and the rest of the patrons at the bar. Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

AN: *rubs hands together* It begins. 😏

Lol how'd you like Dean's little moment with the reader at the firehouse? Plus the introduction of the rest of our cast!

(And a possible serial killer on the loose?) Though sorry about Nick. He's a douchecanoe.

Next Time:

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said.

Keep Reading: PART 3

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[xxsabitoxx]

Love, Don't Be Shy

Sweet like candy | Gojo Satoru x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Suggestive-ish content but mostly fluff

A/N: More Satoru fluffy domestic content to heal the soul.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k (exactly, may I add)

You sniffed yet another bottle of perfume, mildly thankful that you hadn’t given yourself a headache just yet. You were in desperate search of a perfume to surprise your boyfriend with, one that he would love and that would satisfy his insatiable sweet tooth. In hindsight, it would have made more sense to drag Satoru along with you. That way you’d know you picked the right perfume because he’d be there with you to tell you. But, you wanted to surprise him, so you set down the bottle you had just smelt and grabbed the coffee bean shaker yet again. Turns out coffee acts as a reset button for your nose, it was probably why you could still smell at this point. 

You reached for another bottle, grabbing a tester strip and spraying the contents twice. Shaking the paper so it would dry faster, you brought the strip to your nose and inhaled. You nearly gasped in the middle of the small store, immediately knowing that this perfume was the one. You grabbed the bottle, reading over the label and smiling as marshmallow, honeysuckle and vanilla were listed among other sweet scents. “Perfect…” you whispered triumphantly, knowing immediately that Satoru would love it. Within five minutes your two hour perfume excursion had ended and you were nearly bouncing home with the bottle in tow. 

You arrived home before him, giving you plenty of time to change into comfier clothes and practically douse yourself in the sugary sweet scent. As you threw yourself down on the couch, the front door to your shared apartment opened. “I’m home!” he called, not expecting you to be sitting on the couch. “Oh! Well hello.” he grinned at you, undoing his blindfold as he turned to shut and lock the front door. “Well hello to you too, mister.” you grinned as he tossed the blindfold on the dining table before striding across the room to practically tackle you with his affection. You laughed as he climbed on top of you, forcing you into a lying position as he nuzzled his face into your neck. You couldn’t contain your smile as you felt him freeze. 

Satoru sniffed once, twice, three times before pulling his head up to look down at you with creased brows. “You smell good, baby.” It was genuine but you could tell he was a little suspicious. “You think so?” you comment softly, hands reaching up to run through his hair. “I do, you smell really good, really sweet… I like it.” Satoru shamelessly bent down to drag his nose up your neck, smelling the perfume mixing with your natural scent. You laughed, the ticklish sensation making you squirm a bit before he stopped and placed a kiss on your jawline. “Did you buy a new perfume or something?” Still, Satoru wasn’t taking many breaks before his nose was somewhere else on your body. “I–ha–Satoru that tickles! I-I did buy a new perfume.” 

“Just for me?” he commented softly, placing a kiss on your chin, then your neck, shoulder, your sternum, inhaling each time he did. “Just for y-you…” you nearly hiccuped, having gasped in enough air to cause them. “That’s so sweet of you baby… fuck you smell amazing.” it seemed you had made the right choice, Satoru couldn’t get enough of it. “I’m so glad you think so, it wasn’t all that cheap.” you laugh again as he pushes himself up to hover over you, a goofy grin spreading across his lips as he looks down at you. “You’re fucking adorable, you know that?” That goofy grin only seemed to grow wider as you became visibly shy. “Cmon love, don’t be shy.” Satoru cooed as he leaned down to hover his lips just above yours. “You’re so perfect.” 

This time you made a noise, something like a squeak as he laughed softly. “I mean it, you’re adorable to go out and buy a perfume you’d know I like… which is also very impressive. You know me so well, baby.” Your eyes squeezed shut, unable to bear the teasing but genuine tone of his words. “Satoru…” you whined, head turning away from him just before he could slot his lips over yours. Instead, they landed against your cheek, causing him to hum in dissatisfaction. “I’ve seen every square inch of your body, I’ve been inside of your body, yet me calling you adorable, praising you, calling you love and baby has you turning into a flustered mess… I don’t get it.” He chided, laughing a little as you opened your eyes to look at him in surprise. “Satoru!” 

“It’s the truth! You get so shy when I praise you, which just makes you even more adorable.” this time he managed to land his lips on yours, humming in satisfaction as you easily gave in. It took Satoru a minute to process one other key thing, pulling away with a soft smack of his lips. “Vanilla lip balm… you’re full of surprises today.” you laughed again, smiling up at him with an equally goofy grin. “I know you love sweet things, Toru… I wanted to surprise you.” your eyes shifted over to a bag you had left by the tv stand, your empty perfume bag beside it. Satoru recognized  the bag color immediately, only one shop the two of you frequented had bags that color. “You didn’t…” he rasped out, cheeks turning pink. “Oh I did.” 

The bag was from your local “adult” store, flavored lubes were inside. “What ones did you get?” he questioned with dilated pupils, immediately intrigued by the idea. “Oh they have a ton, Toru. Salted caramel, brown sugar, vanilla, cinnamon bun, blueberry muffin, birthday cake…” he audibly groaned, shoulders shaking with laughter a moment later. “I love you.” it was so light and genuine that you could have melted on the spot. Giggling, you responded “I love you too, Toru.” You smiled as he kissed your forehead, cheeks, nose, and finally your lips before clamoring off of you to go look in the bag. “Holy shit you got them all?” all the flavors you had named plus a few fruity ones, just in case. “I did, the worker looked a little jealous.” You laughed as you sat up. 

“They had every right to be…” there was a new tone in his voice, one that had heat starting to pool in your gut. “We’re trying all of these tonight, I hope you know that.” You sighed, “Satoru, I have work in the morning.” but you knew that was a useless excuse. 

“Yeah? Looks like you’ll be calling out, baby.”

[ihareyhis]

Spideys as incorrect quotes pt2

Hobie: *Kicks the door down*

Pavitr: What did you do?

Hobie: Nobody died.

Pavitr: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

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Miguel: What do you call disobeying the law?

The Squad: A hobby.

Miguel: *crosses their arms*

The Squad: That we do not engage in

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Pavitr: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this?

Hobie: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

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Pavitr, pointing at Hobie: Are they a Freak (derogatory)?

Pavitr, pointing at Gwen: Or a Freak (affectionate)?

Miles: Why not both?

Pavitr, to Miles: You’re so right, Freak

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

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

Hobie: *crouches down*

Gwen: *kneels down*

Miles: *sits on the floor*

Pavitr: I hate you all

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

Miles: How do Hobie and Pavitr usually get out of these messes?

Gwen: They don't. They just make a bigger mess that cancels the first one out.

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

Gwen: Hey Pavitr.

Pavitr: *punches Gwen in the stomach*

Gwen: What the fuck?

Pavitr: You are one of my very best friends. And I cannot stand by and watch you throw away your life like this. You're too young....YOU'RE TOO BEAUTIFUL!

Gwen: What the fuck are you talking about?

Pavitr: I'm talking about the baby that's growing inside of your belly right now.

Gwen: I'm not pregnant!

Pavitr: Well, not after that punch you're not. I've been taking muay thai classes.

Gwen: I was never pregnant, Pavitr!

Pavitr: Are... you sure?

Gwen: Yes I'm fucking sure!

Hobie: I'm sorry, but why the fuck is everybody yelling over here?

Pavitr: Oh, I found this positive pregnancy test and—

Hobie: *punches Gwen in the stomach*

Gwen: AW, MOTHERFU–

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Gwen: Today at 7 am, Pavitr poured a Monster energy drink in his coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing.

Hobie: I watched him brew his coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think he ascended into the astral realm.

Miles: The survivability of the human race never fails to amaze me

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Miles: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

Pavitr: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.

Hobie: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.

Gwen: Put spaghetti in it.

Miles: I am no longer taking suggestions.

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

Pavitr: What’s up with Gwen? she’s been laying on the floor for like….an hour now?

Hobie: She’s just a little overwhelmed.

Pavitr: Why?

Hobie: Miles smiled at her.

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Hobie, Gwen & Miles: *screaming*

Pavitr: *runs into the room* Miles whats wrong?!

Hobie: Wait, why are you asking Miles that when Gwen and I are also here?

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

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Hobie: What’s your biggest fear?

Gwen: That I’ll never be good enough for anyone.

Miles: Everyone hates me and talks about me behind my back.

Pavitr: Zombies.

Gwen: ...

Miles: ...

Pavitr: BUT they can open doors.

[forever-rogue]

hooking up in a truck with joel pre-outbreak…..dont judge me it came to me in a dream🫣

AN | And just how could I say no to this idea? Truck sex with Joel? Yes please 😏

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Smut [oral - f receiving, piv] - 18+ only

Word Count | 3.4k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d gone on five dates with Joel. 

Which means you’d had five opportunities to fall harder and harder for him. Which you definitely did, by the way. 

He made things easy.

He also made things hard. Hard in the sense that he wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a one-night stand. Which hadn’t even happened, coincidentally. After that first date when you’d planned to take him home and have him and never call him again, things had gone very off plan. 

Off plan which had you falling for him, and being okay when he walked you to your car and pressed a kiss to your cheek before calling it a night. You’d had a lot of fun with him and learned a lot about him and realized you wanted more than just a quite hook-up. Who would have thought? Not you. Certainly not when he came into your coffee shop all sweaty and dirty and sexy - well…maybe you had imagined it a little bit. What more was there to say? The man was hot. And so much more you soon realized. 

Just before he’d walked to his truck he promised he’d call you - you were positive he was lying. 

He called the next day. 

Which led you to this moment.

In the bar, a few beers down, and playing pool. The two of you had gone out with Tommy and his girlfriend, and you had to admit, you were having a great time. You also had to admit that the tension between you and Joel was palpable. The idea of jumping his bones had been ever present but you didn’t want to ruin a good thing…and you were pretty sure that Joel Miller was an amazing thing. 

You were willing to wait for him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Turned out, mercifully, that Joel was growing tired of waiting. And thank fuck for that.

He was holding your hand, fingers threaded together as the two of you walked back to his truck in the humid summer air. Instead of opening the door as he normally did, he managed to effortlessly pin you against the truck, caged in by his arms on either side of you. 

“Joel?” your voice sounded much smaller than intended and you felt pathetic by the way your entire body flushed with warmth under his golden gaze, “w-what’s wrong?”

“You,” he whispered, unflinching and unaffected. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as you scrambled to think about what he could possibly mean. He chuckled, a deep, warm sound you’d come to love, at your confusion, “you tryin’ to kill me, sweetheart?”

“I-I don’t…no?” you asked meekly, eyes wide and doe-like. He reached a hand out, rough and soft in a wonderful juxtaposition, and trailed his fingers along your jaw, “‘m sorry.”

“Yeah?” oh. He was thoroughly enjoying this, letting his fingers tough the strap of your dress, “you show up in that pretty little dress and expect me to behave? You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?”

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he caught on. He was a smart man after all.

“Mhmm,” your lips pulled into a pretty pink smile as you nodded, “was hoping you’d like it.”

“I do,” his large hands settled on your waist as he gave your hips a squeeze, “you’re beautiful.”

“Is that all?” you carded a hand through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp as he groaned, “if that’s the case-”

“Beautiful, sexy, lovely, smart, funny, kind, caring,” he listed off the first things that came to mind as you beamed at him, “and that’s just a few of things I like about you.”

“Funny,” you leaned, your lips almost brushing against his, “those are a few of things I like about you too. Want to know a secret, handsome?”

“Tell me,” oh. You could just lean in a little more and you’d be kissing him.

“I think you’ll like what’s underneath even more,” you whispered coquettishly, “it’s new. I picked it out with you in mind.”

“Fuck me,” he almost groaned, “you’re making it almost impossible to keep any self control.”

“I don’t want you to have any self control,” you were breathless, heart pitter-pattering like crazy by now, “I want you.”

“Baby,” were you about to make out like a pair of horny teenagers? It definitely felt like it was heading that way and you weren’t about to stop him, “baby, baby, baby.”

This man was going to be the death of you. 

You closed the last bit of remaining gap, and any semblance of restraint, between the two of you and kissed him. You’d kissed him before by now, even had a pretty good make out session on your front porch when he dropped you off at home after your last date. But this? This was something else, passionate, carnal, and needlessly desperate. 

He took your face in his hands, and kissed you deeply as you snaked your arms around his waist. He tasted like a mixture of shitty beer, bar peanuts, and something that was deliciously him - it was intoxicating. You wanted him to devour you. He licked along the seam of your mouth, asking for entrance which you eagerly granted him. 

Your body reacted instinctively and you were pushing yourself against him desperately for any sort of friction or relief. You could feel how hard he already was, his jean clad erection rubbing against you through your dress and panties; it all suddenly felt like too much and you wanted your clothes off now. 

A small gasp, a sound of pure pleasure, escaped your lips as trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You could feel his chuckle against skin as he sucked on the delicate of your neck, leaving behind a lavender haze of bruises that marked you as his, his, his. 

“Joel,” his name falling from your lips so sweetly was enough to bring him to his knees, “a-are you sure?”

You weren’t exactly positive about what you were asking, but you understood what you meant. 

“We can stop - do you want to stop?”

“No,” you shocked your head, a pretty giggle reaching, “fuck no, don’t stop. Please, touch me. I want this if you do.”

“I do,” you liked how cheeky and confident the handsome man in front of you could be, “I really do.”

“I knew you were going to be trouble from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he hung his head with a chuckle, resting it on your shoulder before mouthing along your collarbone. 

“I could say the same about you,” you took his face and cradled it in your hands, before kissing him deeply, “I knew I wanted you to wreck me from the moment I saw you too.”

He made a primal sound before sharply gripping your hips, and towering over your frame. His hands started to bunch up the soft fabric of your sundress, white and pale pink patterned, and pulled it up. His leg was between yours and you messily tried to rut against him. 

It all felt so dirty, but at the same time it was so hot. Kissing Joel Miller felt like nothing else and you never wanted to let him go. You looped your arms around his neck, and pulled him as close as physically possible.

“Get a fucking room!” you heard the voice from a distance and the two of you pulled apart in shock. There was a mortified expression on your face as Joel sighed and turned to find the sound of the interruption. 

The two of you quickly spotted the interrupter - Tommy. 

He burst into a fit of laughter before waving and getting into his own car. Joel held up his hand and flipped him off before looking back at you. The two of you broke into a fit of laughter before he shuffled you to the side and opened the back door of the truck. You quickly got the idea and jumped inside, grinning as he joined you and shut the door…and promptly locking it.

“Now were we?” the grin on your face was stunning as you sprawled across the seats, your back against the other window. You were glad it was evening and no one would be able to see in. 

“You are wearing far too much,” he tugged up the hem of your dress, and you nodded, letting him know it was okay to carry on. You loved that he sought consent every step of way…but right now you really just wanted it from him. He tugged up your dress and quickly pulled it off, tossing it into the front seat with a second thought. He studied you, his eyes wide and dark as looked you over; predator and prey, “you’re gorgeous.”

“Is it the lace?” you asked sweetly, touching over the soft white fabric of your bra. You saw his Adam’s apple bob up and nod as his cheeks flushed pink, “yeah, you like the lace. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He brushed his knuckles along your cheek before trailing his hand down your body, appreciating you all sprawled out for him, “can I taste you?”

“Fuck,” your eyes were dreamy as you stared back at him, “please. Please.”

He groaned in appreciation as he put his large hands on your breasts, squeezing them and causing you to arch into his touch at the feeling. He took the opportunity and reached behind you, unclasping your bra with ease. He studied it with a hum of approval before tossing to join your dress.

You were about to learn that Joel Miller had a very talented mouth. He kissed your lips before trailing his mouth all the way down, taking a nipple in his mouth. His free hand worked your other breast, tweaking your taut nipple and causing you to whimper slightly. 

"Jesus Christ," you played with the curls at the nape of his neck as you arched into his touch. Your voice was soft and breathy as you tried to hang onto some semblance of composure, "feels so good."

“You’re so good,” he kissed the space between your breasts, “you’re so beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful.”

“Touch me,” your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you looked at him in almost desperation, “please, Joel.”

“I am touching you, sweetheart,” he looked so smug as he sucked a few more bruises to the soft, tender skin of your breasts, “where do you want me?”

“You’re the worst,” you whined as he grinned at you, “my pussy…please.”

“I can do that,” he kissed his way down your torso, lips roaming along your torso and brushing all over, causing gooseflesh to rise up in his wake. He stopped when he was between your thighs, fingers ghosting along the soft fabric of your panties, “so pretty. You wore for me?”

“Got them for you,” you admitted sheepishly, “thought you’d like them.”

“I do,” he tugged on the waistband which caused you to wiggle your hips to help get them off. They went into the pile with the rest of your clothes. He admired you, but you pulled him back into attention as you nudged him with your thigh, “what do you need, baby?”

“Clothes,” you tugged at the collar of his button-up, “you’re wearing too many. Take them off, handsome.”

“So demanding,” he chuckled before he sat back up and tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it over before following suit with his jeans, leaving him only in his boxers. He cocked his head to the side before giving you a cheeky girl, “happy now?”

“You’re so sexy,” you drank him, already making a plan to map out all the freckles on his torso with your mouth, “so damn sexy.”

"Flatterer," there was a tinge of pink to his cheeks that caused you to bite your lip. He was so smooth and yet still so bashful. Joel paused for a moment, hands on your hips as his thumbs rubbed circles onto your skin, "you sure you still want this?"

"Only if you want to-"

"With pleasure," there was a wicked glint to his eyes as he spread your thighs to take a look at your center. With anyone else you might have felt nervous and self conscious, but with Joel it was different; he looked at you with nothing short of pure reverence, “so fuckin’ pretty. And so wet. All for me?”

“Mhmm,” you made a small sound as Joel kissed along the inside of your thighs, making it a point to leave bruises that matched the art he had created along your neck and chest, “been wet since you picked me up. Look so damn fine tonight - always.”

“And so you do, sweet thing,” before you could say anything else, he dipped his head in between your thighs, finally touching where you needed him to. A small moan escaped your lips as soon as felt his tongue licking a long stripe along your soaked cunt. This man, this wonderful, amazing man, loved eating pussy, more importantly he already loved eating your pussy, “taste better than I imagined.”

“You’ve thought about this?” your question was cut off by a moan as he sucked on your clit, swirling his tongue expertly.

“Since that first night when it took everything for me not to take you home,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your mound, his chocolatey eyes warm and deep. 

“Fuck me,” you moaned as teased at your entrance, gently a finger towards your hole. You gripped the back of the seat with one hand and the other hand was on the back of his head as you pressed him to your core, “fuck, fuck, fuck. Just like that.”

You could feel him humming as he chuckled, licking and sucking as inserted his finger and crooked it, effortlessly hitting your g-spot. You were squirming under him, feeling that familiar tingle start to blossom and bloom in your bones. He really was magic. 

“You like that?” he rasped against your skin as all you could do was nod, “yeah, you do.”

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, trying to rut your hips against him. He got the hint as he added another finger in. You closed your eyes, starting to feel your orgasm start to wash over you. 

“Gonna cum?” he asked, in a tone of mock concern in his voice, “I can feel you squeezing my fingers.”

“So good,” between his mouth and his fingers, you were seeing stars as you came, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“There you go, cum all over my fingers baby,” he worked you through your orgasm, not stopping until you were practically pushing his hand away, your entire body humming with energy. 

You slowly opened your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Joel looked at you intently, refusing to break eye contact as he licked his fingers clean; the sight alone almost killed you, “you’re um…you’re really good at that.”

He shook his head in amusement, before leaning down to kiss you sweetly, “I really liked doing it.”

“Can I return the favor?”

“Not tonight,” he shook his head, “really need to be inside of you.”

“Well hurry up then,” you spread your shaky legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you. You could feel how painfully hard he was, “and fuck me.”

He groaned, low and rough, in your ear before you reached for the waistband of his boxers and swiftly tugged them down his legs. Your eyes widened as you admired his cock, which was just as large as you thought. You swallowed and Joel noticed the gleam in your eyes, “it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

“You’re…so big,” you blurted out as he laughed softly, “you’re really the whole package Joel Miller.”

“Glad you think so,” he swiped a finger through your still wet cunt before slowly stroking his cock. He took his thick member and dragged the head through your soaked folds, “you feel so good. You doin’ okay?”

“Yup,” you reached down and replaced his hand with yours as you lined him up at your entrance, using your foot on his ass to push him further into you, “more than.”

“Cheeky,” he pushed in, going slowly but not stopping until he was fully buried inside of your warm, wet heat. He took your face in his hands as he kissed you, beginning to move. You moaned into his mouth as he fucked you, his hands holding tightly onto your hips. You were sure that there would be finger shaped bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t mind in the slightest.

“I’m not going to break,” you told him and you saw the dark flash in his eyes, “harder please.”

He didn’t hesitate as he pulled back out almost fully before pushing back in and almost knocking the air from your lungs. Joel hesitated for just a moment, searching your face to make sure you were doing okay; you nodded softly in response. 

He got the hint before he started to pound into you, causing the truck to rock slightly. You almost couldn’t help but laugh at the thought that if anyone was walking by they would know exactly what was happening. 

But your brain was currently turning to mush as Joel fucked the life out of you. He was merciless, but all you could think about was how close you were again. He really knew what he was doing. 

After a bit, you could feel that he was getting close too, his thrusts becoming sloppier as you felt him twitching deep within you.

He reached for your hand as he felt your velvety walls clenching around him and laced your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. Fuck. This man really had to be a romantic.

"'m close," he groaned as he kissed every part of your soft skin that he could reach, "where-"

"Inside," you insisted with wide doe eyes that would be the death of him, "I'm on the pill. Please - come inside of me."

He did not have to be told twice; there was definitely some baser, primal urge that had him wanting to fill you up as much as he could. 

"Joel," his name was a sugar sweet whisper from your lips that had him slamming his hips into you a few more times before he came. He buried his face into your neck and murmured all sorts of filthy praise into your ear before you felt him spilling into you. 

He reached between your bodies and circled your clit before you clenched around him, closing your eyes as that familiar and delicious warmth spread from your core and radiated throughout your body. You were almost positive that it had never felt this good before. 

"Fuck baby," he brushed your hair out of your face, both of you still breathing heavily. You looped your arms around his neck before gently raking your fingers along his back, "you make the prettiest face when you come."

Your face felt like it was on fire from his praise, but you still liked hearing it. You liked everything with him. 

He all but collapsed on you, warm and broad but still gentle and tender. The two of you exchanged shy smiles that quickly turned into soft laughter as you carded a hand through his messy hair. He preened into your affectionate touch before leaning down to kiss you, his lips lingering against yours. 

"That was…"

"Incredible," he finished for you, earning him a sheepish nod, "made me feel like a horny teenager."

"You're no different than one," there was a teasing lilt to your voice that caused him to snort in amusement, "Joel?"

"Hmm?" 

"I hope this doesn't ruin anything between us," you whispered, almost inaudible to his ears, "'cause I kind of…really like you."

"I kind of really like you too," you relaxed at his confession; the sex might have been incredibly mind-blowing but it wouldn't have been worth losing him for, "can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"When are you free next?" your heart swelled along with your smile.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he agreed softly, "if that sounds good to you?"

"Tomorrow is perfect."

[nyxiswrites1200]

Could you maybe do a guilty pleasure Sebastian (or Elliot) post? I’m not sure I have any specific ideas in mind. I really like slight possessiveness (not outright yandere) so maybe something like whoever you chose getting jealous of another bachelor/ette getting attention from the farmer and being a bit possessive of them? Lots of “you’re mine and I hope you know it” and giving hickies to mark territory type stuff. I also would like you to just have fun with it, you know? I’d like you to enjoy the writing process too, I know how much it sucks to not have ideas to write. Indulge yourself :)

"𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆, 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔"

AAAAA I didn't expect someone to respond so fast?? But I literally love this <33 Indulge I will, love. I hope you enjoy it <3

----

Sebastian x GN!Reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, OOC(??), Jealousy, Possessive bf, Established Relationship, Oral sex, PDA, Marking/Hickeys, Praise, Aftercare

Mentions: Reader enjoying coffee/hot chocolate, Sam (Stardew), drinking/alcohol, Use of nicknames (Precious, Sebby)

AO3 Link

----

Sebastian was always an amazing lover. Ever since you two started dating in Pelican Town, he was rough around the edges at first, but that seemed to be just your thing. 

The saloon was bustling with activity tonight. You and Sam were playing pool in the corner while Sebastian refilled his drink. Sam had missed the ball by a long shot, tripping onto the pool table. You couldn't help but laugh as you went over and helped him compose himself. 

Sam chuckled in response to his idiocy and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. The interaction was so simple and innocent, yet it had Sebastian overtaken with a burning sense of jealousy from across the bar. Maybe it wouldn't bother him so much if you weren't so open and nice with Sam, even if he is his best friend. 

When Sebastian returned, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist as he kissed you deeply. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue as he searched your mouth. You gasped softly into his mouth, and his grip on your waist tightened. When he finally pulled away for a breath, you spoke with a pant. “What was that for-” you asked curiously, but Sebastian just shrugs. 

The night went on, and Sebastian seemed more aloof than usual, which had you concerned. Along with the passing glares and the clingy antics. Eventually, everyone was starting to head home for the night. Despite Sebastian's feelings, he still took your hand as you two began to walk back home. 

“Sebby, what's wrong with you?” You ask, genuinely concerned. “Mm…you know you belong to me, right?” He rasps as he stops walking and drags you close to him. Chest to chest as he meets your gaze. 

Oh so that's what this was, he was jealous.

“Ah- of course, I'm all yours” you respond reassuringly, but it was also completely honest. 

Sebastian cracked a bit of a smile at that, and it seemed to do him in until you two made it back home. He wasn't much for public inquiries and while your words did mean something. He needed a different type of relief from this situation.

As soon as the door shut behind you both, Sebastian dropped onto the couch and pulled you into his lap. 

“Sebby-” you tried to inquire, but were cut off by a small gasp as he began kissing your neck, his hands firmly holding your hips. 

“Why you gotta be so fucking charming, huh?” He growled as he pulled you in closer. He began roughly sucking on your neck as he groaned in content. 

“What are you talking about?” You struggle to get out as you tangle your hands in his messy hair. But you knew how jealous he got. How possessive he was over you—he wanted the most of your attention. 

“Sam. Always being so fucking nice to everyone and letting him touch you…” he sighed against your neck, his lips moving to another spot. “Guess I'm gonna have to mark this pretty neck as mine; mark you as mine.” He rasped. 

Sebastian sucked on your neck, leaving kisses and hickeys in the wake of his lips. You didn't mind at all. If anything, his possessive attitude had you grinding your hips into his crotch. Seeing the obvious tent start to form in his pants. 

“Yes, please baby~ I'm all yours, you know that” you reassure as a moan leaves your lips. “Good” he responds softly. 

“On your knees, my precious” he asks rather gently. You slide off his lap and onto the floor, sitting on your knees in front of him. You lay your head on his thigh as you reach and free his aching cock from its restraints. 

“So good for me, all fucking mine” he says, placing a hand on the back of your head as he urges you to fill your mouth with him. You have no problems with it. 

You take all of him down your throat with a gag, his long, pretty length with a distinct vein down the underside. It had you gagging already. 

You began sucking on his cock, drool slipping down his shaft and onto his balls as you moaned onto him. 

Sebastian let out moans and grunts; eventually, he pushed your head down and held you there. “So good for me, choking on my cock. You belong to me, you're my precious little thing and I won't let anyone else have you.” he held the back of your head as he began fucking into your mouth, using you to get himself off.

You felt tears threaten to spill from the feeling of gagging on him, but a soothing rub to the back of your head reassured you from his end. 

“Don't cry, precious. Just showing this pretty mouth who it belongs to.” 

That sentence alone had your tight and aroused hole clenching around nothing in anticipation. A part of you wishes he'd just bent you over on the pool table in the saloon and fucked you senseless. Oh god, your thoughts were awful. 

It doesn't take long for Sebastian to become a moaning mess, his cock twitching as he gets close to release. 

He pulls out of your mouth, and you lick up the underside of his cock as you look up at him. “Fuck…finish me off, let me cum on your face. Show you who you belong to” he groans. 

You wrap your hand around his cock as you continue to edge him closer to his release. Your tongue slips over that prominent vein again, causing your boyfriend to moan. 

“I'm gonna cum, precious-” he groans before a deep moan leaves him as he cums onto your face. You swallow what you can manage. 

Sebastian panted as he looked down at you. Neck covering his purple-ish marks, your face splattered with his cum, and eyes teary from him fucking your throat. 

“Good” he praised “I love you, precious” he smiled as he cupped your cheek “I love you too” you smiled. 

Sebastian took extra care to bathe with you and make you coffee/hot chocolate in the morning. Kissing you softly as he praised you. You definitely don't mind being his. 

[kaaaaaaarf]

Hey you, I'm here for Wolfstar raising harry recommendations 🤗

Hello!! I'm also going to tag @imsiriuslyreading because I know Lana was also looking for some recs!

This is by no means a comprehensive list, but these are some of my very favs:

Wolfstar Raising Harry

Ten Reasons (To Go To Michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18 (I also love these two unrelated wolfstar raising harry microfics by the same author) — This is a Sirius raising Harry and meeting recently divorced Remus (who happens to be a writer) on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. A must read! that's the art of getting by by sarewolf — Remus becomes Harry's guardian and they move to a muggle village in the middle of nowhere. Eventually, Sirius is freed and comes to stay with them, but can they get back what they once had? Honestly, majorly obsessed with this one, but watch out for the angst! Stealing Harry by copperbadge — In an alternate universe where Sirius Black never went to Azkaban, Harry divides his life between the Dursleys' house and Mr. Black's bookshop -- until Sirius realises what the Dursleys are doing to him, and takes him away from their care. This series is fucking amazing and actually spans several of the books!! Mr Mouse by TracingPatterns (which continues in their wolfstar raising harry series) — A lovely little piece in which a young Harry learns about grief.

Like Real People Do by third_crow (part of the coffee shop au series) — Sirius raising Harry, when he starts falling for local barista Remus Lupin. This is also a beautiful story about what it's like to live with epilepsy and I am extremely obsessed with this series. The Things I Did by Lolo_row — canon compliant, Remus gets custody of Harry and works to get Sirius out of Azkaban. A bit of angst, but tasty! the dogfather au by hollimichele — Harry was raised by his adoptive muggle family, when one day a big black dog shows up. His parents just thinks he's a stray, and Padfoot becomes the family pet (to keep an eye on Harry, and protect him from Voldemort). Eventually this morphs into Remus also coming into the picture.

Wolfstar Raising Teddy

the mayors of simpleton by @fruityindividual — Divorced wolfstar are co-parenting a very mischievious Teddy who is not about to let his dads stay divorced!! Honestly this fic is so funny, so heartfelt, so fucking lovely. It also features the most beautiful portrayal of a blind character that I ever seen. A must read! Of Memories and Milk Thievery by @mayescapade — Divorced wolfstar raising Teddy again! Wolfstar have been co-parents for years and they wont stop terrorizing/pranking one another. An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account — Single dad Remus. Remus Lupin knows two things--working and caring for his son, Teddy. When his babysitter sets up crowdfunding so Teddy can go swim with the sea turtles at the local animal rescue, Remus doesn't realise how completely their life is going to change. Especially when he meets Sirius Black, the weekend merman in the aquatic show, and someone who might convince him of love at first sight. Honestly a lovely piece, and it also features the Potter clan.

Other (raising both teddy and harry, wolfstar girldads)

Let's Play Pretend by MsAlexWP — My current obsession!! I can't tell you how many times I've read this. Single parent Remus and single parent Sirius meet at a play date and end up pretend dating so that the old women in Sirius' building (who basically stalk him) will stop trying to set him up. Neither of them can date at the moment, so what could possibly go wrong?? Ultimate comfort fic. Of Quiet Hearts And Thundering Dreams by TracingPatterns — This is single parent Sirius and single parent Remus, both having moved to a small village and meeting at Harry & Teddy's school. A Cup of Sugar by MsAlexWP — Again, they are both single parents. Harry Potter is recovering from surgery and facing the worst summer ever until a guy with the same crutches as Harry moves in across the street with his son. So lovely!! Hide-and-Seek by onehundredflamingos — Wolfstar girldads raising their adoptive daughter Cassie, who is also a werewolf. This is the story of her first transformation. It's soooo sweet! @industrations has done a bunch of wolfstar and Cassie art, which you should absolutely go and cry over!

For supplementary material, feel free to check out my Wolfstar Raising Harry, Wolfstar Raising Teddy and Wolfstar Girldads tags!

[bigbadvoxbox]

I love the idea of vox x Fem reader aftercare, I picture hes the type to just smoke smth and not care but I'd like to see your take on it! also can we get some vox x Fem reader imagines (I wanna know what hes like in bed ykiwmm 🥰🥰🤭) if u cant then its fine! have an amazing day/nightt

i like the way u think, also imagines/headcanons are shorter and less detailed so i can bang those out rn lets fucking go!

- Aftercare: Vox would probably look up different aftercare methods online. He'd be pretty awkward about the whole thing but kinda just make sure you feel okay afterwards and tell you that you did good, and like make sure if anything's hurting that he helps soothe it, then would probably offer to take you out for coffee or something afterwards. He likes being perceived positively and likes attention so obvs would try to leave a good impression.

- In bed? Oof. Lemme tell you, LOOOTS of jealous/frustrated sex. The man is constantly just so irritated about everything (even more so once Alastor is back in town) and is very often in need of stress relief, so you become his favourite stress toy <3

- the constant one-upping of Alastor even shows in bed, like he's just frustrated rambling while he's fucking you to pieces "That pretentious fucker thinks he's so much better than me? But he doesn't have a pretty girl on his cock, does he? No, he fucking doesn't."

- Valentino (trash man) tries to hit on you (because he just goes after anything with a hole, fuck you valentino i hate you) and Vox is NOT having it. He usually keeps bedroom activities in private but he will make an exception this time. Won't go the full length but will definitely make a point. He plays it off with a smirk but inside he is RAGING. "I think she's pretty satisfied with me, already, Val." before he gets a little bit of a "don't fuck with me" look in his eyes "Don't be fucking greedy, Valentino." (cus Val already has lots of employees he can fuck so he should back tf up)

- He sometimes starts to overheat and/or glitch out when he gets overwhelmed (in a good way) during sex and his movements start to get erratic and wild

- He's pretty spontaneous when it comes to sex, especially when it's fuelled by stress and frustration cause he'll just find you, take you to the nearest bathroom or wherever you can have privacy and just have some very needed stress relief sex (both a blessing and a curse cus god the sex is good when he's pissed off, but it's so frequent your legs feel like hell)

- both degradation and praise are strong suits for him. like- you're a whore, but you're HIS pretty whore. you're suuuch a good fucking girl for him, and he makes sure you know that, but will also tease you for how much of a mess you become on his dick. big ego thing for him when you're very clearly enjoying it so he likes when you praise him too (not in a submissive "good boy" way but like when you tell him he's the best and stuff like that)

"If I hear that fossil's stupid fucking radio voice one more time I swear I'll-" Vox lets out a groan of frustration through gritted teeth as his hips pick up speed, his grip on your hips only ever tightening as he fucks you so hard your head starts to spin. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders, almost folding you in half on top of his desk, while he fucks into you like he'd die if he faltered for even a single second. He likes this position the most, likes seeing your face, likes seeing how you fucking fall apart for him, for his cock.

"Atta girl. You're gonna take everything I give you, yeah? That's a good girl. Thaaat's a good. Fucking. Slut."

[its-time-to-write]

I loveeee your taylor swift based jamie fics so i was wondering if u could maybe write one based on question..? You’re amazing at writing conflict between the reader and jamie but ofc ending with fluff and i feel like question is the oerfect outline for a fic like that. Thank you!

once again, I am slowly but surely finishing asks in my inbox! my hyperfixation has been awakened ever so slightly, as well as my need for new Jamie content. enjoy!

half-moon eyes

“What if I don’t go?” you suggest, sprawled out on Keeley’s couch.

“You have to,” Rebecca calls from the kitchen. “It’s non-negotiable.”

“I don’t even work for you,” you say, “so you literally cannot make me.”

Keeley grins devilishly next to you, feet propped up on the coffee table. “You don’t work for me either, and I can make you,” she says.

You groan. “C’mon, Keels, I’m not even on staff at Richmond. Why do I have to go to this benefit? It’s going to be a bunch of rich footballer twats.”

Rebecca places two glasses on the table and sits down. “You’re a rich twat. And you’re our friend. Besides, Keeley and I already bought your dress.”

“You what?” you yelp.

Keeley’s still grinning, except it’s all smug now. “Come on, babe, it’ll be fun. Free food, free booze. Hot men. Besides, it’s for a good cause. You love those.”

You drape an arm over your eyes and say, “Fine. I’ll go. But honestly, it’s just because Ted told me he’d help me get Roy on the dance floor.”

Rebecca and Keeley become a chorus of “oh, come on,” as they whack you with Keeley’s pink fluffy pillows.

—

Keeley and Rebecca are the absolute worst for picking out the dress they did, because it’s perfect.

It’s sleeveless with a halter neck, decorated with giant light blue sequins all the way to the floor, with a slit high enough to add some spice, but still low enough that you won’t feel the need to tug at it every five seconds.

And while you were correct about the rich footballers, you were a little bit incorrect about the “twat” part. Mostly.

You didn’t want to go to the benefit for the same reasons Keeley and Rebecca did want you to go.

Jamie fucking Tartt. 

He does no favors for your “good girl” reputation, and yet you’ve found yourself completely enamored with him. You swear to Keels and Bec that it’s just his muscles and his eyes and nothing more, but they got you to admit that you also liked his personality and that’s when you knew you were done.

The whole point of being in a three-person friend group is so that at any given time, two of you can meddle in the third one’s love life.

It’s supposed to always be you and Keeley versus Rebecca, or you and Rebecca versus Keeley.

Not Rebecca and Keeley versus you. 

They had successfully gotten you to spend time with Jamie during a team party, one where they snuck you in as Keeley’s emotional-support person then promptly ditched you to flirt with footballers/coaches of their own. 

You’d sat in a corner with a book stolen from a shelf, trying to make yourself invisible. Unfortunately for you, Jamie has sharp eyes and a tendency to gravitate toward introverts. 

But it doesn’t matter now. You’re in Rebecca’s car headed to that dumb benefit and gripping Keeley’s hand.

“Please don’t leave me this time,” you plead.

Keeley squeezes your hand twice. “Babe, it’s a bunch of people you know. And besides, how are you supposed to get in Jamie’s pants if you’re with me the whole night?”

Rebecca snorts out a laugh as you groan. 

“I’m not trying to get into Jamie’s pants,” you say. “I’m literally only here because you made me.”

“Sure,” Keeley says. “And I’m a virgin.”

The car dissolves into laughter along with your nerves, and you feel as ready as you ever will to face the night.

—

“Two please,” you say to the bartender. He turns around to prepare Keeley and Rebecca’s drinks and you sigh, forearms on the counter.

“Rough night?” asks a teasing voice. You turn to see Jamie slide into the space next to you looking fit in a cream suit. He tilts his head a little bit, causing one dangly earring to sparkle in the light.

“Surprised to see you without a book,” he continues. “But no worries, you could always ask Roy for one of his. He’s always got one on him and I think he’s stored one up his-”

“Here you go,” says the bartender.

“Thanks,” you reply, nodding once to Jamie in a way that signals he can leave, but instead of doing so he follows you.

“I can take those,” he says, reaching for the drinks and you automatically hand them to him.

“Thanks,” you say again.

He tilts his head to look at you. “You’re fucking quiet tonight.”

You laugh once, short and grating. “Yeah, well, this isn’t really my thing. I got suckered into it and manipulated into wearing this dress and normally I’m not this uncomfortable, but I don’t really know many people here.”

“You know me,” Jamie says softly, and then you’re at the table. 

Keeley looks up in surprise as Jamie hands her a drink but the surprise doesn’t last long before it’s replaced by devilish twinkle. 

“Oh, are you two going dancing?” she says.

“N-no,” you stutter, “he was just-”

“Dancing sounds so fun,” Rebecca interjects. “I might join you in a song or two.”

“But we’re not-” you try again.

Rebecca quirks an eyebrow at you. “Aren’t you?”

You turn to see Jamie with his hand out. “Come on,” he says. “It’ll be fun. Swear down.”

You reach for him before your mind can tell you not to, and let him pull you onto the dance floor.

You aren’t the only ones there, it’s actually pretty busy, but there’s only one set of hands on you.

You’re letting Jamie Tartt into your space in a way that no man before has been allowed. 

He’s crowding you a little bit, dancing close enough that you’re brushing up against each other and there isn’t really anywhere to go, but you’re fairly certain that the moment you indicated you needed space, he’d be gone. 

He’s so close that it’s overwhelming, with the music loud in your ears and the smell of his cologne.

Time seems to slow, music fades, and all that exists are you and Jamie. He reaches out to touch your face and you lean closer, almost at eye-level due to your heels.

He pauses for just a moment so you surge forward and kiss him, vaguely aware of Keeley and Rebecca wolf-whistling somewhere nearby. 

Sam looks over and starts clapping, and pretty soon all the Greyhounds within the vicinity are hollering and cheering. You blush and press your hands to your cheeks but Jamie just grins. It’s the cocky, “I got the girl,” grin.

So yeah, sue you if he ended up in your bed.

What were you going to do, act like you were immune to the way he looked at you? The way he talked to you like you were the most interesting person in the room? The way his lips peppered firm kisses up your neck and across your clavicle after you sneaked outside for some “fresh air?”

No, immunity was never an option. 

Half of you said it was just a one-night stand and the other half… well the other half told you to consider the facts. 

The facts were that you knew he was into you, like full-on romantically attracted because you’d seen his text thread with Keeley.

She hadn’t shown you exactly, just left her phone unlocked on her coffee table, angled toward you while she told you she was going to make tea and it was going to take a long time.

So maybe the way he threaded your hands together while he pressed his body to yours won’t be a one-off event. Maybe you’ll get another chance to hear your name from his lips like it’s the only word he knows.

Maybe.

Except you’re awake at 2am and he’s gone; no note, no text, no nothing. You know for a fact he’s not meeting Roy, so where exactly could he have gone?

You don’t know. You just know your bed is cold and empty and there’s a strange pit in your chest. Maybe Keeley was wrong, and he didn’t like you that much. Maybe he was just looking for one night of fun.

You’d be ok with that, if only you’d known ahead of time. If only you hadn’t gotten your hopes up.

—

It’s a good thing you don’t work at Nelson Road because it means you can avoid Rebecca, Keeley, Jamie, and Ted for some reason, because apparently Rebecca told him everything and he’s incredibly invested in getting Jamie a “good girlfriend.”

Instead, you go to work like normal and accept your coworkers’ invitation to go out.

Kevin got you all into some incredibly popular bar because his girlfriend’s a repo baby, and you can tell from the moment you walk in that it is not your vibe. You’re just grateful you asked what to wear ahead of time.

You go to the bar and say, “Two please,” and feel someone slide into the space next to you. You turn, half expecting it to be Jamie.

It’s not, but he is attractive, objectively speaking. You down your shots and smile as dazzling as possible.

If you’re going to be here, you might as well get the most out of your night. The man next to you smiles back so you take that as an invitation to move a little closer and start flirting.

He buys you a drink and you laugh at his stupid little jokes, reaching out just a little to touch his arm. 

Your coworkers are doing there own thing and you’re debating whether or not you actually want to fuck this guy when you feel someone watching you. 

You pause a moment to try to get the room into focus but before you can, someone is shouldering their way in between you and whatever this guy’s name is.

“Alright mate, time to go,” Jamie says, and the guy says, “Jesus, sorry, didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t,” you slur but he’s already gone.

Jamie turns to you and says, “I’m getting you home,”

Your skin is tingly and warm and there’s a pleasant haze in your mind, but not so pleasant that you forget the fact that you’re still a little mad.

“Kevin,” you mumble as Jamie slips an arm under your shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, told that rich prick that I was getting you home safe. Recognized him from your website.”

A less-drunk you would have latched onto the fact that Jamie had looked at your website long enough to recognize some of the people you worked with. As it is, all you can think about is sleep. Which reminds you

“Why’d you leave?” you ask as Jamie helps you into the passenger seat.

Jamie stills for a moment before continuing to buckle you in. He gets into the car and sits in silence for a moment.

“Dunno,” he finally says. “It- it was too real for a moment. We’re not the same at all. You’re fucking… good. I’m not, not really.”

“Bullshit,” you reply but you succumb to sleep before Jamie can ask you what you mean.

—

You’re in Jamie’s car again less than twenty-four hours later. Why you agreed to meet him, you’re not sure. But here you are in a deserted parking lot at 8pm, parked as far away from streetlights as possible. Your knees are pulled to your chest, and you’re grateful you opted to wear your favorite over-large hoodie. It gives you the illusion of security, like you can hide.

Jamie on the other hand is wearing a fucking brown Gucci track suit.

“Isaac gave it to me,” he says with a shrug, in response to your raised eyebrow.

That’s been the extent of your conversation for a solid minute, ever since you got out of your car and into his. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to talk first, but you’re not going to. He’s the one who invited you, he’s the one who can figure out what to say.

He does not disappoint.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have fucking left. Don’t really know what I were thinking.”

You snort out a laugh, but his worried face falls so abruptly that you immediately try to take it back. 

You say, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. It’s just that there’s no way you don’t know what you were thinking. You’re not stupid, you don’t just accidentally leave like that. And it’s not the leaving that’s the problem, it’s the fact that you didn’t tell me. Or talk to me after at all. So I’m just stuck in my own head trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

Jamie is shaking his head before you’re even halfway done. “You’re right, I do know what I was thinking. It’s like, you’re fucking brilliant, yeah? You do all this cool shit and make a difference and everyone fucking loves you. I went on a tv show to piss of me dad.”

He pauses, staring at the steering wheel. “If I woke up in the same bed as you, I’d start thinking we could be together. That I could have something- real, like. And that isn’t gonna fucking work.” He laughs, once, but it’s void of mirth.

You squint at him. “You could have at least tried.”

Jamie moves uncomfortably in his seat as he says, “That’s how I do shit, ain’t it? Fuck it up before it can fuck me up.”

You both relapse into silence, and you take stock of the way the nighttime glow sits on Jamie’s skin. 

His features are softened, much like they looked in your dim bedroom light except this time, his eyebrows are knotted together.

You reach out to smooth them with your thumb before you can stop yourself. 

Jamie sighs and leans into your touch and you find yourself cupping his face. 

“What if we tried?” you whisper. “I bet we could do it. I’m really stubborn.”

He smiles a little at that, all wistful. “I’d do anything for you,” he responds, “Just don’t worry ‘bout it when it’s time for you to leave, yeah?”

—

What is it that Roy says, that you deserve someone who makes you feel like you’ve been struck by lightning?

You feel more like it’s a meteor. 

It looks pretty as it shoots across the sky, almost like it’s a star, but then it lands on you and squishes you flat. There’s no electrifying current, just the inescapable, crushing weight of a giant rock that you thought you could wish on.

Two months. You made it two months with Jamie, and it felt like you were dancing on clouds right up to the moment you tripped.

It’s always something with him. Everything’s for PR, for an angle, for the game. Your relationship… it’s smothering.  

It’s not smothering in the way you like, because let’s be real; you would be attached at his hip if you could.

But he seems to think that he can buy his way into your heart, especially during the weeks he has extra training, or an away game, or anything that cuts into your time together. 

“It’s too much,” you say through tears one afternoon. “I don’t even know what to do with half of it. You’re spending so much money on me and I’m not ungrateful, but Jamie. I don’t want things. I don’t care that you’re busy, I want you and I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who thinks they can purchase my affection.

Jamie just looks at you, nods once, and walks away. No fight, no nothing. 

You’re struck by two conflicting memories at once.

The first being his outstretched hand at the benefit, ready to pull you out of your comfort zone. 

The second, his soft voice saying, “don’t worry ‘bout it when it’s time to leave.”

As you watch his retreating figure, you fight the urge to run after him. He’s the one with the self-sabotaging tendencies. You should have realized you were going to end up here sooner or later. 

If he doesn’t even think you’re worth fighting for, then what’s the point?

You text Keeley and Rebecca, then get to your bed as fast as you possibly can.

—

Two months is a lot longer than most people think it is. It’s over sixty days of waking up with someone. Of texting them. Of holding them, eating meals with them, of kissing them goodnight. 

It only takes two weeks for a habit to develop and now your bed feels far too large and empty. 

Keeley’s snoring in what should be Jamie’s spot, unceremoniously sprawled out in some awful satin zebra-print pajamas. It’s better than being alone, but you’d rather have Jamie snoring next to you in some awful satin leopard-print boxers.

—

“Do you believe in soulmates?” you ask Rebecca. You’re laying on her floor while she eats a biscuit.

She asks, “Platonic or romantic?” so you shoot her a questioning glance. “I’m not sure about romantic soulmates, but after seeing Ted and Beard, I abso-fucking-loutely believe in platonic soulmates,” she clarifies.

“Cool,” you say, “smashing, brill, fucking superb.”

“What makes you think Jamie was your soulmate?” she asks. That makes you sit up.

“I didn’t say shit about Jamie,” you say.

Rebecca rolls her eyes. “Darling, it was very heavily implied. And anyway, who else would you be talking about? The last time you had a boyfriend was back when this club was still complete shit. So. Why do you think Jamie was your soulmate?”

“I don’t,” you respond, “I just- I don’t know, we clicked. It was weird. You know we talked before the benefit? We were at this party and… he talked to me. I was hiding because Keeley fucking left me by myself so I stole a book and was reading in the corner, and he sat next to me and started asking me questions. And-” you stop yourself.

“And,” Rebecca prompts.

“And I wish he would have fought a little more. For as great as he said I was, he just walked away like it was nothing. It feels like shit.”

Rebecca stands up only to sit down on the floor next to you. She tells you, “Men are shit with feelings. They never know what they really want until they don’t have it.”

—

You don’t take precautions to sneak out of Rebecca’s office because everyone has left by the time you go, so you walk down the stairs arm in arm as you giggle about something stupid.

“Oh shit, I left my phone on my desk,” she says. “Wait here while I get it?”

You grin and lean against the wall, staring down a decal of Bumbercatch.

You can feel someone watching you and you assume it’s just Declan’s cutout until something moves in your peripheral vision. 

“Jesus Christ!” you exclaim. “Jamie?”

“I weren’t trying to scare you,” he says apologetically. “Didn’t know anyone was still here. I was doing a cool down on the treadmill and lost track of time.”

“…Cool,” you reply. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to say in situations like this.

Jamie passes his water bottle from one hand to the other as you shift your weight. Neither one of you are making an effort to say anything, or an effort to leave.

“For Christ’s sake,” comes Rebecca’s voice a few steps above you. “Can you two please just tell each other how you’re fucking feeling? My god Jamie, use your big boy words for fucking once.”

Jamie looks offended for a moment but apparently Rebecca’s words ring a little bit true because he switches from offended to wistful. Again.

“I can’t with that face,” you tell him. “You look like a kicked puppy, and it’s your fault at least eighty percent of the time.”

“I’m leaving,” Rebecca says. 

“Wait, but you drove me here,” you say to her back. 

She calls, “Cheers,” with no indication that she’s listening to you.

“I can take you home,” Jamie offers.

You tilt your head at him and say, “Yeah, and I can catch a taxi. Or walk. Or anything, really.”

“I’m driving you,” he says. “Just gotta grab my bag.”

“Oh now he fights,” you mutter.

Jamie stills for a moment before heading into the locker room. He’s back so fast you wonder if he was worried about you sneaking out without him.

You’re sitting in the passenger seat, reliving all the times you’ve been here before. You resist the urge to curl up.

It’s a quiet ride over to your house and you take advantage of the fact that Jamie is actively not looking at you. You allow yourself to examine his profile out of the corner of your eye. You miss touching his face, holding his hand. Does he feel the same? Most likely not.

He pulls into your driveway and as you reach for the handle he says, “Oi.”

You still.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really am.”

You explode. “For fucking what, Jamie? What the fuck do you think you’re sorry for? How many times are we going to do this? If one of us were going to have relationship insecurity, I would’ve assumed it’d be me. Hell, everyone thinks that I’m the insecure one. But it’s you! I don’t fucking get it, you ruin every good thing you have because you have stupid fucking thoughts and you don’t fight for what you fucking want, for fuck’s sake.”

“I want you,” he says.

“Coulda fooled me,” you shoot back.

“I do and I know I was being a twat. Went to fucking… therapy. I’m getting better, swear down.”

“Uh huh,” you say. “Bullshit.”

“That’s a fuck-ton of swear words for you,” he comments. “Been taking notes from Roy?” “Piss off,” you reply.

“That’s a yes.”

“Fine. Here’s a nice, clean sentence for you. What do you want?”

“I miss you,” he says without hesitation.

Right.

“And..?” you say.

“And I want you back.”

“Maybe,” you reply. “Possibly. I’ll put you on probation. Cook me dinner and then we’ll talk about it.”

Jamie turns off his car. “Does that mean I can come in?”

You sigh, but it’s with a smile on your face. “Against my better judgement yes, it does mean you can come in. But no funny business. At least not tonight.”

Jamie grins just a tiny bit and says, “Does cuddling count as funny business? I miss holding you?”

“We’ll see how good dinner is.” You open the car door and Jamie follows you close on your heels into your house. You think maybe this time, you’ll both get it right.