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flemingsfreckles · 19 days

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I Hate You (18+)

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader

Preview: Jessie is pissed off after Canada loses again to the US, she ends up finding stress relief in the opposing teams captain.

Warnings: where do I even start… hate-sex, oral sex (r receiving and giving), strap on sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), tit sucking, marking (hickeys and scratching) face sitting, finger sucking, edging, dirty talk, degradation, spitting, some restraining, minor choking, rough sex, cursing

WC: 4.8k words of horniness

A/N: 🫣 I was having a lot of feelings after the she believes match, don’t mind me

“God you’re so fucking annoying, you lost get over it!” You yelled at Jessie. You both had found yourself in the hallway after the She Believes Cup Final. Well, you had followed her down the hallway, wanting to tease her about your victory. When she saw you following her she had told you off, telling you to leave her be.

You had always disliked each other. You and the Canadian midfielder had always ended up playing for rival teams. She played for Canada, you played for the US, she played for UCLA, you played for UNC, she played for Chelsea, you played for Arsenal. The dislike of each other had turned into hatred as you both were named to be new captains of your National teams within days of each other.

You had the same attitude during and after the Gold Cup Semifinal, and naturally you were a dick to her after you had come away victorious, you made a comment or two when you went to shake hands with her.

So when the She Believes Final lead the two of you to be facing off again, you were at each other's throats. You both had fouled each other a couple times in the game, constantly going hard into her and she’d return the favor. You both had been shown yellows and been warned for the language you were using toward each other.

“I’m annoying? You’re annoying, I can’t stand you. With your attitude, walking around like you’re better than everyone.” She throws her hands up.

“No need to be mad Jessie, we’re just better than you. Specifically I’m better.” You snap your own captain's armband in her direction.

“Remind me again what legitimate international trophies you contributed to? A 4 team tournament is meaningless. Last time I checked one of us has a gold and bronze medal, you have what? A bronze that your teammates won for you? And your teammates have World Cup titles, but you weren’t good enough back then to be on those teams were you? You were only good enough to be on the first ever US team to lose round 16!” Jessie was sick of you, sick of how you acted, how you treated her and her other teammates, she had finally snapped.

“Fuck you!” You spit back at her, not appreciating her personal attack. “I was injured in 2019 you asshole.”

“You’re so cocky and yet have nothing to back it up, so fuck you too.”

“I bet you wish you could Fleming. But I’m probably better than you in that regard too!”

Her eyes squint at you before she’s lunging at you, for a second you think she’s about to take out her anger with a punch. Instead her hands find your hips, slamming you hard against the cool brick wall. For a moment the wind is knocked from your lungs and you have to take a deep breath. You really had never seen Jessie get this mad, she had some choice words here and there on the pitch but usually once final time hit she was level headed. She had never insulted you or yelled at you. Yet here she was, her strong arms pinning you hard against the wall.

Something about her change in demeanor was making your stomach buzz. The way she was staring at you was so intense. You shouldn’t be wanting her like this but you were. She leaned into you slightly, her eyes looking at your lips before she closed them. You close yours tilting your chin up to meet hers. That’s when you hear her let out a laugh.

“Oh look at that, you wanted me to kiss you, that’s so cute. Is it cute or embarrassing?” She cocks her head at you. Jessie’s tone is so degrading that you can tell your blushing, your cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. You couldn’t believe her behavior, you were usually the meaner of the two of you. She was acting like a completely different person.

“Don’t think this changes anything, I still can’t fucking stand you. But maybe I’ll like you a little bit better bent over.” She whispers in your ear before she releases you from her grasp and turns to leave.

“Room 338, if you want to prove how much better you truly are and put your money where that bratty mouth is.” She says, not even turning back to look at you as she opens the door to the Canada dressing room. The US and Canadian teams were staying in the same hotel, you had passed numerous of their players on the way to and from your room. Getting stuck riding the elevator with them a couple times as well.

With that offer you quickly ran to the locker room, the rest of your teammates already well into their celebrations. You just head to your locker, stripping off your uniform, ignoring your teammates trying to hand you beers, waving them off politely.

“What are you doing? Going home so early?” Sam Coffey slapped a hand across your back, giving you a shake. It was clear the team had already started on the drinking while you were busy yelling in the hallway with Jessie.

“Oh I’m just not feeling great, I’m going to head back to the hotel. Spend some time in bed.” Conveniently you had experienced a migraine a few days before, making your story more believable.

“Damn, alright, get some good rest, I’ll let everyone else know.” She pats your back and turns around singing along to whatever song was being blasted through the speaker.

Without saying another word to anyone, you slip out the locker room door and throw up your hood and start walking in the direction of the hotel, it wasn’t far and you didn’t feel like getting in an Uber.

You’re not sure if you should change or shower before going to Jessie’s room, but thinking back to how she had you against the wall was enough to send a tingle down your spine and had you pressing the elevator button for floor 3 instead of floor 4.

Jessie opens the door almost immediately after you knock and your mouth falls agape. She had answered in just her red biker shorts and black sports bra, the rest of her skin already on display.

“No roommate?” You say peering around her into the room.

“I told her I needed privacy for some captain stuff. Which technically isn’t a lie, we’re both captains.”

You just nod. You didn’t care what she said to her roommate as long as you weren’t going to get walked in on. The door closes behind you as you step into Jessie’s room. Quickly you find yourself against the wall for the second time, being pinned by the Canadian. The only difference is this time her whole body is pressed against yours and her lips are not just teasing you. Her mouth is rough against yours. She tastes like sweat and Gatorade. Skipping regular kissing, Jessie is already opening her mouth against yours, her tongue between your lips.

You return the favor, your tongue grazing hers. You quickly realize you have little to no control here, Jessie was easily taking the dominant position and while you weren’t too opposed, you felt the need to prove her otherwise. You shift your legs, moving one to slot between Jessie’s, placing some force against the apex of the legs. You feel her grind down slightly onto your thigh, giving herself a minor relief from the ache between her legs. As she ground down you took the opportunity to push Jessie back, she stumbled for a step before your hands found her waist, both steadying her but also grabbing her to move her to the bed.

“Lay down.” You say when she sits on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You hated being told what to do as well, but you hated Jessie choosing not to listen even more. Having enough of her mouth, you place your hands on her shoulders shoving her down into the mattress.

“If you’re not going to listen, I’ll do it for you.” You say as your hands hold firm on her shoulders, keeping her on the mattress. She tried to sit up for a second, pushing against your hands before she gives up, relaxing into the bed. Your face is inches above hers. She rolls her eyes at you, which just pisses you off more.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.” You spit back before leaning down to connect your lips again.

Your hand wanders down to m the elastic of her sports bra, pulling it out slightly before letting it snap back on her skin, leaving Jessie whimpering. You repeat the action a few more times, liking the way she would squirm when you held the band away from her, knowing the snap of the elastic against her skin was coming. You liked the pretty noises she made against your lips when you released the band and it smacked her already red and tender skin.

Having enough of your teasing, Jessie’s hands found their way to the bottom of her bra, she pulled it up releasing her breasts. You couldn’t help but pull back from the kiss to look at her chest. Moving your hands to cup both of her tits, your thumbs find her already pebbled nipples, rubbing over them quickly. Jessie arches into your touch. You move your mouth down to capture one nipple between your lips, sucking hard. You then move to leave harsh kisses on both of her tits.

When you have had enough of giving her pleasure, you move your mouth to her neck. You find where her neck meets her collarbone and you start to suck, hard. Her hand flies up to the back of your neck, pulling gently on the hair at the base of your head.

“Fuck, don’t leave a mark.”

Taking you lips off of her skin for a moment you let out a grunt, “What? Too scared your teammates will find out you let me take control of you?”

“Fine leave marks I don’t care, but I get to leave them on you too.” She huffs. You weren’t opposed to the idea, you secretly loved being marked up, the constant reminder of your escapades when you would change or shower. You’d just have to face your teammates knowing you let the Canadian fuck you. They’d also know you lied about feeling sick to go fuck her.

Your lips meet Jessie’s in an aggressive kiss, you pinch her bottom lip between your teeth and pull hard on it while you grab the back of her thighs to move her to the middle of the bed. The older girl lets out a mix between a moan and a squeal as you move her. You place her down and your hands trail up to the top of her biker shorts.

“I’m going to take those off, okay?” Sure you couldn’t stand the girl but you were still going to ask before you stripped her last layer of clothing off. You were an ass but you had your limits.

“Do it.” Jessie lifts her hips to let you slide the tight material down, tossing them across the room.

You grabbed at her inner thighs, giving them a tight squeeze, your nails digging into her skin, leaving small marks. You push her legs open and back, putting her pussy on display to you. You could see she was already wet. The sight of her had you licking your lips.

“For a captain you’re really letting me push you around right now.” You say not looking up from where your eyes were fixated between her legs.

“Shut the fuck up.” She glares at you.

“Make me!” You tease back expecting her to kiss you to shut you up.

Jessie took your challenge literally and in a different direction, she closed her legs, your hands falling from her legs and she pushed you so now you were flat on your back with her holding you to the bed. “I can do that.”

She starts to straddle you, her thighs resting on either side of your stomach. For a second her core brushes against your navel and a small string of arousal connects the two of you. She doesn’t stay on your waist long, she keeps moving upward. That’s when you realize exactly what she's doing. She was moving to sit on your face. She was going to shut you up by sitting on your face.

She pauses when her knees settle on either side of your head. You can smell her, you try to lift your head, your tongue out, reaching to taste her. Her hand comes down on your forehead pushing you gently back to the bed. “No.” She shakes her head at you. Looking up at her had your head spinning, you may hate the girl but fuck she was hot, the way she was looking down at you and her perfect body was hovering above you.

Giving in to what you wanted, but on her terms Jessie lowered herself over your mouth and your senses are immediately filled with the taste, smell, and feeling of her pussy. Your tongue runs all over her, from her entrance to her clit and back, getting familiar with her. Jessie is letting out soft moans, music to your ears. Her hips grind down harder into you when your tongue passes over her clit so you give in to what she wants and wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, sucking on it while using your tongue to flick at it.

It doesn’t take long until Jessie starts moving her hips on her own, riding your face instead of just sitting on it. Moving your hands up to grip her ass, you help guide her movements. Her hand has a tight grip in your hair and you’re allowing her to turn and tilt your head where she needs you. Your tongue and lips still focus on her clit as her movements become more erratic.

“I’m going to cum.” Jessie’s voice comes out raspy. “Fuck.” You open your eyes to see her throwing her head back, her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth as she lets out a few moans. Her hips jolt a few times, roughly against your face before they stop and she lifts herself away from your tongue. You let out a small whine, wanting to taste her more. Jessie’s eyes move to meet yours, and a smirk creeps across her lips.

“I guess that mouth is good for more than just smartass comments.” She uses her thumb to collect the wetness from your chin before she pushes her finger against your lips. “Suck.” You happily listen, opening your mouth to suck Jessie’s arousal off her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact with her as your tongue swirled over her finger. A short moan falls from Jessie’s lips as her mouth falls open as she watches you suck her finger. She pulls her finger from your lips resulting in a pop before she climbs off of you and moves over to the corner where what you assumed was her suitcase lay.

You can’t quite see what she’s doing but when she turns back she has a strap on in her hand.

“I didn’t take you to be a purple kind of girl.” You point at the purple dildo attached to the harness.

“What's that supposed to mean?” She’s still standing across the room holding the strap now looking at it in her hand.

“I dunno, figured you’d go with blue or maybe just clear.” You shrug, you didn’t even mean anything by the words, the color had just genuinely surprised you. “You just always bring that in your suitcase?” Jessie did not seem like the type to just be bringing sex toys in her suitcase, she was surprising you in all kinds of ways today.

“Not usually, unless I know I’m going to use it. But I had a weird feeling it might come in handy this week. Do you want me to use it?”

“I mean sure, if you need the assistance of a toy to get me off then that’s fine. Some people aren’t good in bed without some assistance.” Pushing her buttons was fun, you knew she could probably get you off with her tongue or her fingers but you desperately wanted her to prove it. The strap was quickly tossed onto the bed next to you, Jessie abandoning it to grab your ankles pulling you to the edge of the bed.

Her hands came to the waist of your sweats, gripping both your pants and underwear between her fingers. “Can I?” You nod, lifting your hips to let her swiftly pull down your pants leaving you bare from the waist down. You take a second to pull your shirt and bra off, saving Jessie from having to do so. She’s quick to place her hands on your chest, giving a firm squeeze to both of your breasts. Her mouth follows and she trails hot, wet kisses up from between your tits to your neck where she returns the favor and sucks hard. She then works her way back down your neck, leaving more marks across your collarbone and the swell of your breasts.

Her actions already had you letting out shakey moans, your hips bucking slightly, begging for contact, for any kind of release. She laughs against your skin as your hips begin moving more frequently.

Jessie moves off of you, for a second completely removing her touch from your body. Kneeling at the end of the bed, she pulls your knees to sit over her shoulders before her hands grab your hips and she plunges her face into where you were already a dripping mess. Vibrations run across your pussy as Jessie moans into you at the taste of your arousal.

She’s quick to focus on your clit, the spot that has you already grabbing at her hair, pulling her close and profanities falling from your lips. You didn’t want to cum already, not only would that be embarrassing having to admit how good she was in bed but you also didn’t want the pleasure to end.

You end up betraying yourself, your brain telling you to wait, move away so you didn’t cum right away, but your body wanted the pleasure, it wanted release. You instead helped Jessie, using the hand in her hair to guide her directly where you needed her. It was only a few minutes later that your legs were shaking on her shoulders. Grinding against her mouth, your head fell back, a groan leaving your body as your legs wrapped around her head tightly. You continued thrusting yourself against her mouth, riding out the extent of your orgasm before your legs loosened and Jessie was able to remove her mouth from you.

Just as you start to catch your breath from your first orgasm, Jessie’s fingers are pushing into you. Your pussy clenches tightly around them, still sensitive from the previous orgasm. Her thrusts start slow but firm getting you used to the feeling of her thick fingers deep inside of you.

“Fuck Jessie.”

“That’s right, let everyone know who’s taking care of you.” Her eyes are dark as she looks up at you from between your legs. She looks fucked, her baby hairs sticking out in every direction from where your hands had been, her lips are swollen and the entire lower half of her face is still slick with your arousal. Not to mention the deep red markings your mouth has made are starting to develop darker across on her neck.

Knowing you made her look like that sends another wave of arousal through your body. Her teammates were going to know that she got laid when she goes to training in two days. So would your teammates. But maybe they wouldn’t know you fucked each other, for some reason you liked that, it was your dirty little secret.

Jessie picks up the pace with her fingers, curling them everytime she buries them fully. Still on the high from your first orgasm, you can feel the second one building quickly, feeling yourself start to tighten on her fingers.

“Fuck I’m going to cum Jessie.” With your warning Jessie brings her tongue back to your clit, with one swipe you’re clenching around her fingers, your thighs closing themselves around her head. Your hips thrust, fucking yourself on her fingers to ride out your second orgasm.

Jessie takes her tongue away and her fingers slide out of you. You look down at her where she remaining kneeling at the edge of the bed.

“My tongue and fingers do a damn good job on their own, I just think toys can be fun too.”

“Put it on then.” You grab the strap that was next to you on the bed, tossing it between your legs at Jessie. She stands up, situating the harness around her waist and tightening the straps. You stay where you are, legs dangling over the side of the bed while you wait for Jessie.

She comes over to you, grabbing your thighs, her hands finding the bend of your knee, holding your legs open and back. You watch her face as she spits, a trail of saliva leaving her mouth and landing on the tip of the strap. In awe of her action you lay there, mouth open, eyes wide. You had never been someone that was explicitly into spitting during sex, but seeing her spit on the dildo had you reconsidering.

You’d let her spit in your mouth like that, you think to yourself.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by the feeling of the silicone rubbing over your pussy. Jessie gives a few teasing thrusts, just grazing your clit with the head, spreading your wetness down the length of her dick.

The tip finds your entrance and Jessie pushes into you, you both let out moans as she easily bottoms out inside of you. She then pulls back, just letting the tip stay inside of you and pushes herself back in fully in a fluid motion. Jessie quickly picks up a rhythm, not too fast but not slow, each thrust is forceful, you feel your tits bouncing and bring your hands up to play with your nipples.

“You’re fucking hot.” Jessie says as her eyes watch your fingers pinch and caress your chest.

“You look so good fucking me.” You responded to her, you hated her but in the moment that hatred was all turned into lust.

Jessie keeps her pace, after a minute you’re already a mess, strings of moans uncontrollably falling from your lips. When Jessie moves to lay down on top of you, you nearly lose it. Your hands come to her back ranking your nails against her skin as she’s able to fuck even deeper into you. You knew you were leaving red streaks down her back that everyone would see when she changed at training.

“I’m going to,” starting to warn her that your third orgasm was building. Before you can finish the sentence she pulls out.

“What the fuck?” You yell. Eyes snapping open to give Jessie a glare. Jessie’s hand is quick to be on your chin, gripping it hard between her thumb and index finger, her other three fingers are on your throat forcing you to look at her. The grip on your face is so hard it’s nearly painful, but you liked it. The feeling of her three fingers on your neck has your heart racing and you’re sure she can feel it in your pulse.

“What? You thought you’d be able to do this without a little teasing? I still hate you, I’m not just going to give you what you want.” She releases your jaw from her grasp and moves your hands to your hips.

“I hate you.” You had said it numerous times tonight, and you meant it or at least you thought you did.

“Flip over.” She demands, wanting to just be able to get the release you were so close to you to listen to her, flipping yourself over so your feet were now on the ground as you bent over the bed, your sensitive nipples making contact with the rough hotel bed sheets.

You feel Jessie’s hands grip your ass, spreading you slightly, and then you hear her spit, followed by the feeling of her saliva running down your pussy.

“Come on Jessie.” Pushing your ass back toward her you hope it’ll encourage her to move a bit quicker.

“What would your teammates say if they knew I had their captain bent over for me, pathetically begging for my cock?”

“Jessie.” Your hands grip at the bedsheet, you need her to finish what she started.

“What?” Her voice sounds annoyed.

“I hate you.” You’re not sure if that’s going to piss her off more or encourage her to fuck you again. But you get the answer quickly.

“I hate you,” she responds as she completely fills you from behind. She starts again, punctuating each word she says with a rough thrust, “you're. a. cocky. little. brat. egotistical. can’t. fucking. stand. you. you. always. have. an. attitude. fucking. pain. in. the. ass.”

She pauses. Her hips stalled with the tip of her strap just barely inside of you.

“Nothing to say back?�� You can practically hear the smile on her face. “It’s about time you shut that smartass mouth of yours, is that all you needed this whole time? For me to fuck your shitty ego out of you?” She grabs your hair pulling you off the bed so your back is flush to her front.

“Look at me.” She demands but also doesn’t give you much of a choice as she’s gripping your head in her hands and can easily turn your face. “Is that what you needed? My fingers, and mouth, and cock? You just needed someone to fuck you properly?” You’re trying to focus on her words but all your brain can think about is how the tip of the strap is pressed against your entrance.

“Yes Jessie.” Your neck is starting to hurt from the angle she was holding you in, thankfully answering her question got you shoved back into the mattress bent over and Jessie’s cock thrusting back into you. Her hands firm on your ass. Using her arms to pull you to meet her thrusts.

“Cum for me, make sure everyone knows who fixed that attitude.” She gives a hard squeeze on your ass.

“Oh my god Jessie, fuck.”

“That’s it.”

“Jessie, Jessie, please.” You can’t do anything besides chant her name. She was consuming every aspect of you, she was all you could think of being overwhelmed with pleasure. You knew her teammates would be able to hear, thankful your teammates were likely still out celebrating, even though your rooms were on a different floor, you were pretty sure the whole hotel could hear you screaming her name as you came on her strap. There goes what you thought would be your dirty little secret.

With one last drawn out moan of her name, you go limp on the bed, Jessie still thrusting into you, moving your whole body. Your knees give out and Jessie’s hands move to your waist to hold you from slipping off the bed. She slows her thrusts, giving you long, drawn out movements to work through your third orgasm. She pulls out when your hand comes up behind your back to push her away.

You hear the sound of the strap hitting the ground and feel Jessie climb on the bed next to you. She lays on her stomach, mimicking your position, turning her face to look at yours. She’s got red cheeks, hair still crazy, and a small amount of sweat on her forehead. You catch a glimpse of the red streaks you left down her back, they would definitely still be there tomorrow. She’s also got a huge grin on her face.

“Hmm, the one orgasm you gave me versus the three I just gave you… seems like I’m actually the ones who’s better.” It’s now her cocky attitude showing through.

“I never said we were done Fleming, I have some hatred of you left.” You push yourself up with what strength you have left. Playing 90 minutes and then three orgasms takes a lot of energy. You move to straddle Jessie. You had to at least give her two more, tie it up, but you’d be happy to take the lead. Needless to say it was the start of a very long evening for the two of you.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso smut #canwnt

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 11 months

Note

For your celebration about she fell first but he fell harder, with clark kent or logan?

It Got Worse

Clark Kent x Wayne!reader

Bruce Wayne thought that the worst thing to ever happen to him was his darling little sister developing a crush on his best friend, but oh boy, it gets worse.

Warnings: reader is Bruce’s adopted sister, Clark is a SIMP, fluff, pregnancy

WC: 487

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

“Kal, stop staring at her. You look like a fucking creep.” Clark snapped back to reality, shaking himself from his daydreams. Bruce glared at him with a stern expression, his eyes dark with a raging anger reserved only for those who royally pissed him off.

Clark blushed and looked away, although he was conscious not to look even vaguely in your direction anymore. “It’s not being creepy, it’s being in love.” He retorted with a pout. Bruce scoffed.

“Actually the technical term is stalking.”

“She’s my fiancée.”

“She’s my sister.” Clark harrumphed and slumped down in the conference room chair. Obviously Bruce was going to get the kryptonite from his “super secret safe” if Clark even dared think about looking your way again, so the Kryptonian focused his ears and began to listen to your heartbeat instead. “Don’t.” Batman growled.

“I wasn’t even doing anything!” He whined, throwing his arms up into the air like a petulant toddler.

“You two are already getting a whole day where the two of you can fawn all over each other and I am being forced to be there. So please, spare me the love-sick glances and blatantly inappropriate thoughts you are having about my little sister, until then.” Considering that the end of the conversation, Bruce turned back to his work, assuming that Clark would follow his lead.

But instead there was a rush of air, causing the documents that had been carefully laid out on the table to scatter everywhere. With a heaving sigh, the older man looked up to see his future brother-in-law cradling you in his arms, lathering your face with sloppy kisses as you screamed with laughter.

Yet Bruce couldn’t help but smile. He remembered only two years ago when you would frequently collapse onto his couch, spouting about how in love with Clark you were and no matter what you did, he never reciprocated. In desperation for saving not only your happiness, but also his own sanity, Bruce had outright told Superman to ask you out. And he had been living to regret it ever since.

Yes, you were happy and so was his best friend but the honeymoon phase had never ended. That led to an overabundance of pda, way way too many pet names, and a legitimate concern that Clark would drop dead the moment he saw you in your wedding gown.

You were trying to push your fiancé away, but he wouldn’t budge, instead one large hand slipped under your large shirt to cup your soft stomach. You placed your own hand on top of his as your lips met in an achingly soft kiss. Clark’s blue eyes sparkled with tears as you cooed something to him that your brother could not hear.

By the time the hero fell to his knees to kiss where his hand had just occupied, the realisation slapped Bruce in the face. This has just gotten worse.

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rainylana · 1 year

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“I’m not ever gonna stop.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: reader and eddie are new parents. reader struggles to keep everything together for eddie.

warnings: dad eddie and mom reader, postpartum depression, new baby and all the things that go with it, language, stressed reader very emotional, breastfeeding.

“Oh, God.” You moaned in exhaustion, back against the closed door to your baby’s nursery after finally getting her to sleep after hours of crying. You opened your eyes, the trailer an absolute wreck. You knew you should listen to your doctor. When the baby sleeps, you sleep, but you had so much to do. Laundry, dishes, dinner. It had been days since you showered, absolutely covered in spit up, formula and piss.

Baby Johanna was only five weeks old, and as amazing and life changing those weeks had been, they’d also been the hardest and most challenged. You were physically and emotionally drained. Completely exhausted. She was the best thing to ever happen to you, without a doubt, but damn, did you miss sleeping a full night. Eddie of course, helped when he could, but he worked full time. Everyday 9 to 5.

Eddie knew you were having a hard time. He felt terrible he couldn’t do more, spend more time at home, but he carried a big responsibility by supporting the finances. You’d called Joyce almost everyday with questions. Why she wouldn’t stop crying? Why she never seemed happy? She fussed all the live long day. You felt so behind on everything. Your house, your life, your husband. You missed showering and wearing deodorant.

Your eyes fixated on your messy home, brain so exhausted and cluttered you didn’t know where to start. Wiping your sweaty face, you pushed yourself off the door to the living room, picking up trash off the floor and cold coffee cups. You cringed when you caught your reflection in the mirror hung above the table. Your hair was falling out of your bun atop of your head. You were pale as snow and had craters under your eyes, lips chapped and cry. Your t shirt was stained and torn at the arm, your black shorts on underneath. You looked horrendous, but house work was more important than a shower.

You were extremely depressed. Well, you didn’t know if you were more exhausted or depressed. Either way, you didn’t feel good. You felt yourself disassociating from your own body, having trouble concentrating and staying focused with your own mind. Half the time, you didn’t feel real. It made you feel crazy, but you couldn’t help it. You’d read about postpartum, Eddie had too, but you legitimately were struggling. Your daughter made it worth it, however. Father hood looked good on Eddie, you hoped he thought the same for you.

Your baby looked just like him. She had dark curls already at her young age, a head full of hair. A little button nose, which Eddie says she got from you. Big brown eyes, from dad. A birthmark on her shoulder, from you. She was the most perfect thing you’d ever seen. It was hard to believe that you made her. It made you incredibly proud.

It had been just ten minutes. You’d gotten a small portion of the living room picked up when she starting screaming again. You had angrily thrown down the trash in your hands to the floor, groaning into your hands as you followed the cry. You’d held her in the rocking chair, trying your best to sooth her. You’d tried feeding her, which hurt badly. You’d never imagine your breasts would be so ginormous.

Another thirty minutes of her crying sent you into a wave of snotty tears until she finally fell asleep in your arms. You’d carefully put her in her crib, tiptoeing and praying to god above she wouldn’t wake up. You full heartedly believed she hated you, or at least was out to get you. She was never happy with you or what she did. Oh, but daddy? She loved him. He never did anything wrong in her eyes.

For the next two hours you tried to settle your baby while you attempted to clean. You never got much done, then she would start to cry again. She wouldn’t touch your boob, her diaper was clean. All she did was cry. You’d called Joyce and she assured you that nothing you were doing was wrong. Babies cried, they went through fits and phases. You just had to let her cry it out.

It was 5:30 when Eddie walked through the door, waving a bundle of red roses. “How’s my best girl!” He cheered, throwing his jacket on the couch.

“Shh, shh!” You panicked, running to cover his mouth. “I just got her back to sleep!”

He cringed under your hand. “Sorry.” He chuckled quietly. “Got ya flowers.”

You smiled softly, taking them in your hands and admiring them. “Thank you. They’re pretty. How was work?” You turned to lay them on the table, stepping over the baby mobile.

“Good. Boss says I’ve got a raise in the future if I pick up more hours.” He opened the fridge for a beer, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“More hours?” You frowned, tucking a hair behind your ear. “Don’t you think you work too much as is?” You tried speaking quietly, collecting all the dirty dishes to put in the sink.

“Yeah, I know, baby, but with little Joey now we could really use the money.” You would have smiled at the endearment he used for your daughter, but the idea of him picking up for hours made your throat grow thick. Eddie was your rock. You yearned for five o’clock at the start of each day.

“Yeah, okay.” You sighed, pushing a curl with your breath. You got out the broom from the closet to sweep the floor.

Eddie took a look around his home, watching how angsty and exhausted you were. He didn’t want to seem like a dick, but he was hungry. “When’s dinner, babe?”

“Oh, fuck.” You stopped your sweeping, head looking up to the ceiling as you closed your eyes. “Damn it, Eddie, I’m sorry,” You threw down the broom, not caring whether or not it made noise. “I’ve been so busy trying to get that…I’d say our daughter but I’m halfway convinced I have birth to some- some- spawn of satan, to sleep!” You stressed, running your hands through your hair.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie chuckled, placing down his beer as he stepped toward you. “Come here,” He pulled you into his arms and you melted into them. “Sorry you had a bad day, baby. Wanna order pizza?”

You mumbled a quiet yeah into his shirt, stifling a yawn. You wanted him to hold you all night, but you had so much to do. You pushed yourself away, grabbing the phone off the counter to hand it to him. “You order pizza and I’ll finish sweeping.”

“Honey,” Eddie peered down at you. “No sweeping. Take a break and sit down with me, yeah?”

You shook your head, sniffling. “No- no, I’ve got too much to do before she wakes up again, I-”

“You can do that tomorrow.” He picked the broom off the floor and put it in the closet. “I’ll order pizza and you go put on your cute little pj’s, alright? Have dinner with me.” He flashed you a million dollar smile.

You frowned, however, looking over the dirty home before you have a singular nod.

•

Today had been a good day. You’d been able to get a half decent night’s sleep, and Johanna wasn’t near as fussy as she had been yesterday. You’d gotten some house work done, cleaned the living room and did the dishes. All you had left was to catch up on laundry and clean your bedroom. You’d taken a shower in the morning before Eddie had left for work, even had breakfast with him.

Right now, you were nursing your baby girl in your arms, neck propped up on a pillow as you sat on the couch, eyes fixated on the game show on the tv. “Ow.” You winced lightly, chuckling as you looked down. “You don’t go very easy on mommy, you know?” Your nipples were extremely tender these days, swollen like a bunch of watermelons. Eddie adored it. It made you waddle just like when you were pregnant.

She’d fallen asleep after nursing for another twenty minutes, allowing you to sit there peacefully after you’d pulled your tank top back over you. Your eyes dropped tiredly, your head just lightly pounding from exhaustion. You looked down at your daughter, her face snuggled against your boob. You took your finger and gently caressed her cheek. She looked so much like Eddie. Her purple onesie was snug, her little belly poking out and her dark curls were messy at the top from all the wiggling around she did. When she was quiet like this, you could think. It really was worth it, all the work and lack of sleep. She made it worth it. Her and Eddie.

Carefully, you laid down on the couch and adjusted her on your chest. She moved just a little bit, her tiny fist gathering your dirty tank top in her hand. You smiled, pulling a blanket over top of you. You weren’t going to sleep. You were extremely paranoid about co-sleeping. Eddie assured you that you were being over dramatic, but you’d read horror stories about it.

You have her a kiss atop of her head and enjoyed the rest of your show.

•

“There’s my girl.” Eddie said in a childlike voice, front door still open from his arrival. You smiled widely as little Jo squealed in her baby mobile on the floor. Eddie threw his stuff down and went to her, lifting her out of her seat and kissing her cheek. “Baby, baby, baby, how’s my baby?” He repeated, lifting her up into the air to blow raspberries on her bellow. “How’s my little Joey Jo?” He tucked her into his side, face red from how hard he smiled, finally turning to you.

“How’s my other girl?” You laughed as he came over to give you a peck on the lips.

“I don’t remember the last time I was thrown into the air like that.”

“Oh, yeah?” He raised a brow, pulling on Jo’s onesie. “You’re in for a fun night, then, little lady.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning into his chest to cuddle him and your baby. “How was work?”

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head. “Next week I’m up to another hour. Should be getting home about six o’clock then.”

You sighed, locking eyes with Jo. She didn’t like it either.

“I know, sweetheart, but you know we need the money.” He said remorseful, leaning back to see your face a bit. “It’s just one more hour. Not too bad, right?”

You nodded, pushing yourself away to turn to the sink, turning on the hot water. “Dinner’s on the table. Joyce brought over a lasagna.” You blinked back tears as you waited for the sink to fill up so you could clean the numerous baby bottles.

Eddie looked from the table to you. “You gonna eat with me?”

“Got too much to do.”

He sighed, knowing you were upset about the news, but what else was he supposed to do? Money was essential, and he would do anything to support the both of you.

He gave Jo another kiss before putting her back into the mobile, leaning up against the counter to get a look at your face. He frowned at the sight of your tears. “Baby,”

You sniffled, your hands red from the scolding water. “I’m fine.” You said dismissively. “Just eat your dinner.”

“Hey,” He sat up straight. “Don’t be like that. Talk to me.” He cupped your shoulder.

“I don’t feel like talking.” You brushed his hand off. “I’ve got too much fucking work to do, but you wouldn’t know since you’re not ever fucking here, because you’re always fucking working.” You snapped, throwing a baby bottle at the floor, bubbles splattering across the counter.

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock at your outburst, mouth falling ajar. His pride wanted him to snap right back, but he knew you were right. You got the brunt of parenthood. He wasn’t going through what you were. He heard about the bad days. He didn’t experience them.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice broke, placing your soapy hands on the counter. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean that. I’m just tired, I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” He swallowed, trying to bring you close.

“Just-” You brushed him away again. “Just eat your dinner, please.” You looked to him with tearful, pleading eyes. “I got too much to do.”

He looked at you in disbelief, while you looked at Joanna. He gave a sad nod before leaving you be.

•

You were sobbing on the floor, baby girl in your arms, propped up by your knees. She’d been crying all day, had barely ever stopped. The house was now again an absolute wreck and you’d gotten nothing done. You had spit up on your neck, dried and irritated. Your breasts were throbbing, sore and tender. She’d about sucked them dry and you cried the entire time. You’d had enough and put her in her crib, hoping she’d cry it out like Joyce said. She had to hate you, why else could you not get her to stop crying. Her feeding schedule was normal, she never had trouble, and while nursing hurt badly, you’d had luck with not getting any clogged ducts.

“Fuck,” You cried after shutting the door. Your chest was bubbled with emotions, teary eyes scanning the mess of your small home. It was hard to move around in there, especially with a baby, but you didn’t want to bother Eddie with requesting a more expensive home. He did enough as is. You’d felt guilty for snapping at him like you did, but you were at your absolute wits end. You were on the floor folding laundry an hour later when Eddie came home.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie smiled, looking around for his daughter. “Joey asleep?”

“Finally.” You glanced up at him briefly. “She’s been crying all day. I haven’t had time to do anything at all.”

“Well,” He sat down beside you, grabbing the clothes from your hand. “I want to take you out tonight. I called Robin and Steve and figured we could all go out to dinner. It’ll be good for you to see them.”

You laughed shortly before continuing your work. “Sounds nice, Eddie, but I’m too busy.”

“Nonsense.” He dismissed, taking the clothes yet again and pulling the both of you off the floor as you protested. “Go take a shower, baby. Joyce is going to babysit. She’s on her way over now.”

He was serious. Your face fell. “Eddie.” You swallowed, sighing heavily. “Please, I- honey, thank you, that’s sweet, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” He raised his hand. “You’ve not been out in weeks. You’re too cooped up in here, doll. You need to get out of the house. Steve and Robin are on their way too.”

“What?” You widened your eyes. “Eddie! No, this place is a disaster!” You panicked, your hair falling out of your messy, lazy braid. “God damnit, Eddie!”

“Oh, come on, don’t start getting mad again.” He sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Y/n, I’m trying to help here, okay? No offense, but you’re not making it very easy on me.”

“Oh, my god.” You squeezed your eyes shut, running your hands through your hair. “I’m so damn sorry that you’re having a hard time, Eddie!”

“You don’t have to be so rude all the time, you know?” He threw down his work jacket, taking a step with his heavy boots. “I bust my ass all day and have to worry about the money because I don’t want you worrying about that shit! You’ve got enough on your plate, I know you do, but so do I! Now, will you just let me please take you out?”

“Eddie,” You sobbed, your internal damn breaking. “Eddie, I can’t. The house is such a mess and I have so much to do.” Your face crumpled into tears of hysterics, your hands moving from your sides to your belly. “I’m sorry- I’m trying s-so hard to keep everything together for you but I can’t- god, she hates m-me!” You sniffled, node snotty and red.

“Y/n,” He sighed, face relaxing into a frown.

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “I love her so much but- but it’s just..how am I supposed to do this everyday! I’m so exhausted and I smell and my boobs hurt so bad!” You sobbed, shoulders shaking from the weight of your heartache. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a bitch, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, hey, hey, shh,” He gathered you close, arms entangling around you tightly, hoping to ease your pain. “It’s alright, it’s alright, baby, calm down, shh,” He rocked you, large palm smoothing your hair. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“I don’t feel pretty anymore.” You wept into his shoulder.

“You’re beautiful.” He squeezed you. “You’re always beautiful to me. I’m so sorry you’ve been struggling so much. I should’ve been paying more attention. I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.” He kissed your shoulder, then your cheek.

“I just want you to be proud of me.” You sniffled. “I feel like such a mess and this house, this house that you pay for, I can’t ever keep fucking clean.”

“Honey, I am proud of you.” He took your face in his hands. “I’m so proud of you. The things your body can do is incredible. The things you do every day is incredible. Watching you be a mother is the most amazing thing I know I’m ever going to witness. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

“Credit for what?” You groaned, wiping your nose with your sleeve. “For complaining? For being ungrateful?”

“You’re not ungrateful.” He softened his brown eyes. “You’re having a hard time. It doesn’t make you ungrateful.”

“I’m just sorry.” You whimpered. “Do you still love me?”

He couldn’t help but smile at your innocence. “I’m not ever gonna stop.”

He wound up calling Steve shortly after and told him it would be another time, and that he needed to take care of his girls. He pampered you all night and made sure you didn’t lift a finger cleaning the house. He fed the baby with her bottle while you took a shower, tidying things up along the way. Your shower was almost forty five minutes. He’d ordered chinese food and had it ready when you got out. Joanna sat in her playpen while you both ate.

It really wasn’t much to Eddie, but these actions to you meant more than he could ever say. You laid on his chest on the couch, watching wheel of fortune until you both drifted off to sleep.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #eddie x new mom #eddie munson x y/n

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prophecyofwinter · 25 days

Text

Se Hāedar Qilōni Iprattan Se Jēdar | I

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary | Saera Targaryen daughter of Jaehaerys I ran away from Westeros to escape her fate. 45 years later her daughter Y/N Targaryen, with invitation from King Viserys wishes to go back.

Tags | TargCest, Smut, Standard ASOIAF content, I wanted to write something raunchy with plot, Aemond and Reader are First Cousins Once Removed.

Prologue

Chapter I | The Rest and More

With lots of persuasion from you and lady-lessons from your mother, she deemed you fit enough to sail to King's Landing. However she would not send you alone, she entrusted your safety to your slightly elder brother Vaegon.

He had trained for years in the Temple of Light to become a swordsman, and a fine swordsman he was. Brother or not he really did piss you off most of the time, now more than ever. Once he learned of your impending betrothal to the Targaryen Prince he soured up more than normal. He berated your Mother for days on how she could ever allow this.

He would of course still be a bastard even if you were legitimate, this was only so you could marry Aemond.

“What if he is ghastly! You know someone being unmarried for this long most likely means it’s for a reason!”

You weren’t sure what stick Vaegon had up his ass but you wouldn’t let him ruin this for you, this voyage was bad enough. Perhaps you’d be able to claim a dragon, there are plenty laying around on Dragonstone…

“I am sure I will be able to handle whatever Prince Aemonds complexion is, especially having to witness you for the past 19 years.”

————

“In King’s Landing you can’t wear these kinds of fabrics, these are a whores garments there.”

Your mother threw your old clothes to the side and motioned for you to turn around. She put a thick and hard piece of material around your waist and tied up the back.

“Alright my sweet, breathe in and-“

Suddenly all the air in your lungs was forced out in a shriek as your whole rib cage was crushed under the pressure of whatever the absolute hells this was.

“This is beauty in King’s landing! This will become your life, remember this is what you wanted.”

—————

You’d be at sea for about a month or less depending on the winds. You craved to be back on solid ground, your stomach was not agreeing with you. Sleep escaped you night after night, only catching small power naps multiple times a day before the rocking of the ship would wake you once again.

The tight clothes and strict codes for ladies your mother had laid upon you for survival in Westeros weighed in your head. You hoped your husband would not be as overbearing as you’ve heard of Westerosi men to be.

—————

Your mother had called some of her top prostitutes to come in and teach you the rules and ropes of intercourse.

“The merchants from Westeros really enjoy the girls who act sweet and innocent. You will be expected to provide as much as he pleases, and you mustn’t bore him.”

The brunette climbs on top of you and places her hips between yours, both of you fully clothed doesn’t make the moment less intimate than what you’ve had.

“Now, let’s act out how you cry out for mercy, how you beg for him to be gentle on your body.”

She begins to mimic the motions of intercourse to test and see if you are ready for what she claims will become of your life. A weird sense of embarrassment stings throughout your body, you weren’t expecting this kind of training. You didn’t know there needed to be this kind of training.

“Come on my lady, let's hear you!” She taunts you with a laugh, she grabs your wrists and pins them to the bed to really get it out of you.

——————

You could only spend most of your time reading, reading history books and other stories from Westeros. You could speak the language fluently enough, but you will get it fully soon.

Hopefully you won’t have to give up your favorite foods, the Targaryens should be rich enough to import all the finest things from Essos. Pomegranates, Watermelon, Blackberry Wine, Duck and the list goes on…

The salty air fills your nose, it would be lovely if you weren’t seasick constantly. Reading distracts your mind enough to forget your current feelings.

You haven’t heard anything about the other Targaryens outside of the history books, you don’t even know what the current ones are like…

Your mother doesn’t have good views of, well, anyone. She told you to expect the worst from most of them, if they were anything like her father then you should be watching your back at all times.

Amongst all things and her dislike for Westeros, she wanted to see you happy the most. She said time and time again she would allow you to come back no matter what.

She was sweet and kind where a mother should be.

——————

“What if I claimed a dragon? I could visit you at any time I wanted to, right?”

You asked your mother over morning tea, you were to set sail later today. This would be the last time you would see your mother for the foreseeable future.

Saera rubbed her aging finger over the rim of her cup and laughed to herself a little.

“A dragon isn’t something you can promise, most of my siblings never claimed a dragon in their lifetime.”

You huffed and pouted, your motivation to claim a dragon only increased tenfold. Ever since you were a child when you were told you couldn’t do something it would only make you want it more.

“However, if you were to claim a beast… you would fancy Silverwing I believe. Or if you seek to be bitter, my father would roll in his grave if he knew my child claimed Vermithor…”

Saera laughed to herself heartily, entertaining her child’s wild ideas. She doesn’t doubt you would attempt to claim but she doesnt be believe it would be successful.

——————

Viserys was not expecting Saera to accept his proposal. So he was shocked when Alicent burst into his chambers with a letter in and holding it out to him in anger.

“What is this?! You offer Aemonds hand to the daughter of a whore?! What were you thinking!”

He left out a guttural cough into the fabric of his handkerchief. The unexpected stress of Alicents

rage seething onto him, he was gonna tell her… eventually.

“He is my son too, I must leave no Targaryen unaccounted for. I cannot die in peace knowing there is a- a good Targaryen across the sea. You have been trying to get Aemond wed for years, it- it is the best choice.”

Alicent braces herself on a wooden chair and lets out a deep breath with her head down. Her husband is a fool, he will look like a fool to the seven kingdoms and this girl is proven to be used.

The Queen remembers how she would read to King Jaehaerys on his deathbed and he would mistake her for Saera. He would reach out to her and ask for forgiveness, the guilt would eat at her because it was not hers to give. Until the day his body gave out and he couldn’t muster words anymore he would ask for Saera.

To Alicent, Saera had made her choices and she wanted to be where she was. To bring her bastards into it was too far, she had no choice in the matter. Being the Queen didn’t matter if the King already made up his mind.

“You will force me to greet her I presume. You are far too ill to make it to the port.”

Gods, Viserys already fell back to sleep. Rotted skin exposed and clearly pain stricken. Alicent sighed out loud in frustration and stormed out of the room, guards opening and closing the doors for her.

While she would like to think she knows how Aemond will feel about such an arrangement. He has been without betrothal for all his life and the ladies of the court actively avoid him. Perhaps this is something he needs.

#aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #house of the dragon

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javierpena-inatacvest · 10 months

Text

Chapter 2: What's Cookin' Good Lookin'?

Summary: After you meet Javier Peña giving a presentation at your elementary school, you get ready to meet him at your co-worker's backyard cookout. You just hope that he remembers you.

Warnings: Mentions of Javi's past with the DEA, mentions of grief/death, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of blood and needing first aid (nothing major), Javi taking care of you, allusions to sexual tension, you being a sarcastic asshole and Javi being too smitten to care

Word Count: 8.5K

A/N: Shout out to Chucho Peña for being the G.O.AT. And Javi putting his DEA first aid skills to the test. Thank you for the likes and reposts! These two are fun to write.

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

Javi couldn’t think of the last time that he had turned on the radio in his truck. It had practically gone untouched since he had returned home to Laredo. But today, on his way back to the Sheriff's Department, he had put music on full volume the whole drive. His brain overflowed with images of you. Your smile, your laugh, God, the way you looked in that damn dress. The sweet smell of you still lingered in his mind as you had gotten only inches away from his lips. “See you on Saturday.” If he had known that today’s trip would have ended like this, he would have become the damn D.A.R.E representative of the office. He was so consumed with thoughts of you, that it wasn’t until he had passed City Hall that he realized he had driven by the Sheriff's Department 15 minutes ago.

“How’d it go, Peña?” Javier could barely take 3 steps into his office before Carter was already at his door. “You sure look happy.”

“Hey, look who made it out alive!” A 2nd voice chimed in from outside the office door, Carter’s partner, Detective Miller.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be that bad! Was the hot one there that I told you about? Jesus, I’d go back to do that stupid ass presentation again just to see her.”

“God I hope she was, she must have been out sick the day I went because all I got were 3 middle aged ladies and disappointment.” Carter and Miller laughed to each other.

“Definitely would have paid way more attention if she was my fuckin’ teacher, god damn, she is a hot piece of a-”

Javier was no stranger to his co-workers checking out women on the job, hell, he was guilty of it too. But there was something about the conversation that made his stomach churn with jealousy.

“She’s got a fucking name, alright? Don’t talk about her like that.” Javier snapped, leaving the two men standing in his doorway stunned. Given his reputation, Carter and Miller thought Javier would be quick to join in on the banter.

“Jesus, sorry man. Just trying to have some fun.” The two backed out of his office, not expecting such a reaction from him. Carter was just about to open his mouth, hoping to gain some intel from Javier’s trip, but before he could, Miller gave him a silent shake “no”, gesturing to get the hell out before Carter did something else stupid to piss their boss off.

Despite his interaction with Carter and Miller, Javi spent the rest of the day in a surprisingly good mood.

Fuck, did he feel… happy?

It obviously wasn’t a look that Javier wore often, considering that as he left the office for the day and gave a smile, accompanied by “Have a good night!” to the office secretary, she looked up at him with legitimate concern and asked if he was okay.

Dust swept around his truck as Javi pulled down the dirt driveway to the front of the Peña ranch. The quaint house was nestled amongst acres of farmland, sat in front of a well loved barn where the horses were kept. The porch was lined with a colorful arrangement of flowers and figurines, all lovingly placed by Lucia, and even more lovingly tended to by her husband, Chucho, who swore his best to keep her garden alive after she no longer could.

The front door let out a faint squeak as Javier made his way through, taking off his shoes and setting down his things before making his way over to the fridge. Reaching at the handle to grab a beer and something to eat, he saw the bright yellow sticky note placed at eye level as he bent down.

Javi,

It’s Wednesday. I’m with Las Vengüenzas (The Embarrassments) for cards. Will be back around 9. There’s leftovers in the fridge. Símon is being an ass today. Watch out.

Love, Pops

Chucho Peña was notorious for leaving notes everywhere around the house. Javi was pretty sure if he didn’t make a bi-weekly trip around the ranch, the entire thing would be covered in yellow post-it notes.

After inhaling half of a leftover sandwich, and finishing off his beer, Javi slipped on his boots and made his way out to the barn to round up and feed the horses for the night. Before accepting his new position at the Sheriff's department several months ago, Javi spent the beginning of his time home from the DEA working with his father on the ranch. When he came home from Colombia, he didn’t really have a plan. Just that he couldn’t take working for the DEA any longer. Even after he had leaked the dark, unsettling truth of what had happened with the Cali Cartel and made a point to politely tell the DEA to fuck off, Javi would still receive the occasional call asking him if he would consider coming back to help fight the drug war raging across the border in Mexico. The request to fuck off got less and less polite with each call.

Still, Javi felt unsettled resigning himself to a life of ranching forever. His body had proved to him that he definitely was not as young as he once was, and he couldn’t help but miss the fact that what he was doing held some sort of significance to make things better.

When Dean Morris approached Chucho about the new training position opening up for the department, he told the elder Peña that the office was willing to do just about anything to have Javi be a part of their team. No field work, normal office hours, pay raise, and good benefits. Just providing his expertise and knowledge to new recruits and staff about strategies to stop trafficking across the border. Javier had considered the option of telling him to fuck right off too, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt like an idiot to pass something like this up. He felt guilty leaving his position at the ranch with his dad, but his father assured him “If I could do it all these years while you were gone, I’d sure as hell look like a fool if I couldn’t keep doing it now. Don’t think you’re still getting out of helping while you’re around, though. You can promise your old man you won’t leave me too high and dry. ”

So here Javi was, making good on his promise. As he opened the gate to the barn, 2 of the horses trotted up to him immediately, knowing that it must be close to dinner time. 3 more slowly followed, leaving one left for Javi to corral.

Where the hell was he?

“Son of a bitch.” Javier muttered to himself, noticing that the last horse he was looking for was all the way across the field, perfectly content where he was standing. Chucho was right, Símon was going to be a pain in the ass today.

“Símon! Get your ass over here! I’m not going all the way out to get you!”

Nothing.

“Fine, starve to death, see if I care.” Javi had a sweet spot for animals, but Símon’s unruly antics tended to make the horse an exception to the rule.

Javi turned his back and made his way to the other 5 horses choosing to give him much less of a hard time. Javi filled the troughs with food, leaving the horses happily munching on their dinner. As he got one last scoop from the bucket to place into the trough, a soft muzzle bumped its way under the scoop, causing the food to fly everywhere. Símon let out a loud whinney, mocking Javier for letting out a startled yell and dropping the remainder of the food all over the floor of the barn. “Stupid ass horse…” Javi grumbled.

As Javi ventured his way back to the house, several more lights had been turned on inside the house, signaling that his dad must be back from his weekly cards night.

Kicking his boots off on the back step, Javi greeted his father. “Hey Pops. You were right about Símon. Pendejo scared the shit out of me and knocked a whole scoop of food out of my hand.”

“Well from what I gather, it seems like that’s a small tarnish on what otherwise seems to be a pretty good day.” Javi could hear the delight in Chucho’s voice from around the corner. He had forgotten that both Maria and Estelle’s husbands were a part of Chucho’s card club, and were probably both delighted to gossip to their husbands about their eventful day at school.

Javi joined his father in the kitchen, pulling out a chair from the dining room table and plopping himself in it. “Word travels fast, I guess.”

“Not fast enough for Maria, apparently. She called me as soon as she got home from school to tell me about today. She was delighted to see you, and even more delighted to tell me that apparently you’re now joining me for the cookout that you very adamantly told me you weren’t going to.” Chucho raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I heard she’s a sweet girl.”

Javi rubbed his hand across the width of his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Pops, listen, it’s not that big of a deal, I just met her today. She seemed nice.”

“Must be a little more than just nice if you’re willing to go through the ringer your mother’s friends are about to put you through on Saturday.” Chucho now delighted in the fact he could tell Javier was becoming increasingly more sheepish as the conversation continued. “Ah, the things we do for love…”

“Dad, listen I-”

“I know, I know, you just met her. But let me tell you hijo, I knew from the moment that I laid eyes on your mother, she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The fact that you’re volunteering yourself to talk with your friends and family you’ve been avoiding since you’ve been home just for another chance to see her? She must be something special.” Chucho sighed, and made his way past Javi, extending his arm out to pat him on the shoulder as he passed by. “I just want you to be happy, hijo. Sounds like today was a good start. Well, this old man is off to bed, I may not be beautiful, but I sure need my sleep. Good night, Javi.”

“Night, Pops.”

Chucho retreated to this bedroom, leaving Javi alone in the kitchen. Javi stared at the pictures hanging on the wall across from the table. His gaze traveled across the wall noting the variety of framed photos. Him as a toddler in nothing but a cowboy hat and diaper, his mother and father standing next to him holding his diploma from his high school graduation, and Chucho and Lucia slow dancing together at their 25th wedding anniversary party. Javi smiled at the joy and happiness radiating off their faces in the photo.

Today was a good start.

You were convinced that time could not have moved any slower than it did between Wednesday and Friday. Exhausted from the end of the school year excitement, you were sure that even a constant IV coffee drip was going to be enough to keep you alive for the next few days. The only thing keeping you going was Saturday. Specifically, Javier Peña.

Your week became a little more bearable in the moments in the staff lounge you got in between inhaling your lunch, listening to your co-workers drabble bits of information about Javier and the Peña family. You tried to absorb as much of it as you can, without trying to sound too over-eager or ask too many questions. On Wednesday, after your encounter, you asked at lunch how the ladies knew Javi. From there, you had learned that his late mother used to work with the rest of the 3rd grade team before passing about a decade ago (And had been inseparable up until then), he had started his new job at the Sheriff's department a few months ago after returning back to Texas (but you couldn’t figure out where or why he was gone), and they were definitely not a fan of some woman named Lorranie (you weren’t sure why on that either, but the look on their faces told you Lorranie was bad news). If there was one thing your co-workers loved to do, it was talk. While you were happy it provided you with some intel about Javi, the thought of what these ladies had been saying about you behind your back was also petrifying.

Some way or another, you finally managed to make it to Friday at 4:00 PM, students now all gone from your classroom and headed home for the weekend. With the few ounces of energy you had left, you began to gather your things from your desk to pack up and head out with the promise of Saturday finally on the horizon.

As you were turning off your lights and closing the door behind you, the 3 Amigas of 3rd grade came strolling up behind you.

“So, mija, are you excited for tomorrow?” Maria said, giving you a playful nudge in the arm as you joined the group of ladies walking down the hallway towards the parking lot. You could already feel your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Of course you were excited for tomorrow. The thought of seeing the tall, broad and handsome man that was Javier Peña was the only thing you through this week. His deep brown eyes, the way his shoulders stretched the back of his navy blue suit, his hands? You had only known this man for less than a week, yet the image of him flooded your brain every day since you met. Not to mention the fact you hadn’t been on a first date (or anything even close to that) since you met Paul almost 3 and a half years ago. It was only now that you felt the nerves swirling around in your stomach, realizing tomorrow you were actually going to see him again.

“Yeah, I’m really excited! I’ve been looking forward to it all week. I’m uh, actually kind of nervous though.” Your voice began to trail off as the women looked at you with a smirking suspicion. You quickly elaborated, trying not to make it too obvious the reason why you were worked up was because of the one person you were most looking forward to seeing.

“You know, because this is my first big party I’ve been to since moving here, and I don’t know a lot of people, and want to make a good impression and-”

“You’ll know us” Linda cut you off with a smile.

“You’ll know someone else there besides us old broads, too.” Estelle winked.

“Mija, there is nothing for you to worry about. Just be yourself, and I’m sure that everyone there will love you. Anyways, we’ve already put in a good word for you, so I wouldn’t be too nervous. ”

“Maria, leave the poor girl be! She’s a tough cookie, she can fend for herself!” Linda retorted. She could tell from the look on your face that this conversation was turning out to make you more anxious than expected. “It’ll be a fun time, mija. Drive home safe and we will see you tomorrow.”

The 4 of you waved and said goodbye as you parted ways to your cars scattered across the parking lot. As you sat down in the driver’s seat, you couldn’t tell if you were covered in sweat from the hot, Texas sun beating through the windows of your car, or because the idea of tomorrow had you a hot mess.

Your apartment was finally starting to feel like home. Pictures of your family hung on the walls, furniture finally delivered, contents of moving boxes unpacked and put away. You were a little too Type A for your own good, and while for the most part, your boxes had been sorted and organized you still didn’t feel settled until everything felt like it had a place. The last thing left to put away was a box marked “CHICAGO” that had sat in the corner of your living room, long after its counterparts had been sorted to their rightful home. You had told yourself that you needed to finally face unpacking this box before the school year came to an end, and with your countdown at 4 days, time was starting to run out.

After you had finished putting away the contents of your school bag, you changed out your work clothes, tossing them in your hamper and rummaging through your dresser to pull out a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized Chicago Cubs shirt, its logo faded and fraying from all of its wear. On your way back to the living room, you passed through the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. If given a choice, it was always Miller Lite. Growing up with 3 older brothers, it was the beer they would sneak you sips of when your parents weren’t looking. It was the beer you drank in college, knowing that a night drinking most liquors would send you to an early grave the next morning. It was what you drank almost every night for months after finding out you had wasted years of your life with Paul, who couldn’t be bothered to give an apology for what he had done to hurt you. If there was one thing you were, it was a little too stubborn for your own good, and you and Miller Lite had a history you weren’t willing to part ways with now.

That lead you back to public enemy #1- The “CHICAGO” box. You saw crossed legged on the floor as you rested your hand on your face, the other bringing the beer to your mouth for some liquid courage. The thing that frustrated you the most about this stupid box was that you knew exactly what was inside it. You could probably name where the contents were positioned inside the box. But every time you came close to ripping the packing tape off, you found yourself frozen in fear. If you opened that box, you would be admitting to the fact that when you were faced with the toughest moments in your life, you chose to run. Run half way across the country without looking back. And that- that made you feel a sense of cowardice that hung heavy on your conscience. You’d like to think that you were strong, determined, willing to stand up for yourself. But when it mattered most, you were none of those things. You were far from it.

So here you were again. You and that damn box. After this week, you didn’t have it in you to intensify the staring contest you had started with an inanimate object, and the prospect of tomorrow was enough to ruin your mood over a stupid container full of things. Exhausted, you sat yourself down on the couch, curled up in a blanket and turned on the TV to watch the next NHL Playoff game.

There were a lot of things you loved about Texas, but their lack of enthusiasm for hockey was a bit disappointing. When people asked you some of things you missed most about the midwest, a hockey fix was at the top of your list. Growing up with 3 older brothers who all played, you were convinced you came out of the womb with skates on. You were also convinced the need to keep up with your brothers is what fueled the fire for your overly competitive nature. The only downside to your love for hockey was when it came to dating. Being around your brother’s teammates, you constantly heard “how hot it was” or that it was “so sexy” when girls knew about hockey, or sports in general. In reality, whenever you brought up your interest on dates, it backfired. It turned into “Well you only know about it because of your brothers” or “It’s weird that you play hockey, that’s too manly.” One man once made the mistake of taking you on a first date to a skating rink thinking it would be cute to teach you how to skate, until you lapped him several times as he wobbled like a baby deer, and made him storm off in anger because a girl was better at skating than him. His loss.

Taking another sip of your beer, you could feel your eyelids growing heavy as you leaned your head further and further into your couch pillow. Despite trying your best to stay awake, exhaustion and comfort swept over your body, as you were lulled to sleep by the sweet sounds of cheering and bullhorns coming from the TV.

It wasn’t until you were greeted by a sharp, stiff pain in your back that you realized you had fallen asleep, curled up on your couch, not even making it into bed last night. You grunted and rolled over to look at the clock hanging above your kitchen counter

10:13 AM

Shit. You were definitely not planning on sleeping in this late. The cookout wasn’t until 2:00, and all you had on your to-do list was to shower and get ready, but the last thing you wanted was for anything to make you late for something you had been looking forward to for the past 3 days.

After taking what you so lovingly deemed the “3 hour shower” (washing and conditioning your hair, shaving, and scrubbing down every inch of your body), you stood wrapped in your towel, staring at your open closet. You swiped through several pieces, throwing them down on the bed, bracing yourself for the personal fashion show that was about to ensue.

Almost an hour later, and half your closet now scattered about on the floor, you were convinced that if you had woken up at 7:00 AM you still would be crunched for time trying to pick out an outfit. What the hell does someone wear to a casual cookout full of a bunch of people they don’t know, and one really hot one that they want to get to know better?

After a few more combinations, you ruled out shirts and shorts, worrying that you were going to look too informal amongst a group of strangers. You dug back through your pile of dresses, trying a few back on hoping to find a solution. At 12:30, you landed on a baby blue sundress covered in small, white and pink flowers. Considering it was going to be 89 degrees today, you figured the spaghetti straps and knee length cut would be acceptable. It made you feel confident, and even a little sexy. After almost an hour of trying to toe the line between cute and casual, you threw on the dress and give yourself a quick run down in the mirror. Not half bad. You spent the last bit of time in the bathroom finishing your hair and a little bit of makeup, a routine you had down to a science, followed by swearing at yourself under your breath as you shoved the explosion of clothes on your floor back into your closet.

As you gathered your things, you took one final deep breath for reassurance as you headed out the door and down the steps to the front of your apartment building. You had been to Maria’s house before for her Cinco de Mayo party, recalling directions and that it wasn’t too far of a walk from your house. The whole way there, your hands were balled in fists squeezing your fingers, fueled exclusively by your increasing anxiety as you got closer and closer to Maria’s house. Knowing the social butterfly Maria is, you shouldn’t have been shocked by the massive number of cars lining the street leading up to her residence. As you walked up to the back gate of the house, you took several deep breaths before mustering the courage to make the trek down to the party. With each step across the hot cement of the sidewalk, your brain swirled with questions

“Is he already there? Is he actually excited about seeing me too, or do the ladies at work just feel bad for me and they’re trying to make me feel better? God, does he even remember that I’m coming or who I am? Fuck, was this dress even a good choice? What if I’m way too dressed up and he thinks I look like an idiot? Jesus, I hope they have alcohol at this thing.

Your heart raced as you approached the gate to her backyard, with a sign in bright, colorful letters that read “Fiesta this way!”. As you pushed open the gate, you were greeted with the thick scent of meats cooking on the grill, followed by upbeat Latin music and chatter amongst the guests. When you looked around, you were greeted by a sea of unfamiliar faces. You began to walk further into the crowd when a tight embraced wrapped around you from behind.

“MIJA! I’m so glad you came!” Maria’s familiarity gave you a slight sense of relief. “Listen, I have to go help with the food, but there are lots of drinks in the cooler so help yourself, food should be up in about half an hour! Not everyone is here yet, but if anyone comes looking for you, I’ll be sure to send them your way.” Before you could make any attempt at a comeback, Maria winked at you and escorted herself back to the porch to continue setting up dinner.

Taking another sweep around the backyard, you made your way over to the drink coolers sitting on the side of the house, when you felt a tug at the bottom of your dress. Surprised, you turned around to see a small freckly face staring back up at you.

“Extoose me. My big bwother says dat your his teacher and dat sometimes you pway with dem at weecess and dat dey weeelllllyyy want to pway baseball but none of da other gwownups will pway and dey need someone to pitch. Will you pweeeeseeee pway wif us?”

Looking up, you noticed a small group of kids gathered in a cluster now smiling and waving at you.

“Hi, Alex. Hi, Sophia.” You waved back at two of the kids you knew from your class. “You know it’s okay to come ask me to play, you don’t have to send your little brother.”

Alex looked at you with a sincerely confused look on his face. “I didn’t know if we were allowed to talk to our teacher if they’re not at school.”

Sophia slapped him with the wiffle ball bat. “Of course you are, stupid. Teachers don’t live at school. They do real people stuff too.”

“If I’m so stupid, why didn’t you ask her, Ms. Know-it-all?”

As the two continued to argue, you took another look around at the party. With the familiar face count only at 3 (being Maria, and Estelle and Linda who you had waved to from afar), you realized that your choices were to either go converse with people you’ve never met, stand alone awkwardly, or go play baseball. The choice seemed easy enough.

“It’s okay you guys, I’ll play with you. Only for a little bit though, okay?”

The kids cheered as they placed a bag full of wiffle balls in your hands, glad to have an adult that would be able to throw a semi-hittable pitch. The kids took turns lining up to bat, as you threw towards them. Giving a little extra encouragement to the ones who needed it, you high-fived each kid as you let them have a “homerun” by running as fast as they could around the backyard. Noticing your collection of wiffle balls had dwindled down to zero, you sent the group of kids to scatter around the backyard to collect as many as they could. As you bent down and reached your hand out to pick up one of the balls close to you, a much larger hand set itself on top of yours.

“It’s been a while since I’ve played, but I don’t think the pitchers are supposed to go out in the field to collect all the balls.”

Shifting your gaze upwards from the grass, your eyes traveled up the length of the figure standing before you. Tight, dark washed jeans, followed by a white, short sleeved button up, that exposed the tanned skin of his chest. Next, a strong jaw and mustache, and deep, chocolate brown eyes that had lived vividly in your memory since first seeing them a few days ago.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would have figured that you’re a teacher by day, MLB pitcher by night.”

You shrugged your shoulders and mischievously rolled your eyes. “Damn, you caught me. My secret is ruined!”

Javi shifted the hand that was on top of yours under your palm, engulfing your hand in a gentle grasp, pulling you up to a standing position.

“Thanks.” you blushed as you brushed your hands down your sides to flatten your dress. You watched as Javi’s eyes darted looking you up and down, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip.

“Can I uh, get you something to drink?” Javi asked. Noticing that his hand was still holding yours, he shifted his weight and tried to casually place his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, a beer would be great. Unfortunately, I don’t think they allow players to drink on the field, but it looks like they called someone in from the bullpen to take my place so I should be in the clear.” You both laughed, looking over to see that none of the kids had seemed to care that you had gone missing, and someone else had gladly taken your place as pitcher.

“I’ll be right back.” As you sat down at the edge of an empty picnic table on the patio, you couldn't help but gawk as Javier’s back turned to yours, revealing just how tight his jeans were and how broadly his shoulders stretched. His trip to get both of you drinks was prolonged by several people coming up to him, either shaking his hand or patting him on the back. You were curious why so many people had such an interest in Javi, and why he didn’t look thrilled about it.

After a few minutes, Javi made his way back to you, two beers in hand. “Well, you sure seem like a popular guy, Mr. Peña.” He slid your drink across the table to you, letting out a small scoff at your comment.

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been home.” He looked around as if he was checking to see that no one else was coming up to bother him.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize. Do you mind me asking where you were?” You took a sip of your drink, and traced your thumb along the condensation of the bottle.

Javi shifted in his seat and continued to look around. “I was uh, I was in Colombia working for the DEA.” It was his turn to take a much longer drink than the one that you just took.

“Oh shit, like the Drug Enforcement Administration DEA?”

“Last time I checked, that was the only DEA I knew of.” He looked down at his beer and let out an uncomfortable laugh. You had seen plenty about the happenings in Colombia on the news the past several years. Needless to say, none of it was “feel-good” content. Working for the DEA was one thing, but if he was down in Colombia? He would have really been in the thick of it. Putting two and two together, it now made sense why his trip to get you both drinks had taken so long.

“Well, um, it does sound like a really interesting job. If you ever want to talk about it, I would love to listen. But I totally get the whole feeling uncomfortable when everyone thinks you’re a hero and wants you to tell them everything when all you want is to not talk about it at all.” You reached out to place your hand on top of his and give him a reassuring smile. He looked back at you with crinkled brows and genuine confusion. You could almost feel his demeanor shift, like you were the first person who had ever considered trying to understand how he felt about the situation he was in. “My dad was a firefighter, I had 2 brothers who were in the military and another brother who’s an EMT. Obviously it’s not fair to compare anyone’s jobs, but they always hated how everyone else felt entitled to their heroism when a lot of the time, they felt far from it.”

He swallowed and clenched his jaw as his puppy dog brown brown eyes locked with yours. No one had ever even bothered to consider the fact that Javi had no interest in talking about his past. That the last thing he felt like was a hero, that he regretted the things he had done. Yet here you were, holding his hand, reassuring him he didn’t owe you anything. He opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s okay, really.” You reassured him once more. “The one thing I do want to know…” Your voice trailed as you took another sip of your beer, Javi’s face once again shifting to concern “is how much Maria has told you about me, and how much damage control I need to be doing.” Breaking the silence, you and Javi both laughed to yourselves. You watched as the tension seemed to dissipate from Javi’s body.

“I could say the same thing. If it makes you feel any better, the only thing I know about you is that you just moved here not that long ago from Chicago, and that Maria was very insistent that I would be an idiot if I tried to do anything to mess up my chances with a gorgeous girl like you.”

“Well the first part is true. I moved here at the end of December, so that’s what? 4 months now? And yeah, I’ve lived in or just outside of Chicago my whole life, so it’s definitely taken some adjusting. The 2nd half seems like a bit of an exaggeration.” You had never been good at taking compliments, but you could feel your cheeks flush.

“Damn, Chicago to Middle-of-Nowhere-Texas? That’s a big move. The 2nd part is definitely not an exaggeration in the slightest. You look…” His eyes shifted over you once more, biting down on his lower lip. “You look beautiful in that dress.”

“PEÑAAAAAAA! How have you been?! Mierda, it’s been too long, amigo!” A clearly drunk party goer was standing next to you and raised up a hand holding his beer, extending it towards Javi. As he continued to stumble toward Javi, he lost his balance, and the glass beer bottle he was holding slipped from his hands, shattering on the cement patio. Glass shards and beer foam went flying on contact, and your shin was in the way of the cross fire.

“Jesus, that hurts, shit!” Looking down at your leg, you watched as blood dripped from the point where a piece of glass lodged its way into your skin. Javi looked like he was about to murder whatever drunken idiot had stumbled his way over to him, but before he could, he had already rushed around to the side of the table you were sitting at. You tried to get up to get a better look at the damage, but Javi firmly grasped your hips and ran his hands down the sides of your thighs to sit you back in your seat. Well, being insanely turned by a man trying to help you get a piece of beer bottle out of your shin was a new first.

“Don’t move. I don’t want the glass to shift around anymore and make the cut worse.” His hands still hadn’t left your thighs.

“Javi, I’m fine. I can walk.” You began to stubbornly protest. You tried to hide the grimace on your face from the pain you felt as you began to stand up again. “Seriously, it’s fine, I’ll go find some first aid stuff and- OH, okay?!”

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi had scooped you up like it was nothing and was carrying you bridal style towards the house. Your head rested against his chest, coming face to face with unbuttoned flaps of his shirt. His scent overwhelmed you, somehow smelling even better than when you bumped into him just a few days ago. The thumb of the hand that was holding you beneath your legs traced back and forth across your knee.

“This seems a little unnecessary, don’t ya think?” Trying to hold it together, you looked up at Javi.

“You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you?” He looked down at you and shook his head with a slight grin on his face.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Javi made his way through the crowded patio to the sliding glass door that led into the house.

“DIOS MIO, WHAT HAPPENED?!” Maria shrieked, her face darting between you, Javi, and the blood running down your leg.

“I don’t know what to tell you Maria, the baseball game back there got pretty heated. Those kids are ruthless.” Your sarcasm clearly did not go over well, as Maria’s expression was now flooded with confusion and panic.

Javi rolled his eyes. “Tell Don he needs to get his drunk-ass together. He dropped a bottle and it shattered, some of the pieces flew into her leg. I’m guessing the first aid kit is still in the upstairs closet by the bathroom?”

“Yes, mijo, but-”

“No, Maria, she doesn’t need to go to the hospital, I’ll take care of her.” Boy, have you never been so excited about being injured.

“I don’t know, Maria, I think I’m dying!” You flopped one of your free hands up to your forehead, doing your best to look like a tragic Renaissance painting.

You could tell Javi was trying his best not to laugh, knowing that Maria was already halfway to dialing 911. “She’ll be fine, I promise.”

Javi used his hip to slide open the door, leading you through the kitchen and up the staircase. All jokes aside and adrenaline subsiding, you were now beginning to realize how much pain you were in as your legs jostled while Javi carried you up the stairs. You scrunched your face and bit down on your lip to try and ignore the pain, but it wasn’t doing much. Javi looked down at you, noticing your face.

“Hermosa, are you okay? We’re almost upstairs, I’m sorry about that pendejo.”

“Yup, I’ve never been better. I feel great, actually. LOVE having this piece of glass stuck in my leg!” You noticed your sarcasm meter was probably getting a little too high for the situation. “No it’s okay, thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna let you bleed out on the patio.” As you crossed the threshold of the upstairs bathroom, Javi shifted you in his arms and sat you down on the top of the bathroom counter. He gave the top of your knees a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.” He made his way out of the bathroom, hearing him rummage around through the closet in the hallway.

“Do I really have a choice?” You heard him chuckle from outside the door. He came back holding a first aid box and a few towels and squatted down in front of your leg dangling off of the countertop.

“You help women take glass shards out of their legs at barbeques often?” You gestured down at the first aid kit, noting how fast he had found it.

“Surprisingly, you are the first.” Opening up the kit, he pulled out a few supplies. “I spent a lot of time playing here as a kid, and definitely went through my fair share of band-aids.” Carefully, he placed one of his hands around the back of your leg, pulling it closer towards him. You were surprised that with hands as big as his, he was incredibly gentle.

Trying to downplay your pain, you looked down at him and asked, “What’s the prognosis, Dr. Peña? Do I get to keep my leg, or are you destined to carry me everywhere for the rest of your life?”

“As much as I would love to, I think you’re gonna make it out okay.” He plucked a pair of tweezers out of the kit and looked up at you with remorse. “I’m gonna pull it out, but it’s probably gonna hurt. Is that okay?” He rested his free hand on top of your thigh. “You can squeeze my hand if you need to.”

Without hesitation, you released the hand that was gripping the edge of the counter so hard, your knuckles were turning white. You slowly interlaced his fingers with his, his thumb stroking back and forth over the side of your hand.

“Okay, whenever you’re ready.” You said, beginning to squeeze his hand tighter.

“Okay. 3…2…”

“FUCK! Agh, so much for 1?! Holy shit, that hurt!” You were trying everything in your power to hold back the tears welling in your eyes, trying to be as tough as possible.

“I could say the same for my hand. Jesus, you’ve got a death grip, hermosa. I’m surprised my fingers aren’t broken.” You released his hand as he laughed and shook it out, now using both to rummage through the first aid kit again. Pulling out some gauze and tape, he carefully wrapped up the cut and tied up the bandage to hold it in place. He was so attentive making sure that you were properly bandaged up, that it wasn’t until he heard your small sniffle that he looked back up at you, noticing a small tear streaming down your face.

Generally, you prided yourself on being pretty damn tough. Growing up with brothers, you learned to play rough and deal with the consequences. More importantly, you hated crying in front of other people. Trying to quickly regain your composure, you tried to subtly wipe the tears off your cheeks, hoping Javi wouldn’t notice. Slowly, he rose up, placing one hand on the counter just outside your hips, the other coming up to your cheek, using his thumb to brush away the wetness under your eyes.

“I promise I’m not a baby, this shit just really hurt.” You said, trying to defend yourself. His hand cupped the side of your face.

“Cariño, you don’t need to apologize.” He leaned his body in closer to yours, your faces now only inches away. “You’ve been un soldado, if anything.”

“A what?” You were surprised your brain even had the capacity for questioning at this point.

“A trooper” Javi leaned in closer, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “So much so, you’re making it hard for me to try and take care of you, considering how damn stubborn you are.” His words whispered down the side of your neck, followed by another kiss. You could feel your heart racing, your breath becoming heavier with each word. Slowly, his body shifted down between the opening of your legs, his hands wrapping around your injured calf, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your bandage.

Your mouth hung half open, praying that your brain would concoct a half coherent sentence. Your hand traveled down to brush the top of Javi’s soft, curled hair, forcing his gaze to shift back up to you. “Last time I checked, I don’t think doctors are supposed to kiss their patients”

He stood back up, both hands now cupping your face as he leaned in and whispered, “well it’s a good thing I’m not really a doctor, am I?” Your mouths met with a magnetic attraction. His hand had now slipped behind your head, raking his fingers through your hair as he pulled you in closer. Your hands that had been grasping the edge of the counter as a form of self control now freed themselves, grasping around Javi’s biceps, reciprocating the closeness you craved. Your body lit up with an electricity that no kiss had ever made you feel before. His hands began traveling down your body, his intensity causing you to let out a small, breathy moan. Your legs slowly wrapped around the small of his back, pulling him tighter. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs as his hands grasped the meat of your thighs as they slowly slid their way under the hem of your dress.

“JAVI?! MIJA?! IS EVERYTHING OKAY?? DO I NEED TO CAL 911?? THERE BETTER NOT BE BLOOD ON MY BATHMAT, I JUST WASHED IT.”

Both out of breath, your mouths parted as Maria’s shrill voice carried up the stairs. You had blacked out for the last few minutes, forgetting you were sitting on top of your co-worker’s bathroom counter, door wide open. Javi rested his head in the crook of your shoulder as he whispered “God dammit, Maria…” under his breath.

“Impeccable timing on her part, to be fair.”

“IF YOU DON’T RESPOND I’M COMING UP THERE AND CALLING THE AMBULANCE!”

“All good, Maria!” You shouted down, Javi’s face still resting by your neck. “Dr. Peña told me it was a close one, but I’m gonna make it out alive.” You both giggled. “We’ll be down in a second!”

“Are you gonna clear me to walk, or am I getting carried again?” You said, giving him a playful nudge.

He gave you a quick kiss. “Just take it easy okay?” Grabbing your wait, he lifted you up and helped you off the counter. He gestured his arm towards the doorway. “After you.”

After you had hobbled your way down the stairs, you and Javi found empty patio chairs along the fence of the yard. After you had sat down semi-comfortably, Javi started making his way back toward the house. “Drink?” He said, looking back at you and continuing his stride.

“As long as you don’t drop it on me, absolutely.”

You were shocked by how quickly the next few hours went by as you sat and talked with Javi. The conversation flowed between you effortlessly as you covered the basic conversations, like your likes and dislikes, favorite things and families. You had even worked up the nerve to tell him how you ended up in Laredo after you broke things off with Paul. Now a few drinks in, your liquid courage had you diving in deeper.

“So, tell me this, Javi. You are arguably one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. You nursed me back to health from what was clearly a life or death experience, and you have impeccable taste, besides the fact that you haven’t seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, or Star Wars, or E.T., which I will forgive you for, as long as you do good on your promise to watch it with me. You have also proven to be an exceptional kisser. How the hell are you still single? Is there something I’m missing? Are you like, secretly married and have a family, a serial killer, wanted by the FBI, are the people at this party a part of some sort of secret cult that’s gonna kidnap me?! C’mon, there’s gotta be something?!”

Javi coughed on the beer that he had just sipped down his throat. “Jesus quierda, no! What would make you think that?”

“You seem too good to be true, there’s gotta be a flaw somewhere, c’mon!!”

“Well, I’m gonna take the high road and assume you’re not any of those things, I could say the same about you. This is most fun I’ve had since being back home.”

You raised your eyebrows and gave him a questionable gaze.

“I’m being serious, hermosa.” You could feel in his words that he meant it.

“Well I’m glad. This is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time too.”

You sat in a comfortable silence. Looking around, you noticed that not only had the sun gone down, but the once bustling backyard had now dwindled down to only a few party goers on the patio and a small crowd inside. The last thing you wanted to do was leave, but you also didn’t want to be walking alone at night, half hobbling from your injury.

“Hey, I’m really sorry, believe me, the last thing I want to do right now is leave, but I probably should start waking home before it gets too late. Not a huge fan of being a woman walking alone in the dark, ya know?”

Javi quickly set down his beer. “You were going to walk home?!”

“What, I’m not allowed to walk?! I don’t live that far, and it won’t take that long, I’ll be fine!” You crossed your arms in defiance.

“The shuffle across the yard I watched you take to go to the bathroom an hour ago says otherwise. Hermosa, let me drive you home, please?”

Too in pain to prove a point, you let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.”

“Thank you. I know you CAN do it, but I will carry your stubborn ass back before I let you walk. Here.”

He extended his arm out to help pull you out of your seat. He followed your lead taking slow steps across the yard, leading you out to the street where his truck was parked. Before you could argue, he opened up the passenger side door and lifted you up into the seat. “Just gotta get the keys from my pops and then I’ll be right back.

“What if I try to make a break for it?”

“It won’t take me long to catch you.”

“Touché.”

Javi closed the door behind him as he headed his way back into the house. Watching him in stride, you really needed to thank whoever made those jeans.

Javi found his dad amongst his friends at the kitchen table inside, talking and laughing amongst themselves. “Hey Pops, can I have the keys?”

Chucho took a sip of his beer and looked around at his friends. “Seems like things are going well then, huh?” The men chuckled to one another. “She’s very cute, Javi. Seems like she doesn’t put up with your Mireda either, I’m surprised she wants to spend more time with you!”

“Well she lives close and walked here and after Don’s clumsy ass still broke a bottle in her leg, I’m not gonna let her walk home. Believe me, I was worried I was gonna have to carry her.”

“I’m giving you a hard time, Javi. Here, take the keys. Don’t worry about me, I’m sure one of these fine gentleman will give this old man a ride home.”

“Thanks pop.” Javi took the keys that were outstretched in his father’s hand. As he began to walk back out to the car, he grabbed Javi’s arm.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile like you have tonight. It’s a good look on you, hijo.”

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still-a-morosexual-help · 1 year

Note

okay so lately I have seen a lot of people claim they hate mammon bc he steals from mc, and like there's nothing wrong with disliking a character lol but I don't recall mammon ever stealing from mc?? like the only thing I can think of is that one time in season 1 I think where he was going through their stuff and said he was looking for something to sell (I think?? it's been a while) and beel straight up calling him a liar lmao l'm just wondered if I missed something? or if this is just newer players who maybe misunderstood that one scene? and I figured if anyone would know it would be you lmao

I got so fucking pissed about this (not at you anon <3) cos this is the third time I got an ask like this, that I scrolled all the way down my 'Obey Me Mammon' tag to June/July 2020 and then slowly scrolled my way up pulling all the receipts I could.....I saw this immediately after you sent it and I just finished now...... turns out it takes 5 straight hours to go through my Mammon tag😶

I have answered this exact same ask twice before and I can only assume it's new people? Like honestly you can't play the game for a long time and still think this (they prove this false within the game in LESSON FOUR)

Not only does Mammon NOT steal from MC, he also:

a.) Gets legitimate/legal jobs whenever he wants to buy MC something (which is pretty frequently)

b.) Shares the money with them when he comes into a large sum of money

But anyway here are the links to the posts talking about all this:

(everything is directly taken from canon or based off canon)

A.) No he doesn't steal from MC

• Full Summary of the Lesson 4 locked chapter where he goes through MC's stuff and a compare and contrast of what we know about Mammon from future lessons, events, devilgrams

• First post talking about this, goes more into detail about him not stealing from them

• Second shorter post about how he doesn't steal from them

• They're literally Partners in Crime

• He straight up refuses the Midas touch (multiple times I believe) after realising it means he won't be able to touch MC anymore

• HEADCANON that maybe he steals/borrows their clothes, with their knowledge, to wear

• In the small introductory manga page they say the thing he likes as much as money is MC

• In S3 he admits to loving MC more than he loves money

B.) He goes out of his way to get MC Presents (which we works actual jobs to earn money for)

• Mammon at the Office Devilgram, where he gets an actual office job so he can buy MC a watch he saw them looking at

• In the Movie Date Devilgram he rents out an entire theatre for the two of them because it was the anniversary of the day they first met

• In the You Always Ride Shotgun Devilgram he rents out a pool for the two of them

• He's always giving MC presents

• Usually he buys matching things for them

• He buys them shoes in their favourite colour

• Mammon's love language

• He wants to share his winnings from a lottery with MC

• He finds a secret second map in the pirate au event and tells only MC so they can share the treasure

C.) It's not just MC, he puts the others before Money too

• In the Presents From Mammon Devilgram he buys presents for everyone

• In The Guardian Demon Devilgram he saves a 9yr old orphaned homeless human girl from a mugger, fosters her and plans to pay for all her needs until she's an adult/can provide for herself - which is why he's always in debt to the three witches who look after her for him, there's also extortion going on from them towards him

• He'd rather lose the entire fortune he won than make Luke upset

• List of times he's put others before money

• He straight up tells Luke he doesn't mind missing out on a reward as long as it means Luke is alright

• Socks for Beel

• He gets a stone for his birthday which can give him whatever he wishes for, he wishes for fortune to come to whoever has the stone and then gives the stone to a student who tried to hurt him

D.) How Mammon works as a character

• Solmare makes you form certain expectations about him and then starts breaking them within the next few lessons and it's amazing to witness

• Friendship, Actions & Reality Vs Calling MC 'Servant'

• Mammon, MC and their Friendship

• Mammon being smart and why he comes off as an idiot

• His thoughts about himself vs MC

• He's actively changing and growing as a character and he knows it

• How Mammon actually views himself

• Why there's a difference in his level of affection in public vs privately

• Jerk with a heart of gold trope but better

• Mammon and how much he cares about consent

• How outsiders see Mammon vs how people from the city see Mammon vs how his close friends and family see him

• Chasing some creep away from MC

• How his relationship with MC changes and grows throughout the season

E.) Other reasons to love him

• Examples of how much he loves MC

• How supportive he & MC are of each other

• Some of his funniest moments

• He's objectively terrifying

• Mammon being a good brother

• He's extremely ride or die for MC

• He waits for MC when they've got to stay late at RAD for other work

• Despite being an ancient being all his best memories consist of the time he's spent with MC

• He created a whole line of toys based around missing MC

• Everything he says about loving MC in his 2022 birthday event

• List of things he's good at

• The amount he loves MC

And this is just a few of my posts about mammon, his character and what there's to love about him

And look it's MORE than okay for people to dislike a character but at least dislike them for something that actually happened?

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dragonanon · 2 months

Note

can you do a chapter based on your Death!Reader and God!Brother hcs where Death wakes up from her sleep and goes to Heaven to check up on her brother's children and everyone is obviously terrified of her?

Hmmm…I’m not typically one to do requests because the urge to write is so sporadic and random for me. BUT I have been thinking about the initial confrontation in Heaven for a while now, so here are some head cannons for that. >w>

——

- It’s a typical perfect day in Heaven…Until it isn’t. Having seen what had become of your realm and learning Heaven was to blame for it, you’re on your way to rip someone a new asshole.

- Screams erupt from the Angels as the ground begins to shake and the bright sky darkens. Sera and Emily rush out just in time to join the Angels in watching in abject terror as a massive pool of darkness forms on the ground, and from it slowly rises a menacing figure.

- The figure is massive, and it only continues to rise until even the tallest building barely reaches its hips. Its six long horns twist and arch toward the sky, only making the figure appear even taller. Upon reaching its full height, the figure spreads its six mighty wings, each one sporting a menacingly sharp claw and all as shrouded in darkness as the rest of the figure.

- As its wings blot out the sun further, the figure opens its many blazing white eyes; two where you’d normally expect to see eyes, a third in the center of its forehead, and dozens more scattered across its wings and body.

- Sera lost all color as soon as she saw the figure rising, and somehow lost even MORE color when the figure opened all of its eyes. She looks like she shit herself, and Emily is panicking, trying desperately to get Sera to tell her what’s going on; she’s never seen the older Seraph look so terrified.

- With this unimaginably imposing figure now looming over Heaven, Adam decides this is the PERFECT time to attack, having been dumb enough to think this was a Demon attacking Heaven.

- The exorcists fly up towards the figure, ready to attack. This only angers the figure further however, and with a rumble that shakes the ground itself, the figure merely flaps its wings; creating a gust of wind so powerful it knocks all the exorcists back onto the ground.

- It’s at this point Sera FINALLY snaps out of it, rushing to Adam in mad panic and damn nearly strangling him while telling him to call off the exorcists. Which he does, albeit with some reluctance.

- This doesn’t stop him from asking Sera what gives, and her response is “Adam you absolute fucking fool, that is DEATH!”

- Now it’s Adam’s turn to look like he shit himself. “Death? As in, “the big man himself’s younger sister” Death?? As in, “the baddest bitch you’ve EVER seen, but can kill ANYTHING by just touching it” Death??? THAT fucking Death????” Ignoring that last statement, Sera’s frantic nodding in confirmation confirms to Adam that he has indeed fucked up. Big time. Adam then proceeds to lose all color in his face and practically cowers behind Sera as she cautiously approaches you, mentally preparing herself to be reaped on the spot.

- Back to your perspective however, you’re fucking PISSED. So pissed that you don’t even notice or stop to think that most of Heaven’s inhabitants likely have NO CLUE who you are, and are likely legitimately fearing for their lives. Meanwhile for all the older Angels and Angelic beings who’ve been alive long enough to have known you before you went to sleep, like Sera, they’re all still very much afraid, but it’s more in line with the “oh shit mom’s home early and she saw the mess we made in the kitchen, she’s gonna kill us!” kind of fear.

- The fact that they sent exorcists at you makes you even angrier. Like for starters, how fucking weak do they think you are that you could be stopped by just some low level Angelic beings with pointy sticks?? And then the audacity to even attack you to begin with, like THEY weren’t the ones who fucked up and you’re just some kind of strange intruder needing to be slain?? The INDIGNITY of it all!

- Your voice booms throughout Heaven, making even the ground tremble at the sheer intensity of it. “WHO DID IT?” You’re met with only silence, so you ask again with more force. “MY REALM IS A COMPLETE MESS WITH MILLIONS OF DISPLACED SOULS RIGHT NOW. SO AGAIN I ASK, WHICH ONE OF YOU FLAT FOOT CHILDREN DID THIS?!”

- Sera replies, voice trembling slightly. “Are…Are you talking about the exterminations? “IF THAT IS WHAT YOU’RE CALLING THIS MOCKERY OF MY WORK, THEN YES.” Sera looks visibly confused and concerned. “But…That SHOULDN’T be possible!…The exterminations KILL the Sinners; their souls should be gone, not stuck in Limbo! There has to be some kind of mistake here!”

- Hearing this, you can’t help but let out a brief but harsh cackle, making the ground jolt from the abruptness. “DEAR YOU HONESTLY THINK A SOUL COULD BE SO EASY TO DESTROY? A SOUL IS A POWERFUL THING FOR A REASON CHILD, IF THEY WERE SO EASILY DESTROYED THEN NONE OF YOU WOULD BE STANDING HERE BEFORE ME NOW!…SO ONCE AGAIN, WHO. DID. THIS?! AND SO HELP ME, IF I HAVE TO ASK AGAIN THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.”

- Whilst Sera is dumbfounded by this revelation, Adam sees a golden opportunity to save his ass and points at Sera. “I-It was her! Yeah it was all fucking HER idea! I-I tried to tell her it was stupid, b-but she just REALLY wanted to go down and kill those bast- Demons! Yeah she REALLY wanted to kill all those poor Demons, can ya fucking believe this shit?!”

- Before Sera can defend herself, the darkness seems to intensify, and she can just FEEL every one of your eyes glaring daggers into her. “SERA…YOU SIGNED OFF ON THIS?? YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, I EXPECTED SO MUCH BETTER FROM YOU! I LEFT EXPLICIT INSTRUCTIONS FOR HEAVEN AND HELL TO WORK TOGETHER TO SORT SOULS FOR THIS VERY REASON! AND NOW BECAUSE OF THESE BARBARIC “EXTERMINATIONS”, YOU’VE COMPLETELY DESTROYED THE BALANCE I WORKED SO HARD TO CREATE AND MAINTAIN. I HOPE YOU’RE PROUD OF YOURSELF, BECAUSE I’M CERTAINLY NOT!”

- It’s a strange and mildly amusing sight to see the head seraph get scolded like a misbehaving child by this massive dark entity. But here we are anyway!

- At one point during the tongue lashing you’re giving to your niece, Emily buts in and asks for an explanation for what’s going on; having not heard Sera’s previous explanation to Adam apparently.

- Your temper flares for a brief moment, and you just about launched into another lecture at the little shit who DARED interrupt you. But upon seeing Emily, you softened considerably, seeing that she was young and TRULY didn’t understand what was happening.

- “AH…I APOLOGIZE DEAR, BUT I DON’T THINK I RECOGNIZE YOU…COME CLOSER LITTLE ONE SO I CAN SEE YOU.” You slowly crouch down and lower your hand, offering Emily to climb onto it. Emily is hesitant, obviously a bit scared of you. But Sera encourages her to go to you, she knows that you won’t hurt Emily and it’s high time she meets her aunt anyway.

- With the small seraph in hand, you stand back up to your full height and bring her closer to your face. Now FINALLY able to see her properly, you speak. “YOU’RE FAIRLY YOUNG FOR A SERAPH…YOU MUST’VE BEEN BORN DURING MY SLUMBER, AND IN THAT CASE I APOLOGIZE THIS HAD TO BE OUR FIRST MEETING. TELL ME, WHAT IS YOUR NAME CHILD?”

- Her voice trembling slightly, Emily tells you her name and then asks who you are and asks if you’re a seraph like her and Sera. The innocent question gets a genuine laugh out of you, and despite it shaking the ground it’s a lovely sound. “OH CHILD, I AM FAR FROM BEING A SERAPH. THOUGH I CAN SEE WHY YOU WOULD THINK THAT. YOU WERE ALL MADE IN MY IMAGE AFTER ALL.”

- Seeing the visible confusion on Emily’s face, you elaborated. “LONG AGO, YOUR FATHER WANTED TO SHOW HIS APPRECIATION OF ME. SO FOR HIS FIRST SENTIENT CREATIONS, THE SERAPHIM, HE BASED THEM ALL ON ME.” Emily looks surprised, and follows up by asking how you know God.

- You give another genuine laugh at her question. “SWEETY I’M HIS YOUNGER SISTER, I AM “DEATH”, THE GODDESS OF WELL…DEATH. BUT YOU CAN CALL ME “D” OR “AUNT D”, MOST OF YOUR SIBLINGS DO.” Emily’s mind is blown “Wait! YOU’RE aunt D?! Sera told me all kinds of stories about you before you went to sleep, like the time you got into an argument with Father over his invention of the “Snuggie”. I never thought I’d get to meet you!”

- “IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A BATHROBE YOU WORE BACKWARDS, AND I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE HE THOUGHT THAT WAS AT ALL CLEVER.” You huff, feeling amusement and mild irritation at that memory.

- “SPEAKING OF YOUR FATHER, WHERE IS HE?” Sera speaks up, having managed to recollect herself, and explains that no one has seen or heard a word from God since before you went to sleep.

- The irritated snarl that leaves your throat sounds like thunder and shakes the ground, making everyone tremble with fear. “THAT LAZY BASTARD HAD ONE FUCKING JOB, WATCH HIS DAMN KIDS, AND HE COULDN’T EVEN DO THAT?! NO WONDER THIS ALL HAPPENED THEN, HE LEFT YOU ALL UNSUPERVISED!”

- Bending over, you carefully set Emily down before standing back up. “I HATE TO CUT MY INTRODUCTION SHORT, BUT APPARENTLY I NEED TO GO AND HAVE A LITTLE CHAT WITH YOUR FATHER.” You stare pointedly at Sera and continue. “DON’T THINK THIS MEANS YOU’RE ENTIRELY OFF THE HOOK EITHER. WHILE YES, YOUR FATHER’S ABSENCE IS MOSTLY TO BLAME FOR THIS DEBACLE, YOU ALSO KNOW BETTER THAN TO DO SUCH TERRIBLE THINGS. WE WILL BE DISCUSSING THIS MORE ONCE I FINISH WITH YOUR FATHER, AND IF I COME BACK AND FIND OUT YOU HELD ANY MORE OF THESE “EXTERMINATIONS” I WILL TURN YOU INTO A HOLLOW! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” Looking at the ground, Sera nods and says “Yes Auntie D…”

- Satisfied with that response, you bid everyone farewell and slowly melt back into the ground, completely disappearing. Once you’re gone, the sunlight is back and it’s as if you were never there.

- Now the seraphim have to soothe the murmuring crowd while Sera starts attempting to get in contact with Lucifer to let him know that “Hey Aunt D found out about the exterminations and is NOT happy about it. She just got done yelling at me, and now she’s on her way to go read Father the riot act. Just warning you now because once she’s done with him, you’re probably gonna be next.”

- Lucifer receives the message and is now frantically trying to create peace offerings in hopes they’ll make you more amicable, while also preemptively planning his own funeral in case the peace offerings don’t work.

- Meanwhile in God’s palace, God is currently relaxing in an elaborate hot tub and watching American football on an absurdly large TV whilst drinking wine like it’s water. He’s pretty drunk and having a grand time yelling at the TV.

- His fun is interrupted through by you literally kicking in the door and storming in, you’ve shrunken down to your smaller size so all your features are actually visible now and not covered in darkness as you glare at your older brother with an intensity that could peel paint.

- God startled momentarily before seeing it’s you and giving you a dopey smile. He’s also in his smaller form, so that makes things slightly easier for you. “Ohhh heeeyyy Death!…You startled me thereee…It’zzzz beeen awhillle, huh?” You scoff at his slurred speech, in disbelief that he could be so drunk right now.

- “Yes, it HAS been awhile. Good to see that you still choose to spend your days getting completely wasted instead of tending to your children.” You answer tersely, and God rolls his eyes. “Zzstill the saaame old ssstuck up bitch…Tha kidzz are fahine Deee! Yyyoou should cohme haave ah drink wib meee.”

- You ignore God’s offer for a drink and cut right to the chase. “No, your kids are NOT fine! When was the last time you checked in on them?! Do you even know what they’re up to right now??!” God dismissively waves his hand and chugs more wine. “I juzzt checked on thhhem ah couple decades aghooo..They’rrre prohably makinnn neeewh liffe.”

- “God that is a load of shit, and you know it! I was JUST down in Heaven, and the seraphim told me that you haven’t seen or spoken to ANY of them since I left to take my nap eons ago! And furthermore, while you’ve been in here drinking the day away, your children have COMPLETELY destroyed the balance we created! They’ve been mass slaughtering Demons annually for millennia now, and Limbo is a complete disaster right now because of this!” Hearing this, God looks down at his bottle of whine, embarrassed, and mumbles an awkward “oh”.

- Silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment before God clears his throat and says. “Zzsooo…You’rrree NNOT gooing to drink wiff me?” At this you snap and snatch the wine bottle from God and chuck it at the TV, smashing the bottle and the TV. God shouts in anger but before he can ask you wtf that was for, you just lay into him. Calling him a deadbeat and pathetic excuse of a deity.

- “How can you just sit in here day after day, while your CHILDREN are out there causing such mayhem! Do you not love your children all??!” God is shouting back at you, his anger having sobered him up some so he’s not slurring as much. “How DARE you accuse me of not loving my children! I would giive ANYTHING for them and you know that!”

- “Then fucking ACT like it!! Don’t just sit in here and rot your mind with booze and TV!” God growls. “I don’t need you to tell meee how to handle my children! Why do you even care?! It’zzz not like they’re yours anyway!”

- “I care because they are part of MY family, and I want my family to be safe and happy, something that you couldn’t give less of a shit about apparently!” God throws his hands up at this point “Well what do you want from me Death, go hhhold their handz?! My children are ALL capable of thinking and being on their own, they don’t NEED me to do shit for them!”

- “That doesn’t mean that they don’t still need you there emotionally! But with the way you act maybe it’s best you ARE never there! After all, what use could any of them get from your pathetic drunk ass!!” This clearly struck a nerve as God points back at the door you came in through and roars at you to get the fuck out of his house. Growling, you give a harsh “Fine!” and tell him he can sit and be a drunk deadbeat all he wants because you’re done with him and his shit, and he’s NEVER to contact you again unless it’s in regards to his children or business.

- You stomp out of God’s palace and return to Limbo, wanting to start working on getting things cleaned up and cool off some before you go check on things in Hell.

- Once you’re gone though, God slumps his shoulders and hangs his head. With your venomous words echoing his head, he summons another bottle of wine and begins chugging it while he trudges into his bedchambers.

- He flops down onto the bed and picks up a framed photo and slowly brings it closer to his face. It’s an old photo, one taken shortly after God created the first few seraphim. You and God are both standing next to each other, arms around each other’s shoulders and leaning in close while the first seraphim all stand in between the two of you. Everyone is absolutely beaming, and God looks especially happy; so proud of his creations.

- Tears drop onto the photo as God remembers how things used to be back then, back when he was actually NEEDED by those around him and wasn’t just some brand figure who’s only job is to smile and wave. Even as he slowly sets the photo down, tears continue to fall and he holds his head in his hands. “…I’m sorry I’m so damn useless…Hopefully you’ll forgive me someday…Not that I deserve it though…I’m…so fucking sorry…” No one is there to hear God’s sobs, and eventually he passes out. He’d rather be dreaming of happier times anyway.

#damn this ended up being WAY longer than i intended #and with a bit of angst no less!#god isn’t a bad guy he’s just SUPER depressed and suffering an existential crisis #basically after creating the angelic beings he didn’t really have to do anything anymore #because the angels were able to create and think on their own #so there isn’t really anything for god to do now because the angels can do it themselves #with so much time on his hands he started questioning his existence and what he was even meant to do #he feels completely useless because he truly believes that if he isn’t constantly creating things then he has no purpose #he deals with this by holing up in his palace and drinking himself silly and getting high #he has not told you this primarily because he doesn’t know how #he’s much like his son lucifer in that he’s not great at discussing his feelings #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x death! reader #death reader #i like to imagine the seraphim have a group chat and sera just posts in it like ‘aunt d found out about the exorcisms. we’re all dead.’#and it starts blowing up with everyone freaking out and trying to figure out wtf they’re gonna do #lucifer is preparing for the ass whooping you’re gonna give him

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quimichi · 7 months

Text

. . . . ╰──╮FURINA GF HEADCANONS ╭──╯ . . . .

Furina x GN!Reader

*ೃ༄ like I said in another post, she has this talent where she can both be clingy but not. She's a mystery yk

*ೃ༄ will tease you but can get awfully flustered too, especially in public. But she wouldn't admit it, she can play it off very well you won't notice a thing

*ೃ༄ and yes, she always takes you to court, you have a chair beside her. Even asks you about what you think, your view on things are interesting to her especially in some more complicated cases

*ೃ༄ having dinner with you or any food is something she wants and needs. Desperately even. You don't make her feel lonely, obviously. And she is quite intrigued in what you like and dislike, what kinds od textures you enjoy or how you eat this dish specifically. It sounds stranger and stalkerish but listen, the details are important. It makes you, you

*ೃ༄ and discovering you like the depths of fontaines sea? Sign her up. She's quite curious

*ೃ༄ she has secrets herself but it's way more fun getting yours out than hers

*ೃ༄ spontanic, and it's both painful and exciting

*ೃ༄ wants to appear like the best in front of you. Not only does she want you impress you with her abilities as an Archon, but with looks and how she holds herself too

*ೃ༄ legitimately practiced in front of a giant mirror. The poses, expressions, tones of voice literally anything. She even made up conversations that could happen to get better. She really wants to impress you and seem like someone you can look up to

*ೃ༄ has jealousy problems. Will either shut you out completely when she's jealous or will be possessive. Makes sure people know your hers even without her touch on you, without any marks or other such things. People should know because of the way she treats you, and she expects them to know

*ೃ༄ just as much she expects everyone to respect you like her. She's an Archon yes, but you are her love, her everything. If they don't respect you or show care, neither will she for them

*ೃ༄ gives you cutle lil presents in a daily basis, when she spots something shimmery like a shell, she gets it. A necklace, you get it. This pretty rock, you get it. This random rainbow rose, you get it. Yk what I mean, it's always something else, quite exciting huh?

*ೃ༄ kinda like a sugar mommy but also not, at least she doesn't gives off this vibe. Yes she does pay for everything, but you also pay for your own things sometimes, so does she. And you also pay for things for her. It's just that most if the time it's her with the control over the money but you both act very neutral about that, she insist to pay tho-

*ೃ༄ wants all your attention, quote literally. Pay to much attention to this random stranger with a pretty bag and you're done for the day. Kinda pissed off at you but also pissed off at the stranger. Jealous but with this hint of childishness

*ೃ༄ quite insecure, she has an image to keep up. She struggles a lot on the inside and has many issues, a hug can't fix it but it does help. Really, she has hopes you could cure her in a way, fix her-

*ೃ༄ thrives of compliments. She trys to give them back but well, actions and gifts make it better, it's an easier "wording"

*ೃ༄ a relationship with Furina takes a lot of time, she will slowly, very slowly let hurler guard down, show you how she truly is and feels. It takes a lot of work and trust from her side to let any negative thing out

*ೃ༄ as long as you have patience with her, it will be much easier for both of you. But of course she also carries a big part in the relationship and will try her best to make you also feel better!

A/n: idk much about her I just trusted my intuition, but I do really like her so--

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin furina #furina #furina x reader #furina genshin #hydro archon

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theresamouseinmyhouse · 3 months

Text

tim + brentwood characters as boys i was legitimately friends with in high school and think of every single day:

Buzz- Jake (fake names for all of my friends bc privacy reasons) who complained about hanging out with nerds, got into a fistfight with someone else on his football team bc they called us nerds, was thoroughly convinced he'd run laps faster if he was hopped up on pixie stix (i held his backback while he got sick in the bathroom👍👍), he tried to hit on my older sister and she laughed at him, he was so put out he contemplated becoming a monk for a week

Wes: Max, who i helped sneak an entire bottle of orange juice on to the bus to our choir competition, but was unaware he brought a full bottle of vodka as well, ended up crying on our choir teacher for the three hours after the comp and i bought him a box of donuts after school, he did not stop doing this and had severe beef with a kid he knew in 5th grade and hadnt seen since but also hadnt forgotten their name and last i knew, was still awaiting for a dreaded confrontation to eventually come

Kip: Eduardo, who we all thought was studying during lunch but was actually filling his notebook with weird facts he observed about us and also managed to chew several packs of gum at once throughout our math class before the teacher noticed him, didnt know the plot to the clockwork orange so i lied about it for 5 weeks before he read it and called me just to tell me "you lying frog" befire he hung up

Ali: Ángel, who lied several times on separate occasions to the campus security about where people smoked, forgot what chihuahuas were twice, and almost drowned when he was swimming except his older brother got him and he immediately called me while waiting for the ambulance to tell me he almost fucking died, randomly sang a song about crabs he made up throughout the day

Danny: Ben, helped me with my biology homework because i helped him with essays, once released a live rat into the computer classroom because he had beef with the teacher, once texted me at 11 p.m. because he was having a mental breakdown over his chem work before he realized he was actually looking at trig and i told him id shoot him with a tranq gun if he woke me up like this again, kept forgetting how to tie his shoes

Tim: Teddy, he catfished 6 men over the age of 30 by pretending to be a 13 yr old girl and lured them to the part of town where there is an absurd amount of wild dogs that evade animal control and are known to maul humans, i watched him lockpick the english teacher's door so he could take back an essay he wrote bc it was actually a slash fic he printed out and turned in by accident, we hung out at a dennys once and he accidentally put his hand in syrup, looked me dead in the eye and said "i did that bc im gay" and wore pastel pink for a month bc it pissed off the hall monitor, his dad, and also six teachers he didnt even have class with

#robin 1993 #Tim Drake #Buzz Cohen #Kip Kettering #Danny Temple #Wes Thomas #Ali Ben Khadir #brentwood #Brentwood Era #timmy tag #God i miss my old friends they all disappeared during the lockdown and i never got their numbers back after they fucking moved #I knew so many weird boys when i was like 15 #I was just thinking of them when i remembered the brentwood boys and behold. This post.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for insisting on an apology?

☆I'M SO SORRY THIS GOT WAY TOO LONG☆

(Ok tbh I feel like I already know the answer, but I'd like some other opinions just in case. Also, I kinda need to vent, sorry)

(ALSO- I tried to post this on reddit AITA and holy shit are they picky about submissions- this story got deleted because "no interpersonal relationship problems allowed". WHAT possible conflict situation would not be interpersonal? Can you even have a AITA submission that isn't interpersonal?)

My mom is a premium member of a casino and she found out that the casino was having a BBQ for the premium members and their guests. So she wanted us to go.

Except she didn't find out about this BBQ until the day before it would happen and I had work that day and since my shift had long ended, I would not get a chance to talk to anyone at work about switching shifts and I don't have anyone's number to ask. So my mom decided for me that I should just call out.

Now here's where I might be TA (but I feel like what happened after could earn me back some points)

I was pissed off at the fact that she didn't even ask if I wanted to go or if I was ok with calling out or if I even COULD get someone to cover. She just automatically told me to call out, like I have to listen to her. (I'm over 18. I am an adult) I didn't appreciate that she just decided this for me like I was a child and told her so. This lead to a big fight where I cussed at her and called her a bitch and told her to go fuck herself (not my best moment) and told her to go to this stupid BBQ alone. (I genuinely meant that part about going alone- at least somebody should enjoy it. Also, she's my ride, so I was willing to be stranded with no way of getting anywhere if it would enable her to enjoy her party.)

After I calmed down, I told her I'd be willing to call out if she absolutely insisted. She said no, it was fine and I ended up going to work as usual.

Almost.

About an hour before my shift ends, she shows up AT MY JOB and tells me to ask my manager if I could leave.

No! It doesn't work that way! I work retail. As far as I know, no retail job will let you leave early unless it's an emergency. She worked retail, she knows the drill. So I tell her to think of a legitimate reason why I'd have to leave and I'd tell my lead that. (Luckily I had a lead I was pretty chill with that day and she was like why is your mom here? And when I explained the situation, she was like "yeah I don't really care if you leave, but I need you to make up a legitimate excuse for when [our boss] asks why you left.")

She couldn't think of a reason, and after humiliating me at my job, she left without me noticing and I finished my shift. (It was a very busy and stressful day, even without my mom pulling that shit)

She surprisingly picked me up when my shift was over and we went to the dinner and were able to make it in time and had a nice dinner, so all of her stunts were wholly unnecessary.

She had sent me several long and vicious texts while I was at work that I didn't see until much later in the night. I will quote some of the more vicious ones (text message will have 《》 around them my personal thoughts on the text will be after with *) omitting personal info:

《You are a 26 year old loser [my name] stuck at a dead-end job that you've been doing for almost 5 years. A little bit of a rush shouldn't phase you like it does and you should be able to ask to leave a few minutes early- why can't you?》

*Name-calling is unnecessary and rude. She is constantly putting me down and calling me a loser and insulting my job, like she doesn't also work retail. So it's no wonder why I hesitate to jeopardize my job to please her.

[Context- one of the reasons I couldn't leave, other than the fact that retail Doesn't Work That Way is that I had a huge rush of customers and had to straighten up my department that I was working alone. I was closing and it would be extremely obvious who had left the department a mess and I would get in trouble for it.]

《Who left you with that mess? I overheard them [my leads] talking and they didn't sound like they thought you were being left with anything. They thought you should've handled it and can't do your job if that was a problem.》

*This one really got me and I was VERY glad I didn't see this text while at work, because I probably would've had some kind of meltdown. I honestly do not know how long she's been doing this (probably my whole life) but recently I've been noticing that she keeps trying to plant seeds of doubt and paranoia in me. Mostly by telling me that people are talking about me behind my back and/or judging me. Or telling me that my friends don't actually like me. Another example that I caught recently was her telling me that when I go to retail stores as a customer, she notices other customers and the employees staring at me, judging my hair/outfit/whatever. I immediately thought this was total bullshit, but just in case I was wrong, I paid extra, EXTRA attention to everyone around me when I was out in public to see if anyone was pointing, whispering, looking at me, doing anything to suggest judgement and I honestly did not see a single person even glance at me. I have unnaturally colored hair, so I expected at least one glance, but I got nothing. Side note rant over.*

I'm not going to quote the last text, as it doesn't have any specific quotes that provide any context. She just demanded that if I am not out of work by 5:01 (exactly 1 minute after my shift ends) then she is leaving me stranded and that I need to get my friend to pick me up.

*which....I live in her car. If I hadn't been out on time, I would've been completely stranded at night, with nowhere to go and no way to get there, which as a female, is unbelievably dangerous. It is also incredibly rude to demand that my friend, who doesn't work with me and has his own life, should drop everything and come pick me up and....what? Take me where? I'd probably end up having to stay at his house, which is very rude to basically guilt him into letting me stay at his house for the night*

SO after the dinner, I read all these texts and I was furious and insisted that she apologize to me for 1. Causing a scene at my work 2. All of that nasty shit she said to me in the texts and 3. For blaming me for ruining her plans when even after I went to my shift, we were still able to go to the dinner, so all of the stunts she pulled were entirely unnecessary.

She literally laughed in my face and called me delusional (for...wanting a verbal apology....) and when I doubled down on demanding an apology, she called me a delusional cunt and I still have never received an apology to this day.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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jaeyunverse · 1 year

Text

love for sale (teaser)

PAIRING(S) | nishimura riki x fem!reader

GENRE(S) | fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, fake dating, prep school au

EST. WORD COUNT | i am not sure actually so i will say anywhere from 5k to 12k

WARNING(S) | profanity, prejudice, class discrimination + all warnings to be added in the full fic

SUMMARY | nishimura riki wants to piss off his mother and you need money to keep studying at clayton prep after your scholarship is under the threat of being terminated. it just so works out that you’re the exact kind of person his mom despises, and riki has more than enough money in his bank account to fund your education.

TAGLIST | permanent taglist + @1-800shutthefuckup @tyunni @songchan @yunjardi @woniewonwon @jennaissantes @luvkpopp @kimipxl @toeeater394737 @wzy3ka @wqstcrn @heetoldme send an ask or comment to be added!

AUTHOR’S NOTE | i don’t even know how long this wip has been catching dust in my docs LOOOL i am very excited to get started on it though! i hope u enjoy the teaser <3

Nishimura Riki was really starting to get on your nerves.

Normally, he was a person who couldn’t stop riling you up for his amusement. You tried to pretend he didn’t exist, but there was something about him that compelled you to shoot back with a jab of your own every time he taunted you.

Your life without his annoying presence would have been simpler, but overall, he was harmless.

However, his behaviour from the past few days was really starting to make you wonder if he had gone off the deep end and finally lost his mind.

“Leave me alone, Nishimura!” you snapped, tired from having to tell him the same thing over and over again. “I am not doing you the stupid favour.”

“I’m not asking for a favour!” he protested. “I’m willing to give you anything you want in return. This is a legitimate transaction involving give-and-take.”

“I don’t want shit from you and you’re an idiot to think of your proposed arrangement as a mere transaction.”

“You’re making a mistake, Y/N.”

“No,” you said, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. “I would be making a mistake if I agreed to be your fake fucking girlfriend. How the hell did you even think to ask me that?”

Riki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He glanced around your school hallway and grabbed your wrist, pulling you along to god-knew-where.

“Wha—” you began, but he cut you off.

“It’s too crowded here. We can’t discuss this matter in public under any circumstances.”

Scoffing, you snatched your arm back. He paused for a moment, watching you overtake him and walk ahead. When he didn’t follow, you glared at him over your shoulder.

Riki rolled his eyes and took long strides towards you. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” you replied sharply, not allowing him to walk beside you and making sure to stay a step ahead.

Perhaps, Clayton Prep’s snobbiness had rubbed off on you more than you’d suspected. Though you supposed it was bound to happen someday since you’d been surrounded by teenagers born with a diamond spoon in their mouth for the past few years.

Opening an inconspicuous door at the end of the hallway, you trudged inside and found yourself in an empty classroom. Nishimura Riki kicked the entrance shut behind him and turned to you.

“Look, I’m not happy to have this conversation over and over again either, but I need you. I don’t have a fucking choice.”

You snorted. “You need me? Pray tell.”

“My mom hates people who don’t have money and influence.”

“Oh, you could not be more wrong if you thought telling me this would convince me to help you.”

“I’m not done,” Riki snapped. “Just hear me out before you jump to conclusions.”

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest.

“My grandfather’s shares will be transferred to me once I turn 21 and she’s pissed I’m going to get control of the business instead of her,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. “I have no doubt about my mother’s love for me, but she has been dreaming about taking over the company ever since she was a kid. She can’t do that by herself anymore, so she’s going to try to do it through me by getting me to bend to her will. I can’t let her put a leash on me and start dictating my life.”

“If you think going out with me will send her a message, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought you were,” you said and scoffed with disbelief. “You want her to back off, Nishimura? You better come up with something that doesn’t make you look like a spoiled brat rebelling against his mommy.”

“You don’t know my mother,” he growled. “She has always been prejudiced against poor people. Money and power are all she cares about, and I will not let her come after what belongs to me.”

“You know what?” you fumed and stomped towards him, jabbing your finger into his chest. “You’re an asshole. You came to me for help and you still had the audacity to humiliate me. Not to mention that your sob story makes you sound like a hypocrite who only cares about money too.”

“I don’t give a shit about the money. I care about keeping my grandfather’s legacy alive,” he bit back and took a step closer. “There’s a reason he was willing to give his inexperienced grandson his company rather than hand it over to his daughter.”

“Well, I don’t give a shit, Nishimura!” you shouted, throwing your hands in the air. “Deal with your goddamn problems by yourself. We’re done having this conversation.”

Shoving him away, you walked to the door and ripped it open. However, before you could leave, he said, “You’re here on scholarship, aren’t you?”

Freezing in your tracks, you turned around and narrowed your eyes at him. “What?”

“Sorry.” Riki laughed humourlessly. “That was a stupid question. I know you’re here on scholarship. Everyone does, and that’s because Clayton Prep isn’t known for charity.”

“You’re going to end up with a bloody face if you don’t watch what you say,” you warned, trying your best to keep the chain on your temper intact.

“Do you know why this school doesn’t offer scholarships, Y/N?” he inquired and slowly closed the distance between the two of you, unfazed by your threat. “It’s because my mother is a trustee on the board and prohibits financial aid.

“The only reason you were accepted is that my grandfather built this place from the ground up. He wanted you here because saw something special in you. He may have overruled her decision then, but he’s not here to keep protecting you now.”

The colour drained from your face and your heart dropped to your stomach. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m giving a rundown on the facts and am offering you an opportunity,” Riki corrected. “I have more than enough money to pay for your entire education at Clayton Prep. You just have to say yes to helping me piss my mom off.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and stared at him, your hands curling into fists at your side. You couldn’t believe you’d been stupid enough to not predict what Mr. Nishimura’s death would have entailed for you.

Though, you didn’t blame yourself. The man had quite literally picked you from the streets and given you a shot at living a meaningful life. He’d gifted you a future, and you’d spent months grieving his passing.

You weren’t going to beat yourself up for not being a cold-hearted, selfish and conniving bitch.

But now that Riki had pointed out the glaringly obvious, you had to strongarm yourself. You couldn’t let his mother kick you out because you didn’t have the resources to study at Clayton Prep.

Besides, if there was one thing you were aware of without a doubt, it was your self-worth. You’d proved yourself to be smarter than every single student attending the school on several occasions.

Blowing out a breath, you closed the door. There was a gun to your head, and making a deal with Nishimura Riki was the only visible way to survive.

“What do you need me to do?”

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genericpuff · 8 months

Text

no but listen, rachel has truly embodied herself as persephone because she's constantly trying to "distance herself" from her past as a medical fetish artist but then keeps the name that's affiliated with her medical fetish art-

Like, I can't believe I never noticed it before tbh, but that was the thought that hit me while I was explaining to someone on reddit what the name "used bandaid" meant and why it was weird that Rachel is STILL using it on her print cover books, even now when she just recently set up a new Facebook account with her REAL NAME and not the used_bandaid penname (I feel like this is an attempt to "legitimize" herself in the industry but idk).

But that leads me into talking about how she keeps lying about LO being her first webcomic project and that really pisses me off. And yes, this is related to the used_bandaid thing, just bear with me here.

A lot of my contempt for this is for reasons that go beyond her, I just hate the notion that people should succeed on their "first try" and that's an idea that's often sold by people like Rachel who spin these grandiose stories of how they were just "trying it out" and suddenly wham! Fame and fortune! You can achieve all this and more if you just xyz!

Literally, in every interview I've found over the past couple years, she always heavily implies that LO was her "first attempt", that she had never used Webtoons prior to LO, and that she was just "dipping her toes" into the medium. None of this is true, she's literally been drawing webcomics since the early 2000's (possibly earlier but the earliest documentation we can find is of The Doctor Pepper Show), LO wasn't even her first webcomic on the Webtoons platform (that goes to The Doctor Foxglove Show which she ended up dumping a chapter in to work on LO almost immediately after starting it on Tumblr) and as much as she'll claim she "couldn't pay anyone to look at her work", she had landed a number of gigs that got her work out there, had been printed in anthology collections, and IIRC she had even won some small local NZ awards for her comics prior to LO. Shit, there was a local beer brand that had her art on its labelling.

But it really feels like she's trying her damn hardest to hide all that, never mentioning or implying that she did anything prior to LO, that she was just a "struggling graphic artist working in retail" until LO happened.

So why keep the penname that's directly affiliated with that past identity ??

It boggles my mind, honestly, especially considering she had gone by MULTIPLE usernames back then, some of which were actually pretty sane that she could have used instead (such as Rach Alex, which she uses in her FB groups, and Rachel Royale).

I wouldn't blame her if she was trying to hide her old medical fetish stuff, whether she didn't want it affiliated with her new LO branding or if she's just embarrassed by it, I can totally empathize with that because god knows I wouldn't be all that proud to show off the cringy shit I got up to during my early days on the Internet. But if she IS embarrassed by it, you'd think the last thing she'd want to keep is the name that's directly affiliated with the thing she's embarrassed by. Almost like a certain pink protagonist who goes by the name she earned after doing the thing she doesn't want to talk about.

But if she ISN'T embarrassed by it, then why lie?

Why paint this picture that LO was a one hit wonder, that she lived on "struggle street" until she found fame and fortune on Webtoons?

Oh right. Because it's a better story.

Because it's way more romantic to be some struggling indie darling who "came from nothing" and achieved fame through one big idea. Because it looks good for the platform who's trying to attract people to their app and website on the promise that you, too, can be a success story simply because you followed the exact same perceived steps that you saw another person follow and advertise.

If you can't tell from my tone, I really fucking hate this kind of disingenuous wish fulfillment advertising. It's manipulative, it's cruel, and it sets people up with expectations far beyond their scope of reaching, both due to the luck and "being in the right place at the right time" involved at best (which is a HUGE factor in stories like these that people never talk about), or through joy-killing comparison at worst when you don't achieve worldwide fame on your first try and wonder why everyone else did (spoiler: they didn't, they just want you to think that because it makes for better headlines and it gets you using whatever product they're affiliated with.)

If Rachel doesn't want to be tied down to her past, that's fine. But it's incredibly irresponsible and flat out cruel to lie about that past existing at all because it sets a horrible precedent to those who look up to her and want what she has.

And I say all that because I've seen what happens to the people starting out who admire these creators who painted the picture that they were just successful right off the bat. It's not a fun headspace to be in, it's robbed many creators like myself and others of their joy in creating, and it's really all just a ploy to get you to spend time and money and energy on a stupid corporate phone app that profits off your emotional investment and labor. Don't fall for it. Pretending like the Act of Wrath didn't happen doesn't remove it from history.

Anyways, I was gonna leave it at that, but then I ended up doing another rabbithole deep dive through her Wayback Machine and found album art she had illustrated for NZ band PorcelainToy. Enjoy this piece of her "dark era" art that still exists without needing to use the Wayback Machine.

youtube

#sorry btw if this seems like a sequel to the post i just made i stg they're not related #this post was written at like 4 am after doing another hyperfixated deep dive #so it's literally just an unfortunate but funny coincidence that it came right after me talking about my own roots LOL #i gotta go to bed i'm getting stabbed with ink tomorrow #lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #Youtube

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jamielea81 · 10 months

Text

Just Friends

One Shot - 2,700 words

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: A little heartbreaky. A little sweet. A lightly funny. Fluffy. My usual.

Notes: This is just for fun. I know nothing of the private life of Mr. Evans, so take with a grain of salt. This is a little self indulgent as the reader is tall, but it’s only mentioned like twice. No use of Y/N. Enjoy my lovelies.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated but never expected. They do keep me fueled though.

It was ridiculous. Utterly and completely ridiculous. Chris was being a butthead. Plain and simple.

He was the best person you knew but, also the most aggravating person you knew. And he was pissed at you. Not the kind of pissed where it’s forgiven in a day over a beer. No, he wasn’t speaking to you and frankly you didn’t care.

Okay, you did care. But you were pissed at him too. If he hadn’t of asked for your opinion several of times, you wouldn’t have been forced to tell him the truth. He knew better than to ask you five times in one night what you thought about Amelia, especially when you had been drinking.

Amelia was an airhead. She thought too highly of herself and it wasn’t warranted. She didn’t deserve Chris and that’s exactly what you told him. Yes, it was blunt, but he asked you five times. Five. You could only lie so much. And why did he care so much about your damn opinion anyway?

Was your crush on Chris part of the reason for not liking Amelia? No. She really wasn’t a great person and, in your defense, your crush on Chris was new.

It wasn’t one of those “I’ve loved him my whole life” kind of crushes. The kind that you torture yourself with for years. No. Chris had always been your buddy. Your pal. Kind of like a brother to you. Only that had changed in the last year. Honestly, you never thought of him more than a friend. Of course, you had always found him attractive, but you knew lots of guys that were attractive.

Your feelings had changed for him after a night of trivia. It amazed you that you were able to pinpoint so easily when your feelings for him changed.

It was game night at Chris’ place and the two of you partnered up and decided to call your team Whiskeypedia. {Your idea, but he took the credit.) Hugs seemed to last longer than normal that night. Shoulder bumping nudges were frequent, and high fives turned into handholding that made your tummy do flips throughout the evening. These new feelings made you extremely happy and terrified all at the same time. Often you felt yourself shake. Like your nerves, heart, and head could not take it.

Something had changed between the two of you in a few short hours, but you didn’t act on it. You couldn’t. This was Chris! And you, well, you were you.

You were a guy’s girl. Everyone’s buddy. Everyone’s wingman. It has always been that way, even before high school. Always a bridesmaid, but never a bride in a sense. You were too tall at nearly six feet and had curves. And not just in the chest or ass that guys often used to describe a curvy girl. No, you had legitimate curves. Even though you were confident in who you were, you found yourself shrinking down when meeting new people. Hunching your shoulders, and hugging yourself in an attempt to always make yourself smaller.

Men were always a bit intimidated of the tall woman. But with Chris, you were yourself. Never shy about getting in his face when he was being a shithead. Always the first one to have dance off with him when he was being goofy. You were just the real you around him.

The two of you had been friends for a decade and hadn’t gone more than a week without talking, until now. Now two weeks had gone by without a single word from him. You hadn’t picked up the phone either, so that was on you too.

He said some pretty harsh things. Called you too judgmental and selfish. Said you didn’t like when anyone else was happy. That one hurt the most. The words really made you re-evaluate your life and your friendships. You didn’t feel that way. You had been happy most of your adult life. Always celebrated your friends and family’s accomplishments.

He was wrong. The words did not make sense and they really hurt. Especially coming from Chris. From someone you felt knew you so well.

Amelia had come into your life two months ago. Chris had always been quick to fall in love or maybe lust, so when she was suddenly around your friend group all the time, you weren’t surprised. It was something you were used to. He dated a lot and that was just the way it was.

You treated her like you did any of your friend’s significant other’s. You were friendly and welcoming and if you didn’t hit it off, you remained polite.

So, it had been two weeks. Two weeks of trying to keep busy. Two weeks of visiting your parent’s place way more than normal. Thankfully, they weren’t questioning it. Two weeks of feeling pretty low and spending too much money on things that made you feel pretty. New shoes, new clothes, fresh seafood, organic veggies from that upscale grocery store. If anything, this was a life detox. And maybe you needed this break. After all, the crush you had on him for the better part of a year had not dimmed.

Another four days had passed without word from him. But in the midst of water boiling and bacon sautéing in a pan, you heard the doorbell ring. You clicked the Nest icon on your phone which pulled up the front door camera. It was Chris. Chris with his ballcap on backwards, dressed in a sweatshirt and joggers. Despite how good he looked in a backwards cap, he looked rough.

You clicked out of the app and decided to ignore the door. This did little to get rid of your unplanned guest as the doorbell rang again followed by a text message.

Chris: I know you’re home. When you’re out, you leave the outdoor lights on. Let me in.

You replied almost immediately.

You: I’m busy.

You: And frankly, you should have called before coming.

Chris: We don’t do that. You and I have an open-door policy. Don’t make me use my spare key.

“Fucker,” you muttered as you walked to your front door. You turned the lock and walked away, not bothering to open it for him.

The door opened softly and closed with a click. Back in your kitchen, you poured the pasta into the pot, and added a touch more salt to the water.

“Smells good,” he said, as he pulled out a bar stool from the island.

You hummed in response and pulled out two beers from the refrigerator. You placed both in front of him; the unspoken rule that he would uncap the bottle for you.

He tried again. “What are you making?”

“Bacon mac and cheese,” you replied softly before you took a long pull from your beer.

“Do I get to sample this delicacy?”

You shut the burner off where the bacon was cooking and moved the strips to a plate lined with a couple of paper towels, ignoring his question.

“You look like shit, Chris.”

“I feel like it. And thanks,” he said with a smirk.

You shrugged a shoulder and took another pull from your bottle. You busied yourself with wiping down the already cleaned counter and after a few minutes drained the pasta water. You added cream to the pot, salt, pepper, and a little flour. “Make yourself useful and chop up that bacon.” you nodded to the plate.

Chris didn’t object and got to work on his task. He sampled a couple of slivered slices of bacon, but you let it slide.

Once the pasta was finished with way too much cheese, he passed you the plate of chopped bacon and you mixed it in, sprinkling more on top of the completed dish. You grabbed two plates from the cupboard and dished up a large portion for each of you. Picking up your plate, you brought it to your dining table knowing Chris would follow behind you.

Once you both were seated and you had eaten a few bites, you looked him in the eyes for the first time that night. He really did look a little worse for the wear. Dark circles under his eyes with hair mussed after a bit of scratching after he pulled his hat off. “What are you doing here, Chris?”

He exhaled and set his fork on his plate. His hand trailed down his face stopping in his scruff. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out before taking a deep breath. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Apologize for what exactly?”

Were you being a bit of a snot? Maybe. But you were hurt and didn’t know where your friendship stood. He wasn’t getting off easy.

He took a breath and scratched at his scruff again. “For being an ass to you. For saying things I should have never said to you. Things that aren’t true. Really.” He nodded his head once and took another breath, keeping his eyes on yours. “I’m sorry. I’ve been miserable these last couple of weeks without you.”

You pushed your plate away and stood up, downing your beer as you walked back to the kitchen. You grabbed two more bottles and placed them in front of him to open. He did and passed one to you.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m miserable too but you really hurt me. Like this is soul crushing and I’m angry and I’ve never been angry at you. I’ve been mad at you before and you’ve ticked me off, but nothing like this.”

He smirked. The fucker smirked. “Just a time or two.”

“So, I don’t know what to do here, Chris. How do we move on or move forward?” you asked.

It was his turn to stand. He abandoned his beer and went to the living room making himself comfortable on your large sofa. You stood up leaving your beer for a moment before turning around to grab it and bring it with you. You took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa and turned your body to face him.

Chris took a ragged breath and sat forward in his seat. “I think I’ve fallen for you.” He turned to face you, scooting one seat closer, but leaving one cushion between you. He shook his head. “I have feelings for you. You’re my best friend and this scares the fuck out of me.”

Your stomach dropped and it felt like it ran to your bathroom where it was certainly emptying itself. God did you feel like you could puke. This isn’t real life. He has feelings for you? Since when? Why? How? You couldn’t get the words out but the tears sure chose to drop from your eyes at that exact moment.

“Say something. Anything. Please sweetheart.” He reached for your hand and you let him take it.

Sweetheart. Something you have heard him call the women he has dated, but never you. What was happening?

“I – I don’t know what to say.” You shook your head and blinked the tears away. “You have feelings for me?” Anger edged your voice. “Since when? What about Amelia?”

He scooted closer again, using both hands to hold yours now. You yanked yours away and it stunned him for a second.

“I think,” he began “I think I was seeking validation from you when I was asking what you thought about Amelia. I wanted you to tell me she was great and that we were good together.” He licked his lips and grabbed your hand again and you let him. “I think I’ve had feelings for you for quite some time. But we’ve never been that way. We’ve always been friends, so when things started to change for me…”

“When?” you interrupted. “When did your feelings start to change?”

“Whiskeypedia.”

You nodded your head. “Me too,” you whispered.

His eyes widen and he gripped your hand tighter. “I lashed out when you told me how you really felt about her. I knew you weren’t wrong, but I wanted something to work. At least one relationship to work. I screw things up, relationships, I mean. Always have. But I can’t do that with you. I can’t. You mean too much to me to fuck up what we have. But I cannot pretend I don’t want something more.”

“What do you want to do? I can’t stop being your friend, I don’t know how. But now that this is out here in the atmosphere, I don’t know how to go back to that.” You squeezed his hand and let your other hand land on his arm. “I’m scared, Chris.”

“I think we try. I think we go on being us but we see what more we can become,” he said. “It’s us. We can be smart sometimes. Mainly you, but I try.”

You gave him a smile and he used his thumb to wipe away the fresh tears from your face. “Okay... I agree. I guess I did make you dinner after all.”

Chris chuckled and then shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me that feelings had changed for you?”

“Me?” you questioned. “Chris, come on. Look at you and then look at me.” You shook your head. At this rate you would have a major headache for the next several days. “Look at the girls you’ve dated. All gorgeous.”

You stood up and walked to the dinning room, grabbing both plates and then bringing them to the sink in the kitchen to rinse. Chris followed behind you, letting you place the plates in the sink before grabbing your arm and turning you around to face him.

“You are gorgeous. You are smart. You are hilarious. You are caring. You’re my best friend and you are everything.”

Suddenly he was so close to you that his breath kissed your face. The two of you lined up perfectly, eye to eye.

“I came here thinking I’d lose you. I’d tell you I wanted something more and you’d tell me I’m crazy and just your friend. That I would have to go on and pretend I’ve gotten over you and that I could just accept that,” he said. Chris moved a strand of hair behind your ear and held his hand in place while his other hand rested on your shoulder. “Can I kiss you? Please.”

The tears were back. You were scared to death. Scared he would change his mind and realize you were better off friends. Scared his feelings would change and you would lose your friend. Scared he would find someone that would fit the type of woman he normally dated. But you needed to try. You had to try for you and for him. A year of hiding your true feelings and the two of you dating people just to pass the time wasn’t doing either of you any favors.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Chris leaned in slowly. One armed wrapped around your waist bringing your body flush against his while the other held your neck. Both of your hands hugged his waist as you let him take control. It wasn’t rushed. It was in slow motion. His eyes crinkled and he smiled as your noses bumped. You closed your eyes just and your lips brushed against each other’s. Neither of you pulled back, you just held your lips together for what felt like a minute. He pulled back slightly before kissing you again. And again. You smiled against his lips and attempted to pull away but he chuckled and kissed you again. Both your hands traveled up his waist to his ribcage and then to his shoulders as the kiss intensified. One of your hands slipped into his hair and scratched lightly. He let out a little groan and you smiled against his lips again. Chris took this as an invitation to stroke his tongue into your mouth causing a moan of your own. He chuckled and kissed your lips softly before pulling away. His kissed your cheek and pulled the two of you into a hug.

“Maybe we should stop. I don’t wanna, but we probably should. You should probably let me take you out,” he said.

“I probably should, huh? Don’t want you thinking I’m that type of girl.”

“Sweetheart, you couldn’t convince me you aren’t the best type of girl even if you tried.”

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