#and then dream-me kept noticing things that suggested that my dad liked them

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

i had a dream that i had one of showaddywaddy’s records in my collection somehow(i don’t actually but i want) and i was really happy about it and people were looking at it and talking about it with me in my garage even though i don’t keep them there (my records, not the people. i do not keep people anywhere, people are free to go where they choose)

[puckbunnyera]

Mean It | Jack Hughes

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

pairing: jack hughes x reader genre: slight angst (?), fluff word count: 3.2k warnings: cursing, suggestive jokes/innuendos at the end summary: three years after the kiss that breaks your heart, jack decides it's time for a re-do, and this time he means it.

notes: maybe it's because i'm still getting used to posting things for others to see/read because i've said this, or something similar, about everything i've posted so far, but i'm not 100% sure if i like this or hate it. anyways, here is a jack one that i've based (very) loosely off of a dream i had a few weeks ago.

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

I inhale deeply as I open my car door, exhaling once both of my feet are touching the driveway below me. Despite the warmth in the Michigan summer air, the slight breeze that blows by sends a shiver running down my spine as I look up at the beautiful house in front of me. A house that I was once so familiar with. A house that belongs to a family that I consider part of my own. While I've kept in touch with a majority of the family, I haven't stepped foot in this house in years. The summer I turned eighteen was a memorable one, though not in the way I would have liked. The two summers I spent here after were awkward and tense, so eventually, I stopped coming completely. Instead, choosing to avoid the family trips to Michigan every summer with any and every excuse I could come up with. Going to university out of state made it so much easier to make excuses for my absences. Just as my thoughts are beginning to wander, I'm interrupted by the sound of my mother's voice calling out to me.

"Y/N, hurry! We're already late." She calls from where she and my father stand at the top of the porch steps. "And don't forget the wine."

I retrieve the bottle of wine from the backseat, along with my purse, and quickly make my way to meet my parents where they now stand in front of the door. All it takes is two knocks and the door swings open revealing, the one and only, Ellen Hughes.

"Hello!" She greets excitedly, a bright smile on her face as she pulls my mother into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you could make it." She pulls my father into a short one after releasing my mother and then her attention shifts to me.

"Hi, Ellen." I smile shyly and give small wave.

"Hi, Sweet Girl." She steps forward and pulls me into her embrace. "I'm happy you decided to join us this year. We've really missed you." She whispers before stepping back and inviting us into the house.

As we make the short journey to the dining room, I take in what I can of my surroundings. To my surprise, everything still looks the same.

"Do you mind if I stop by the bathroom first?" I ask right before we step into the dining room.

"Of course not," Ellen replies. "Do you remember where it is?" I nod, passing the bottle of wine in my hand to my mother, then turning around to make my way to the bathroom.

• ───────────────────────────── •

"Speak of the devil." I hear my father's voice as I walk into the room, lifting my head to meet his gaze. Despite the nerves that have redeveloped, I disguise them with a playful remark.

"Talking about me?" I scoff, a teasing smile on my face. "That's not very nice, dad."

"All good things, of course." He chuckles.

The facade begins to slip when I finally take notice of my seat, the only empty chair left at the table, right next to Jack Hughes, my childhood best friend turned stranger. As our eyes lock, I'm reminded of the boy I fell in love with when I was fifteen, the same one who broke my heart when I was eighteen. Standing here in front of him now brings the one memory that I have tried so hard to forget rushing to the forefront of my mind.

"Jack, stop!" I squeal through my giggling as he splashes the lake water in my face for the millionth time.

"Take it back!" He shouts through his own laughter.

"Fine!" I yell. "I'm sorry for calling you a brainless idiot."

"And?"

"And for saying that Quinn is better at hockey than you."

"Now was that so hard?" He chuckles, reaching forward and pulling me into his arms, my back against his chest.

We stand quietly, watching the sun set across the lake as we try to catch our breaths. It had become sort of a tradition of ours to sneak off after dinner some nights and go for a swim in the lake. Tonight was just another one of those nights. As the water ripples around us and the sun lowers further below the horizon, I recount all of the past moments similar to the one now.

"I can't believe summer is already almost over." Jack sighs, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"I know." I agree. "It's gone by way too fast, but hey! Look at the bright side. You'll be starting your first year in the NHL this fall. That's something exciting to look forward to."

"I guess." I feel him shrug. Turning around in his arms, I softly caress his face and force him to look at me.

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." He shakes his head, frowning.

"It's not nothing." A frown now forming on my face. "You're upset. Why?"

"I'm nervous." He sighs. "Scared, even. What if I'm not good enough?"

"Don't say that." I stroke his cheeks softly with my thumbs. "You're THE Jack Hughes. You're good at everything." I joke, trying to lighten his mood.

"I'm serious." His frown deepens.

"I am too." It's now my turn to sigh. "If you weren't good enough, you wouldn't have been drafted. It's okay to be nervous and scared. I bet every NHL player, present and past, felt the same way you did when they first entered the league. You just have to go out there and show them what you've got. You'll do great. I know it."

"Thank you." He finally smiles.

"Of course." I return one to him.

"I'm gonna miss this." He pulls my hands off of his face and laces his fingers through mine. "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'm gonna miss you too." I admit. "But we'll always have the summer, right? And maybe when I have breaks from college, I can fly out to Jersey to see you."

"I would like that." He nods.

We grow quiet again, taking in the stillness around us and falling into an impromptu staring contest. Something is the air begins to shift. I suddenly come to the realization that this boy right in front of me, isn't just a friend to me anymore. At least I don't want him to be. And when his lips suddenly crash down onto mine, I'm convinced that he feels the same. The thought, however, is short-lived because he is pulling away faster than he moved in.

"Fuck!" He backs away, removing every form of touch we previously had. "Shit! I didn't mean to do that."

"I-" I pause in an attempt to gather my bearings. "Jack, it's okay."

"No." He shakes his head. "It's not okay."

"You're overreacting."

"J-just forget it happened." He huffs, turning his back to me and heading out of the water. "It was a mistake."

"A mistake?" I scoff, following him back onto land. "If it was such a mistake, why did you do it?"

"I don't know." He shouts, the loudness of his voice taking me back a bit. "Just leave it alone, okay? It didn't mean anything. Just a heat of the moment kinda thing." His words feel like a punch to the gut. An ache forming in my chest.

"Right." I respond sarcastically as tears begin to well in my eyes. Without another word, I grab my towel and start my way back up to the house.

"Y/N" Jack reaches, grabbing my arm gently.

"Don't touch me." I yank my arm out of his grasp and continue walking away.

The sound of a throat clearing interrupts my thoughts and I suddenly remember where I am. With a blush forming on my cheeks, I quickly greet everyone before taking my seat.

"Hi." Jack whispers his greeting, while everyone else is caught up in conversation.

"Hi." I whisper back then quickly divert my attention elsewhere.

Once I settle in, Ellen starts to pass around the food. As dinner officially begins, I silently pray that the tension between me and the man to my left isn't as noticeable as it feels.

"So, Y/N?" Jim starts. "How have you been? We've missed you these past few summers."

"Few?" Quinn butts in, a teasing tone evident in his voice. "It's been like ten."

"It's been, like, two." I roll my eyes with a small smile pulling at my lips.

"That's what I said." He smirks. I ignore him this time and turn my attention back to his father.

"To answer your question, Jim, I've been doing well. And I've missed you guys too. I took a lot of internships during the summer and winter breaks between semesters, so I wasn't able to come visit with my parents."

"We hoped you would fly out with your parents last summer after your mom told us you had graduated that May, but she said you couldn't make it." Ellen speaks.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here." I apologize, catching the sad undertone of her words. "My mom asked me to join, and I would have, but I had already booked a graduation trip to France with some friends that I graduated with. My flight was set to leave three days before they would leave to come here."

"How was that trip by the way?" Luke asks. "Quinn told me you had gone and showed me some of the pictures you took while you were there."

"It was amazing!" I exclaim. "I definitely want to go back. Hopefully sometime soon. The coastal towns, like Nice and Cassis, were by far my favorite."

A genuine smile forms on my face as I continue to recount different moments of my trip. I had forgotten how much I loved spending time with this amazing family. Regret simmers in the pit of my stomach. As conversation flows easily around the table, now bouncing from topic to topic, I am consciously aware of the glances coming from next to me.

Dinner wraps up nicely and we are soon heading our own ways. My father grabs our luggage from the car before he and my mother make their way upstairs to the only spare bedroom left in the house. I grab my things and head to the furnished basement, which will be my makeshift bedroom for the summer.

• ───────────────────────────── •

The house is silent as I slide the back door open as quietly as possible. I'm making my way down the steps when a male voice startles me.

"Couldn't sleep?" Jack questions from where he sits in a chair to the right of the door, hidden by the shadows of the house.

"You scared me." I reply, my hand resting over where my racing heart resides in my chest.

"Sorry." He apologizes, rising from his seat and coming to stand above me on the top step. "Where are you headed?"

"I was gonna go down to the lake for a swim."

"Oh," He responds awkwardly. "Can I join you?"

I bite my lip nervously, not sure how to answer him. Going into this trip, I planned to avoid him as much as possible, yet here we are. Alone. After a moment, I finally find the courage to respond.

"Sure." I reply shortly, turning to head towards the lake, not checking to see if he is following.

Once I reach the edge of the water, I throw my towel down on a large rock and remove the shirt and shorts I had put on over my swimsuit.

The water is cold upon the first touch, but I embrace the difference in temperature against my warm skin as I wade out farther into the water. When I reach a depth that I can stand comfortably in, I stop and listen to the sounds around me.

I can hear Jack's every move as he steps into the water and makes his way towards me. He stops as he reaches my side, our shoulders inches apart.

"Y/N." He speaks softly, voice almost a whisper.

"Jack."

"I-" He starts. He seems to hesitate before opening his mouth to speak again. "I'm sorry." My heart squeezes in my chest.

"For what?" I pretend to be clueless as to what he means.

"You know what?"

"It doesn't matter anymore." I sigh, realizing that playing dumb won't work. "I'm over it."

"You're not." He argues. "You like to pretend you are but I know you better than that. We were best friends, remember?" His use of the past tense causes another surge of pain to hit me right in my chest. But he's right. We were best friends. That's the only reason why I tried to maintain contact for the first couple of years after that summer. Eventually, things just fell off and we stopped speaking altogether.

"Really, Jack, I'm over it." I turn to face him. "We were stupid kids caught up in a moment of high emotions and vulnerability. It was nothing."

"But it wasn't nothing." His voice seems strained as he utters the words. "I know, back then, I said it didn't mean anything, but I lied. It did mean something. It meant everything."

His confession leaves me stunned. I'm truly at a loss for words.

"W-what?" Confusion laces my words.

"I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I was in love with you."

"Jack," I shake my head, tears welling in my eyes. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do." He replies firmly. "And even though we haven't spoken in almost three years, I am still in love with you." Those are the final words it takes to break the dam in my eyes, tears now rolling down my cheeks in steady streams.

"I've been in love with you since I was fifteen, Jack." I confess. "I held back and hid my feelings because I was terrified. I didn't think you felt the same so I kept them to myself in fear that I would mess things up if they got out. That summer, when you kissed me, I felt so happy and relieved because I truly thought you reciprocated them. But when you pulled away and told me that it was a mistake. That it meant nothing to you. It felt like you physically ripped my heart out of my chest."

"I'm sorry." He steps closer, one of his arms wrapping around my waist while his other hand reaches up to caress my cheek. "I'm so fucking sorry."

"I wish things could have been different." I whisper as his thumb softly brushes my tears away.

"Me too." He whispers back.

I sniffle as my tears begin to slow, leaning in to rest my head against his chest and wrapping my arms around his body in a tight embrace. His hand that was on my cheek moves to stroke through my hair. We stand in each other's arms for the first time since that summer. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be held by him.

"Can we try again?" He asks, pulling me back to look into my eyes. "Use this summer to fix things. I know we can't take everything back or get back the lost time, but I don't want to leave this summer without fixing what I can."

"I would love that." I nod. His soft smile causes me to return one of my own. I stand for a while, just looking at his face. Taking in all the changes and trying to refamiliarize myself with his features. Tension settles in upon us, but it's not the same awkward tension as before. It's different this time.

"Feel free to tell me no if it's too soon," He prefaces, before continuing to speak. "But, can I kiss you? You know, like a redo."

"Only if you mean it."

His response is a searing kiss that leaves me breathless in the best way possible. Our lips mold together so easily as if they were meant only for each other. We kiss for a little longer until the smile that forms on my face forces us to part.

"What?" He pulls away, forehead resting against my own.

"This feels like a cliche moment from those romcoms I used to force you to watch with me." I giggle.

"It kind of does, doesn't it?" He chuckles. "But I don't mind."

"Good," I nod, nudging his nose gently with mine. "Because I don't either."

"We should head back in." He steps out of my arms but intertwines a hand with mine. "It's late."

I agree before we head back to the shore to grab our things. The walk back to the house is quiet but comfortable. Smiles remaining on our faces the whole time. Trying to sneak back into the house without disturbing anyone is almost impossible. Jack's arm wraps around my waist as he attacks my neck and shoulder with playful kisses, causing quiet giggles to leave my mouth. And just when I think we've made it in successfully, the kitchen light turns on and we come face-to-face with Quinn and Luke.

"And where were you two?" Quinn asks, the tone of his voice firm as he stands with his arms folded across his chest.

"Uh, we just went for a swim." Jack replies, dropping his arm from around my waist.

"I'm just fucking with you." He chuckles. "I'm glad to see you both back on better terms."

"Me too." Luke nods with a smile.

"Thanks." I smile at the two.

"But," Quinn's voice grows serious again. "You better keep the PDA to a minimum."

"Or what?" Jack counters.

"Or I'll tell our parents about the time you two snuck out when you were sixteen and crashed the golf cart through the neighbor's fence and destroyed their garden."

"That was them?" Luke questions, shock evident in his voice and on his face. Quinn rolls his eyes at the youngest brother's cluelessness.

"You wouldn't." I glare at him as menacingly as I can muster.

"Try me." He glares back.

"Fine." Jack sighs, grabbing my hand to pull me behind him as he exits the kitchen. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I speak to them over my shoulder.

"Goodnight." They reply, shutting off the light and heading up the stairs.

Jack walks me down to the basement where he pulls me into his chest once again.

"You know you can come stay with me in my room instead of staying down here on this shitty air mattress."

"Tempting." I smile, rising onto the tips of my toes to place a quick peck on his lips.

"Come on." He pouts. "We used to have sleepovers all the time."

"Yeah, when we were kids." I point out. "We're adults now."

"Exactly." He states, his voice taking on a duh tone. "Which means we are allowed to do whatever we want. If we want to share a bed, we can share a bed. There is nothing wrong with that."

"It won't be weird?" I ask.

"Not unless you make it weird." I hesitate momentarily before finally agreeing.

"Fine." I nod. "But the second your hands travel lower than my waist, I'm kicking you out of the bed and your sleeping on the floor."

"So what I'm hearing is that the boobs are free rein." He smirks.

"Jack!" I gasp, pushing him away.

"What?" He shrugs. I roll my eyes at him as I gather up a pair of clean clothes and head for the stairs.

"Hurry up, Hughes." I speak back to him as I climb the steps. "I'm tired and we both still need to shower. If you're quick enough, I might let you join me."

"Yes ma'am." He replies, a goofy smile on his face as he bounds up the stairs behind me.

[aineryeo]

The Legend of the Blue Sea Episode 2: Once Upon a Dream

Chapter Synopsis:

Kenji still doesn't know that you've bonded with him, considering him as your mate from there on out. What he does, however, is take a bath with you as he inches on the edge of being the father of a cute giant pink baby lizard; where he makes the decision of keeping you around too. Just enough to investigate about your possible human personality, of course.

Themes & Warnings (Chapter):

Warnings from the General Masterlist | Flashbacks | Canon Movie Scenes | The Ice Bath scene | Nudity | Kenji whimpers :p | Suggestive themes

Author Notes:

Okay I think this is going a little slow HAHAHA, I changed my mind regarding a few plot points but I literally wrote the ice bath scene at 4-5 am in the morning because I couldn't sleep. i keep DREAMING about it. like it wasn't supposed to be part of the chapter tbh but i think st. michael was giving me a sign !!

The Legend of the Blue Sea: Masterlist

Episode 2: Once Upon a Dream ⇾ Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time

“Mom? Mom…” Kenji sobs, there are small sounds of pit-a-pats from where he stood. Which was a community playground filled with colourful slides, swing sets, tubes, and sandboxes.

The playground however, was not as lively as you’d think. The weather was gloomy that day, the sun hiding behind rumbling clouds threatening to spill the water they’ve soaked up from the sea. Kenji kept looking around, yet he remained lost, the same as he was five minutes ago. To the seven-year-old boy, it was like five months.

“Hi,” a girlish voice cuts through the sobs of the only other kid around. “Why are you crying? The other kids here say that boys aren’t supposed to cry.”

Kenji frowns, lips still wobbling as he makes his reply. “I lost my mom…”

“Oh.” You hum, looking down at your mismatched socks, noticing how the boy visibly had brand-new sneakers. “Hmm… Don’t worry, I lost mine too.”

“Really?” The boy replies, nose still stuffy as he tries to wipe it with his sleeve. “Will they find us?”

You shrug. “My real one won’t find me.”

“Your real one? You have a fake mom?” Kenji asks, curious.

“I don’t know. I never met my real one.” You reply, walking to the swings and taking a seat. Kenji does the same, sitting next to you. “But I know my mom right now isn’t my real mom, so, I ran away.” You say all this with such a tone that didn’t contain much sadness; as if it was just a normal thing to do so.

“What? Why?” Your feet kick yourself off the ground, allowing you to move back and forth. Kenji follows suit, trying to match your force. Once he got the hang of it, he continues. “Are you not scared?”

“I am. But they don’t want me, I think.”

There are a few seconds of silence as Kenji could no longer spark up a reply. All you both could do was swing on the set together. Feeling like he has to say something, Kenji blurts out the first thing that came to mind.

“My dad said I should love kaiju even if he fights them.”

“Woah! Your dad fights the giants?!” You exclaim, digging the heels of your red shoes on the dirt below. Kenji only nods at this. His swing keeps going. “I think the kaiju are super cool. And Mr. Ultraman too. Is your dad Ultraman?”

“Dad says it’s a secret.” Kenji replies with a pout.

“Then, would you love a kaiju?”

The question makes Kenji stop, the swing set back in its still state as you stare at each other’s eyes. 

“Baka! Why would I love—” Kenji stops, your eyes remain wide and curious. And despite the stormy weather, they still chose to shine. A heat creeps up from his neck up to the tips of his ears for reasons beyond him. 

“...I’m, maybe?” He trails off, breaking your intense eye contact. He then mutters, unsure and low:“If they’re cute enough, why not?”

Before you could respond, however, you two started feeling the rain slowly drop down, seconds before it turned into a downpour. 

“Ah! It’s raining!” Kenji exclaims. Without saying anything, you grab the boy’s hand, leading him into the plastic tube to hide from the rain.

“We can hide here while you wait for your mom.” You assure, you and Kenji sitting with your knees bent to hug yourself better. Every other second, you scoot closer to each other, trying to get warm from the cold breeze picking up.

It’s a few minutes more of silence, maybe ten or so, that Kenji felt like crying again. You heard sniffles from beside you, making you tilt your head to see his glassy eyes, tears brimming the edges.

“Dummy, are you going to cry again?”

“I miss my mom and dad…” Kenji says quietly, digging his face into the caps of his knees.

You breathe out through your nose, feeling bad for the boy.

“Here, face me.” 

Kenji hums, still upset as he does what he’s told.

“You can’t be sad after this, okay?” You say as you lean in and Kenji felt your lips meet his. “There. That means I’ll be around when your mom and dad aren’t. So, stop crying okay, dummy?”

“You’ll… be around when mom and dad aren’t?” Kenji says after the brief kiss, not really processing what just happened. Both your cheeks and nose were a mix of warmth from each other, and cold from the rain.

“Yes.” Kenji continues to look at you curiously, waiting for more context.

“My mom and dad right now say that’s how married people are. They stay together even if no one else is around.”

You point your small finger to his face, he looks at it then back at your unyielding gaze.

“Especially if no one else is around.” You share the valuable piece of knowledge with Kenji who soaked it all in like you were a prophet. He nods slowly.

“Then, we’re married?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

The conversation ends as you two bask in silence again. This time, Kenji is the one to look over at you, staring at your sombre look towards the passersby covering their children with their umbrella; carrying them on their arms to avoid them getting wet. Your expression barely changes, but the way your eyes lidded lower.. it compelled Kenji enough to hold your hand, shocking you.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?” You ask, mostly out of shock. But you don’t let go.

“I’ll be here too.” 

You realise he’d been staring at you when he said that, making you turn away, resuming your waiting game as you squeezed his hand lightly. He squeezes back. The rain somehow felt more mellow.

Half an hour later, Kenji’s mom arrives at the playground with his dad, ushering him to their car. As Kenji was about to point towards you, he sees you running through the rain, cutting a corner, before disappearing out of his sight.

“What is it, Ken?” Emi Sato asks, carrying the boy in her arms as she checks for injuries, now in the backseat of their car. She glances towards where her son’s eyes were fixated, seeing nothing but the empty playground.

Kenji only shook his head, choosing to say nothing. All he could think about now was when he’ll meet the person he married again.

“Were you lonely, Ken?” His mother asks. He perks up to look back towards his mother’s worried gaze.

There’s only one answer dripping from the tip of his tongue, his hand tingling in warmth, remembering the soft embrace it had just minutes prior. 

“No…”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your lips were soft against Kenji’s slightly chapped ones, both your bodies stuck in the motion of the accidental kiss. There was a small spark of electricity that climbed up from the bottom of your spines, a tingle that's much too noticeable.

It was merely six seconds. 

Kenji would know. 

He counted. 

Six seconds for you to pull away, five of you just staring into the other’s similarly wide orbs; four for Kenji to catch a whiff of that addicting scent he never noticed until now, and three before your eyes finally drooped, your head nuzzling his chest. Kenji's plain white shirt getting wet alongside with it before he feels your whole frame lose its tension, breathing resuming its slow and quiet rhythm.

Kenji remains quiet, his brain absolutely fried, staring straight ahead as he sits to support your weight, comparatively light for the athlete and occasional superhero, especially now that you weren’t a giant. His hands hover over the smooth expanse of your bare back, his legs spread, lightly encaging your snoozing figure. His mouth still ajar, not a word slipping from him.

Eventually, his hands meet the damp skin of your shoulder and the middle of your back, pushing your figure against him even more. He supports your head that was now resting on his shoulder, even as your hair lightly tickles his ear.

“Ken.”

The sudden call of his name from Mina finally releases him from whatever trance he was in. Almost forgetting the giant baby kaiju a few metres away from him who, surprisingly, had settled down; sitting on its hind, watching you and him with a curious gaze.

“I… Uh, yes. Sorry. Uhm,” He clears his throat. “Could you fetch us a towel, Mina?”

It takes only a minute before the ground next to him opened up, a mechanical hand holding the extra white towel was handed to the boy, who takes it wordlessly, working to wrap it around you as delicately as he possibly could. Taking note of your legs and arms littered in bruises and quite nasty wounds.

“I’ll take her to my room, watch over the baby for a minute.” Kenji says. “I’ll prepare the guest room tomorrow.”

“Sure, Ken.”

Once you were wrapped in the soft cotton, Kenji moved to carry you in his arms effortlessly, though he winces every now and then when he rotates his left shoulder a little too much, though it wasn’t that big a deal compared to your injuries. While walking, he would glance at your face, peacefully asleep as if you weren’t even hurt at all. He notes that your eyelashes were the same colour as your hair and eyes, that is, they’re all prismatic in nature; and with the absence of light, there is the absence of colour, where he understands your features much better.

Kenji arrives at his bedroom, setting you down gently on his king-sized bed, turning the duvet so that it covers you, he doesn’t think much of his sheets getting damp from your hair. 

You remain unmoving, both hands rested on your stomach. Kenji finally takes a deep breath in as he drops his weight to the apex of his feet, crouching as he really takes in what happened. 

His hands covers his face; lightly messing his hair in the process as an unexplainable heat pushes its way up from his chest.

Apparently, what happened smelled like Hinoki Wood and Yuzu.

“Ken, your father is waiting outside the door. It seems he has driven here in a haste.”

“Min— Shhh,” He chastises, stopping mid-call to lower his voice. 

“I’ll get to it.” He whispers in reply.

Easily enough, he’s getting off his feet and shutting his door closed as he made his way to the front door. On the way, he starts hearing distant music and giggles from downstairs, along with flashing lights.

“Mina!” Ken calls out from the living room. “What’s going on?”

“The baby had begun fussing two minutes after you two went upstairs, I have discovered that she is currently happy with Doraemon”

Kenji sighs, “Okay, but keep it down a little. Dad might suspect something.”

“But there is something.” Mina replies.

“Shut it, Mina.” He interjects, Mina doesn’t reply, knowing that Kenji particularly has a difficult situation with his father.

Kenji opens the door, looking back to regard if the lights are still on, just as he looks to see that his dad was about to knock.

“Kenji,” his dad almost whispers, a relieved undertone transfixed in the simple call of his name.

In haste, he runs his hand through his hair, ears still catching the tunes playing in the basement.

“Dad, hey. Hey, what’s up?” Kenji leans in, slyly closing the door a little bit more, giving worried glances towards the glass elevator before giving his minute focus back towards his father. “How about that game tonight?” He plays dumb.

“Oh, thank God. You’re okay?” His father fusses.

“Yeah, you know. I’m good.” He allows a little bit more of his body to show that he really was good. “It was a tough battle. I’m a little sore, still recovering, but—”

Suddenly, a screech that Kenji knew was from the baby kaiju pierced through the air, making him reel back in defence behind the front door. His dad, the invader, moving a pace forward like a rook on a chess board made it easy for Kenji to spot the suspicion on his face.

“What was that?”

“Uh…” He needs to come up with something— “Uh, you know. It’s… Uh…” Suddenly, the lights behind him visibly changes. Green, blue, pink— 

“That’s the.. The party downstairs.” He jives along.

Kenji fails to notice the swift change, the quirk of his father’s eyebrows. “The most magnificent creature on Earth has died. The last of its kind.” With each word, his father’s words become more punctuated with anger, hands flailing along with it.

“And you throw a party!?” 

Red. For a brief second or two, Kenji’s mind, his thoughts, were clouded in red; an emotion quickly visible in his face and body. 

“That magnificent creature nearly took my head off, Dad.” 

This time, each word was not only punctuated in anger, but stomps that slowly but surely made his father back away from the shelter of Kenji’s patio, the rain dripping on the old man who could only recede and listen to his enraged son.

“I’ve barely seen you in twenty years. You chose this city and literal monsters over us.”

“No…”

“Then, you get hurt, can’t hack it anymore, and I get to come back and clean up the mess you made as…” Kenji raises his hands in mockery as he sings the branded tune the masses had placed upon his famous counterpart. “Da, da, da, da! Ultraman.”

“—Which I only did because Mom begged me.” Kenji pauses. “And you’re more worried about the monster. Classic.” 

With eyes that sheened in a way that scratches at Kenji’s nerves, his father chalks up a reply. “No… I only wanted to.. protect you.”

It claws in his chest, a familiar wall that’s repeatedly been torn again and again, by the same person; enough so that Kenji could still feel the recurring pain, but no longer does he break down from it.

“But you didn’t.” He says, eyes glassy. “You didn’t even pay attention.”

The furrow in his father’s eyes disappear, a notable change; cognizant of his actions.

Kenji continues.

“Be honest. When Mom disappeared, did you even look for her?”

~

“I stopped hearing it.”

“Stopped hearing what?”

“Do you think kaiju have a special way of communication?” Tadashi asks mindlessly, spinning on his desk chair.

“All animals do, now let me sleep.” Hiro replies, covering his head with a pillow to possibly drown out whatever his big brother could mutter.

But telepathically? 

Is there a possibility? Tadashi thinks, leaning on his elbows that rested on his knees, fingertips of his hands on each other.

And if he can hear it, why can’t Hiro?

Tadashi leans back on his desk chair with an audible sigh. If he were being honest, he didn’t know why he was suddenly so invested in the recent kaiju sighting. His eyes fixated on the smaller version of his whiteboard dedicated to his looking for you in the past three years hidden behind the shelves in his lab at Tokyo Tech. He often hides this side of him from Hiro. This side of him that’s… too dedicated in his search that definitely has been fruitless for years.

It’s simple. 

The scene of the incident, a huge gap in the wall of the building where your personal laboratory was; a trail of disaster followed right after. Like many other kaiju incidents, everyone suspected that it had walked from the sea. Considering that the building was situated on the seaside.

It was late at night when it happened, you went back to your office because you left something and… that’s it? 

You’re just.. gone? Now he has to grief over his sister who he had just spoken to an hour prior to your leaving asking if you wanted some ramen he was cooking because he was too busy studying for his exams and— Tadashi had to catch his breath even though he wasn’t speaking, feeling his heart beat a mile a minute.

They weren’t given much information past that. 

The authorities say that they were just unfortunate that a kaiju had attacked the facility; no security footage, considering that the building was crushed in half. But out of everyone, the guards, other leftover researchers, they were able to leave unscathed while your brothers had to deal with the loss of their pillar; their big sister. Unable to even confirm if you’re dead or not, hoping that you’ll come back, even injured, to them.

Tadashi ran his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time that night.

Truthfully, he was about to give up. He was about to take off all the newspaper clippings, all the letters, all your bank records, any and all leads from his rolling whiteboard; erase all the theories, and maybe, just like his little brother always told him… to just.. move on.

But then, on the way home after Tadashi introduced Hiro to his friends at Tokyo Tech after getting arrested for that night when Hiro won one of many of his recurring bot fights, the invasive sounds of the oceans permeated through his mind; wrapping around it gently like a blanket of warmth, telling him, making him understand— that he had to go there. To you.

“Bioacoustics.” Tadashi snaps, getting his favourite cap off his desk as he runs down the door. A course set to Tokyo Tech.

He leaves, not knowing his little brother whose eyes blink open, a frown on his face.

~

We share the pain of her loss, Kenji. 

“Yeah, right.” Kenji mutters beneath his breath.

A few hours have passed since his dad visited and left, a few hours into the morning. He hadn’t gone down yet, choosing to just have the time to himself for at least once today. A box of donuts beside him as he slumped down lazily on his couch. The distant sound of thunder and the whining of the baby fills Kenji’s ears.

He sighs heavily. Kenji knew that he stepped a line earlier when he mentioned his mother to which his father solemnly left right after he said the same words that were stuck in his head amongst other things. It seems like there’s too many things getting stuck in his head recently, and just for this day alone. How did he even get into this mess?

He was so tired, yet he couldn’t sleep a wink.

Kenji would walk around aimlessly, every other time going to his room just to look at you from the doorframe; still and unmoving, your eyelashes resting easily on your now dry cheeks. From here, where your fins and scales were hidden by the combined efforts of your towel, hair, and his duvet; you absolutely looked human. Maybe part of the 0.1% because of your inhumanely beautiful hair. A princess would fit. You look like a resting princess to Kenji. And he, with his dishevelled hair, stained shirt, and day-old pants, would probably be the fucking peasant on your feet.

Kenji disregards the thought, the shrill whine of the baby reaching his ears. He groans, head drooping down as his hand slides from the frame. Walking towards the elevator after getting his donuts, he heads down to the basement.

Mina, in a slightly panicked tone, explains the baby’s neverending screeches that added on to Kenji’s inability to sleep.

“She settled down for a minute, then started right back up.”

“Yeah! I can hear it!” Kenji replies, exasperated.

“She’s still scared of you, Ken.” Mina explains as Kenji puts down his box of donuts on the floor.

“Ya think?” He gets sassier by the minute, Mina thinks.

Looking back at the shrieking baby, Kenji groans; before clapping his hand with faux energy, walking a little further back to try a little trick up his sleeve.

“Hey! Hey, hey.” He calls out, catching the baby’s attention. “Hiii!”

“Let’s try this.” Kenji mutters, the baby still frowned, faux cries coming from its little— big beak. Kenji motions to himself, “Beforeee.”

Then, he bumps his head as he transforms into his alter ego. “After!”

When the baby caught sight of her other sole parent, a smile was quickly seen on her face.

“Before,” She whines.

“After!” She smiles, chitters crooning from her throat, visibly pleased.

And it goes on like that for a minute, enough so that the baby, seeing her dad transform in and out of Ultraman form, give off a confused expression, still trying to put two and two together. Eventually, her chitters come when Kenji is in Kenji form.

Kenji sighs as he approaches the now happy baby. “You see? It’s me.” He explains, turning around and sitting next to his box of donuts once more.

And it wasn’t even two minutes in that the baby started whining again.

[...]

After tending to the baby that Kenji creatively decided to temporarily name ‘Baby,’ giving her a litter of fish for an early morning breakfast— considering it was probably 3 AM by then, Kenji fell asleep on the floor in front of Baby’s containment unit. 

And woke up to strange drops of liquid on his face.

“Eugh, what the…” His eyes, still squinted and opting for sleep, meets the hazy vision of the baby looking down at him, dripping drool. Drool on him, smelling strongly of fish and guts, and… and.. and drool!

Kenji rolls over quickly just before a fat drop falls directly on his face while his mouth was open.

“Oh, God.” He spits out, trying to wipe the substance off his face. “Ew! Ew!” 

He scowls in a second, transforming into his Ultra. Baby tries to reach for him, but Kenji was already on the verge of throwing up from the stench, his fingers pinch the nape of the baby’s neck like she was a kitten. A disgusting trail of spit follows the baby around and Kenji keeps trying not to gag at every moment when he pulls the baby off the edge of the containment unit.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting.” He shakes his head, hand reaching for the lid of the unit. “Oh, that smell.” He looks at the baby who was so happy in return; tummy full from the meal he haphazardly gave earlier. But then suddenly she burped and let out a glob of drool, enough to cover nearly half of his Ultra’s face, luckily turning a little so as not to swallow anything. He coughs, really about to throw up. Quickly putting the baby back to the bottom of the containment unit, he rasps out a few more gasps and Oh Gods before putting the lid back on where it belonged, not seeing the baby try to reach for him.

“It’s so bad.” Kenji coughs out.

Kenji stumbled back releasing his Ultra-form. Crouching a little as he groans out. “I shouldn’t have eaten all those donuts.” He gasps, brain actively fighting to ignore the horrid smell surrounding him when Mina suddenly approaches him.

“Ken, I know you’re exhausted. But you have a game today.” He has a what?

“After last night? There’s no way we’re gonna play.” He shakes his head.

Mina moves back to flash the holographic news of his coach declaring that despite the battle, the stadium is safe, and we will be playing the game. Oh, bullshit. He is not excited to even see that Yakult Swallows fucker.

“Of cooourse. Of course, we’re still gonna play.” Kenji says, frustration evident in his tone.

“What are we going to do about the baby and the woman, Ken?”

“We aren’t gonna do anything.” Ken replies, shrugging, a mechanical hand giving him his Giants jacket.

“You are gonna have to figure something out.” He continues, putting on his jacket backwards without thinking, walking towards the glass elevator. “Get creative, Mina. You are a state-of-the-art supercomputer.”

The hovering orb listens as she understands the orders given to her; turning back to flash a different kids show towards the baby.

“Studies suggest this isn’t healthy for children.” She states, upbeat music overtaking the basement as the baby immediately fell in fascination of the bright colours.

“Ah, TV, the ultimate babysitter. Just not all this crap all day, okay? I don’t want her getting hooked on that stupid song.”

When finally arriving upstairs, the sun has already risen, he opted to take a quick shower to get rid of all the nasty fish spit left on him by the baby. When entering his room right after to get some clothes, he finds you still fast asleep. Not a twitch, not a hair out of place.

A towel still wrapped around his waist, Kenji decides to approach you in quiet footsteps. If only to check if you were still breathing, and you were, he confirms, after placing his ear close to your face.

“I wonder what your name is,” He says lowly, sighing and sparing you one last look before going to change and leaving for today’s game.

~

⌈ And there’s another strike. Sato just looks exhausted. ⌋

⌈ And now it looks like there are words being exchanged between Sato and the Swallows catcher. Oh! Oh no. We haven’t seen a brawl like this in a long time. Both benches have cleared. They’re throwing punches… ⌋

Now, Kenji was watching this morning’s replay of his ruffle with that stupid Swallows catcher in the middle of his living room. Watching as he sees a pathetic version of himself, missing strike after strike. A litter of bruises and small cuts on his face, his knuckles a nasty mix of blue and purple from delivering similarly menacing blows because of his undiluted anger.

He doesn't sense the silent footsteps approaching him in the dark room, head too deep in the failures within his past two days and the injuries he’s incurred so far. A whine falls from his lips as he tries to appease the patched bruise on his temple with the premium canned drink that mockingly had his once flawless face plastered on.

It was only when you were standing right beside him, dipping your finger in the ice did Kenji fully comprehend that someone was in the room with him. He yelped, almost sitting up.

“H-hey.” Kenji exclaims. “You're awake. What are you—”

His words die down from his throat, words turning to a gulp, when the loose towel around you drops to the ground, exposing you to the man who had his mouth agape, taking it all in before he realises he should be darting his eyes away. 

You don't spare him a glance when you try to step in the tub, Kenji moving his feet to give you room, and really, to begin getting out of there.

I mean, he can't just bathe with you, can he? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to take the indulgent step of bathing in the middle of the living room.

His efforts to go and step out are stopped when you gently place your soft hand on his rigid arm. You're quiet, voice unheard, but it seems like your sounds that blanket over Kenji's cortexes are working just fine. And it— you said: 

Stay.

Like a puppy, he felt compelled to stay. 

So he did. 

You stared at him, and he observed your movements, the cooled can from his hand had long been forgotten as you kneel between his legs, your ice-cold hands dragging along his. From his palm, to the space between his fingers, to his knuckles and… Up, up, up, following the veins that decorated his overworked arms, the ticklish sensation made him drop the can from his lightened grip.

All the while you looked at him so earnestly, and in this light, it's like there was a brief flash of the more natural hue of your features; the usual iridescence dialling down a notch, making Kenji, among the other things you were doing to him, hitch his breath for the subtle flicker in changes.

The moment was quiet, none of you talking as the volume of the video he watched on repeat had been dialled down in his head. All it was in this moment was your touch on his, every gentle, slow drag of the freezing tips of your fingers on his bruises and scratches left such a sensation. Like electric fire on water, but also ice on skin on the hottest summer days.

Whether it was a spark or from the cold, or from something else entirely, Kenji at this moment, didn't care to know. Because your hands finally reached his collarbones, thumb rubbing circles on his Adam’s apple, and if you weren't so… so delicate with your touch, he would have blamed you for making him feel so choked. Like he couldn't breathe, like he didn't want to breathe anything else but the addicting scent you were giving off. You’d have to have been in the ocean for so long. How come you smell like this? Not of salt or fish, or—

He cuts his own thoughts off as he hears a small hum from your throat, his eyes that he hadn't noticed to be so lowly lidded already, on the brink of closing from your light caresses, widens at the slightest hint of your voice.

Your hand traces up from his collarbone, up to his neck, until you're perusing your way to his bruised cheek and damp hair. When you decide to leave your hand on his injured cheek, pressing a little, Kenji involuntarily lets out a whimper, the pain from the punch of that stupid catcher unironically catching up to him.

But even with this, Kenji finds himself leaning to your touch, eyes instinctively closing when the pressure returns to a light careen, allowing himself to delve deeper into the abyss you were taking him into. His cheek where your hand lay felt cool, a separate feeling from the ice, like it's carefully taking his pain away. 

You move the slightest bit, hand pulling away; and Kenji's first instinct when his eyes shot open was to hold your wrist.

“Don't,” He whispers quietly, his cool breath fanning you who looked at him with your currently doe eyes in surprise. It seems that Kenji has a habit of not noticing things involving you. He didn't flinch from the closeness, a surprisingly welcome gesture for him. “Don't stop.”

For a brief moment, he forgets that you're half-kaiju, and that you haven't spoken a word at all since you two met. But when you rise from the water, bare chest seen for his eyes only, his other arm wraps itself on your waist subconsciously. Your legs and his tangle as he sits lower on the bathtub, allowing you to sit taller than him so he can bury his face on the curve of your neck and shoulder, dipping down to the valley of your soft breasts as he sighs in contentment, eyes closed all the while his arms wrap around your torso.

You were sitting on Kenji's navel, arms wrapped around his neck as your hands combed through his hair while you rested your cheek on his temple. It was quiet, not even the sound of the looping clip on the wall-to-wall TV was getting any of yours and Kenji's attention.

It's soothing, this feeling.

Kenji feels like you’re unravelling the knots on his physique, the pure sensation makes his fingers run along your slightly arched back in appreciation. 

With his eyes closed, trapped in your soft embrace, Kenji allows the time to pass by. Not seeing the slowly pulsing, bioluminescent glow of the once normal water of his ice bath. The cooling sensation wasn’t from the ice any longer, but from the conduction of your healing enzymes, your kaiju features coming out strong, the brief reprise of your earlier change in features disappearing, replaced back into its original state of prismatic disposition.

“Ken,” Mina’s slightly excited voice calls out and Ken snaps his eyes open, the once peaceful environment long gone. “We have something to show you.” He groans when the chirps from below reach his ears.

When he pulls away, he’s careful not to let you graze.. him. You only stared in curiosity, wondering why he was plucking himself away from you. Kenji makes a point to only stare at your eyes, and only your eyes despite quite literally using your chest as his pillow not only a few minutes earlier.

“Let’s get changed, okay? Close your eyes so I can get out.”

Kenji shouldn’t be surprised that you didn’t understand what he meant, so he lightly grabbed both your wrists, still pointedly ignoring the curve of your waist, disappearing into the icy bath, and how you were so soft cushioned on his comparatively hard stomach. Honestly… how did he look past all of this earlier?

“Here, cover.” He says, holding your hands over your eyes, the fingers leaving an undeniable gap, which he would close. “Cover tightly.”

When he made sure you weren’t leaving your arms loose, Kenji moved to get up from the tub, his only guiding light is the TV, he scampers for his towel, wrapping it quickly around his waist before turning around to fetch you yours. Only to see that your eyes were already set on him.

“Hey! I said cover!” Kenji exclaims, already feeling his skin growing red from the embarrassment.

“You’re actually a perv, aren’t you?” He asks, but you remain quiet, simply observant of his actions. When he leans down to grab your towel beside the tub, his eyes dart over to his knuckles that were once purple. Now, it was back to his original shade of skin. His brows furrow at this and he immediately moves to touch his once painful temple, cheek, and then arm— until he rotates his dominant shoulder.

The realisation dawns on him as he looks at you, still a little worse for wear, only tilting your head at his gaze.

“No way.” He mutters. Kenji turns on the lights to the room, making you squint and hiss. 

“Sorry.” Kenji offers you your towel, wrapping it around your shoulder. “Come on. Up, up.” He pats his arm for you to take.

[...]

 When he got downstairs, you in tow, Kenji had a little pep in his step. Briefly forgetting the other reason he came down. You were currently dressed in Kenji’s old Dodgers shirt and one of his old boxers; the only few that would fit you. He thought it would be a nightmare to dress you at first, but you were a quick learner. Kenji only had to show you how he got his own shirt first before you followed suit and things went from there; of course when he had to show you how to put on his old boxers, it was decidedly… too much to show you how he does it firsthand.

So, he opted to put on the rest of his clothes in his walk-in closet away from your tailing figure. Kenji decided that he was lucky that his Dodgers shirt was big on you, enough to cover a good portion of your lower half so that when he instructs you to put your feet on the holes of the only other clothes he had that fit you, he wouldn’t be staring it at the face.

“We’re definitely going to need a trip to the mall.”

When the baby caught sight of you and Kenji together, she chittered, the massive fins on either side of her head lightly twitching as she smiled. Kenji gives you a brief look as you grinned so brightly at the baby, your hand that once held on to Kenji’s arm was now set on the glass container as you met the baby face-to-face.

Kenji smiles. “Mina, I have some good news.”

“Wait, Ken. Baby has a surprise to show you, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Yes. What was it?”

When the music started playing, the baby started jumping, dancing along. But the foul odour took away the charm of the cute dance. So much so that even you reeled back, a scrunch on your nose.

“Oh, dear God, what is that smell?” Kenji exclaims, covering his nose with his arm.

“Ken, you cannot feed a 20-foot baby a half ton of fish and expect nothing but a giant pile of—” Shit.

Kenji’s gaze flitters to the green goo that the baby repeatedly stomped on in its little happy dance.

“Which brings me to something we need to discuss.” Mina continues. “Until I am able to find Kaiju Island, we’re going to need to raise her.”

The mention of Kaiju Island perked Kenji’s ears, he’d briefly forgotten how much he needed to send the baby back.

“And as for the woman…”

“No, no. We can’t send her back to Kaiju Island, she’s obviously not a monster.” Kenji stops. “But she does know Kaiju Island. She should, shouldn’t she?”

“It is a possibility.”

“Look, so far, she’s not acting wildly. She’s just a little…” Kenji watches as you peruse the shirt you’re wearing, seeing the peeks of scale glistering from your wounded legs. “New to all this. And she learns fast too.”

Your eyes catch on to Kenji’s and he waves at you lightly. You smile, all pearly white, at him.

“Ken, your heart rate seems to spike when you are around her.”

The statement makes Kenji reel back. “What?!”

The floating robot does not respond from her out-of-pocket statement however, opting to float towards you.

When Mina approaches you, you lean back, afraid of the foreign levitating ball. When the supercomputer emits the same cyan light, you run, all the way towards Kenji who huffs when you bump into him in your haste to avoid getting scanned. Your being scared was obvious as you hid behind Kenji’s back; you three were a little far from the baby now, mostly Kenji’s attempt to smell the stench less.

“What if she was a person before all of this, Mina?”

“There are no records or any news at all of cross-contaminating human DNA with kaiju DNA.”

“It would feel wrong to send someone that looks, acts,” not talks yet, but— “You get what I mean.”

“Then, we’ll just have to arrive at a compromise, Ken. Earlier I said that we must raise the baby,”

“Mina, I’ve got a whole season of baseball ahead of me.” Kenji digresses. “I.. I just can’t do it.” He turns around, about to leave and head upstairs.

For Ken, raising a baby was an entirely different responsibility than… teaching someone, he would reason in his brain. He wasn't going to raise you, he just needed to.. investigate.

You turn your head from the baby to Kenji.

“Ken, you brought her home and now she is your responsibility. I have observed that our other guest doesn’t mind helping you with her. In any case, she’s more experienced towards kaiju behaviour. So if you want to keep one of them, you’re keeping both of them.” Mina keeps going, and Ken can only stay quiet as he steps back with every self-effacing statement the robot made.

“They will both die if you don’t take care of them until they are ready to leave. Now, it won’t be easy, but I’ll do everything I can to help.” The bot asserts.

“We’ll have to continue feeding her, washing her, develop a strategy for taking her to potty.” This makes Kenji flinch, looking at the giant pink lizard who was giggling in the similarly giant glass container she was in.

“You’ll have to learn the five S’s.” Kenji trips back a little as he keeps walking backwards, back slowly to the containment unit. 

“Swaddle, side, shush, swing, suck.”

The sudden rumble of the surroundings makes Kenji and Mina look back, your tail swashing as you transform into your kaiju form; Kenji’s old shirt and boxers on the ground beside you.

~

The night ended rather quietly after Kenji finished cleaning up and with you humming a familiar tune to put the baby to sleep. Along with coming into terms that he basically had a kid starting then. Now, Kenji was walking to his room, ready for bed. The guest room was ready for you to sleep in, and even after Kenji pointed the bed there, you kept following him. He grunts.

“No. You sleep there,” He points again, and you dumbly look towards his finger pointing. However, he reels back when he realises you flinched in surprise at his sudden action.

A weird feeling of guilt overtakes him, and he sighs. “Why are you so clingy with me?” He whispers, mostly to himself, really.

As he went on though, he no longer stopped you from following him. Eventually, he was lying on his bed. You stand there, waiting.

“Come on. Lie down.” Kenji pats the space beside him. The change in disposition is so obvious, your glee spreading across the room and wrapping Kenji in unreposed warmth.

You jump on the extremely soft and fluffy mattress, diving beneath the covers like a bean. A bean that eventually found its place on his chest, grinning widely. Your whole body hid beneath the thick duvet, your face the only thing peeking out. The sight made Kenji breathe out a chuckle as his hand lands on your head, lightly patting it.

“Thank you…” Kenji starts, your chin resting on the middle of his chest, eyes fixated on him. “You know, for whatever you did. I feel better.”

You may not have understood him word for word, but the message seemed to have gone through, ending up with you simply humming and smiling up at him, before your cheek replaced your chin as you begin to get comfortable. 

For now, Kenji can allow this.

He closes his eyes, unknowingly basking in your warmth and the way your body seemed to melt into his.

Taglist: @moonjellyfishie @mochminnie @lovingyeet @vrxouei @secretyna

[competitivemen]

My elder sister always had a lot of male attention, especially since she started at the local university. Every week it seemed there was a new guy trying to get into her pants. She was quite receptive to it and was masterful at flirting just enough to keep a group of guys in perpetual orbit around her. Unfortunately for her and her would-be lovers, our dad was pretty old-fashioned and kept a close eye on her. He had declared that she would have no boyfriend until she graduated. He knew where she was and who she was with at all times, and he had forbidden her from even bringing a boy around the house. He was paying for her college, and she was still living at home, so she reluctantly obeyed. It frustrated the guys, who lusted after her to no end. The perfect young woman, willing to give it up but out of their reach. For a whole year it looked like no one would have the opportunity to do anything with her. That was until they discovered a way to get to her without raising my dad's suspicion. Me. 

I went to the same university she did and was only a year below her. My dad had really encouraged me to go to the same school. He'd given me a big lecture about how I would be able to 'perform my brotherly duty' and 'help safe guard her virtue'. I'd agreed, if only so he'd leave me alone. I hadn't even been there a week before two guys approached me, asking about my sister. 

"Is your sister Ashley Williams?" Said the guy on the left without even saying so much as a hello. 

"Y-yes. She is." I stumbled over my words and felt my face flush. I wasn't used to talking to such good-looking guys, and them both being shirtless didn't help. 

"Your sister's well fit, mate." Said the guy on the right, a big, dumb smile on his face. 

"Er... thanks?" I said. Not being entirely sure how to respond to that. 

"Listen," said the guy on the left, who I later found out was called Derek. "Ashley said that you had a way to contact her without her dad knowing; is that true?" 

"Eh yeah, I told her that if she ever wanted to talk to someone behind dad's back, she could have them go through my phone. Dad doesn't track the content of the messages, just who they are from." I was taken aback that Ashley had already told some guys, since I'd only talked to her about it a few days ago. 

"Excellent, mate." Said the guy on the right, who I'd find out was called Brad. He stretched out his hand. "Give me your phone, and I'll drop her a line." 

"Fuck off; I'm the one who's going to be chatting her up." Derek said, knocking Brad's hand out of the way and squaring up to him. "It's obvious she wants me." 

"In your dreams." Brad said, pushing back against Derek. "Ashley wants to get with a real stud, not a loser like you." 

It looked like neither was going to back down. They seemed to be flexing their muscles at each other, and I was worried they would start swinging punches. "I-I'm sure we can all come to an arrangement." I said, not being able to take my eyes off their bulging muscles. 

Derek noticed where I was looking and smirked. "It looks like your sister's not the only one interested. I'll tell you what. If you let me use your phone, you can lick my chest. That's the sort of thing gay guys like, isn't it?" 

I was momentarily stunned at his suggestion. But I couldn't deny that I wanted to wrap my lips around his chest muscles. Meekly, I handed my phone over to Derek. He gave me a smile and thrust his chest out, offering it to me. Not needing any extra invitation, I bent down to run my tongue along his chest muscles. 

"Dude, I can't believe you're letting him lick you. That's pretty gay." Said Brad, who was staring at me as I bathed Derek's muscles with my tongue. 

"If it gets me access to his sister, I'll let him serve me however he wants." Derek said as he sent a text to my sister with my phone while I worshipped his muscles. Having finished his message, he tossed my phone back to me. "Forward me the reply, and I'll let you service me again when I send the next message." With that, he walked off, leaving Brad in disbelief and me still desperate to continue worshipping him. 

Brad recovered quicker than I did. "Well, if that's what it takes to get in Ashley's pants, I suppose I've got no choice." Brad turned to me; he was running his hand across his six-pack. "I'll offer the same deal. Hand over the phone, and you can give my abbs a few licks." 

I didn't say anything. I simply handed him the phone and began worshipping his abbs. 

It only escalated from there. Ashley began an extensive correspondence with both guys, which meant they were constantly coming to me to send their replies. Both were aware that they were in competition for her attention, so their offers to get at my phone steadily increased. Derek would get ahead by offering to let me suck his toes, only for Brad to counter by letting me clean his post-workout armpits. 

Ashley wasn't aware of what her suitors were doing to get to my phone. She was just grateful for my facilitation of her flirting. Her ignorance meant she didn't realise what she was doing when she declared that the guy who messaged her the most would be the guy she'd be most interested in. This sent Derek's and Brad's competitive efforts into overdrive. In no time at all, they were letting me sniff their crotches through their underwear or letting me stick my face between their ass cheeks multiple times a day. All in an effort to send more messages than their rival. 

It finally came to a head when both of them came to use my phone at the same time. I knew they were tied in terms of the number of messages sent and that Ashley had promised them that whoever had sent the most messages by the end of the day could come over to her house. (Under the guise of being my friend to get past our dad.) Both men were determined to finally get physical access to Ashley and be the one to take her virginity. And I was fully prepared to take advantage. 

When they approached me, I was down on my knees, looking up at them. I gave them a shy smile. "I'll give my phone to the guy who lets me suck their cock." I said. 

Any hesitation they'd once had about letting me serve them had long since melted away due to my tongue and their determination to get with my sister. Both of them responded by pulling down their pants to reveal their already hardening cocks. I took a moment to marvel at the two straight cocks in front of me. Both were bigger than mine, and I was of average size. Derek's was slightly longer, but Brad's was slightly thicker. 

Derek stepped forward first, thrusting his cock against my cheek. "Go on. Suck my cock. Get it nice and ready for your sister." 

"Back off, mate." Brad said as he stepped forward, knocking against Derek's hips and positioning his cock against my other cheek. "He's going to be sucking my cock, and I'm the one who's going to be getting with Ashley." 

Both men began jostling against each other, trying to get in a better position to slide their cocks into my mouth. 

In order to stop them from escalating into a full-blown physical fight, I grabbed their cocks. With one cock in each hand, I quickly stroked them to full hardness. It did the trick in stopping them from fighting, as they were too absorbed in the hand jobs I was giving them. 

Bringing their two cock heads together, I began licking and teasing the tips with my tongue, eliciting curses from them. I made sure to suck on both of them as equally as possible, not wanting to show favouritism. 

Each of them tried to gain the upper hand by grabbing my head and thrusting their cocks forward, past their rival's, and into my mouth. But each time the other would not give up ground, jerking my head back towards them and thrusting forward to deny their foe any deeper access to my mouth. I had to stretch my lips more than I ever had before to keep both of their tips in my mouth. 

After neither could gain an advantage, they began to grow impatient. "He's such a fucking tease. He's going to keep stringing us along." Derek snarled, apparently not directed at me but at his competitor. 

"True that, man. He should make up his mind over who's cock he wants for him and his sister." Brad said. Sharing a look, they both withdrew from my mouth, causing me to let out a whine at the loss of their cocks. 

"Times up, slut. Choose which cock is going to be taking your sister's virginity." Derek said. "Yeah, no more stringing us along; make your choice." Brad added. 

I was paralysed with indecision, wanting to serve both. I honestly couldn't choose between them. It was in that moment that my sister unwittingly came to my rescue. My phone buzzed with the distinctive tone I'd set for Ashley. I quickly snatched it up and read the message she'd sent. It was for her two suitors. I read it aloud for them. 

"Hey boys, what's keeping you? I've been so horny waiting for your sexy messages and I haven't received even one from either of you! Did you forget that I said whoever sends the most messages by midnight gets to come over? Well the game is still on! Just thinking about it makes me so wet. I need the best man to take my virginity so step it up boys!" 

The effect on the straight men as I read the message was obvious. Both had started to jack off while I'd been reading, and both were now harder than I'd ever seen them before. Their faces were also completely different. Before, when I'd served them, they'd at most expressed arousal at my attempts to get them off. Now they showed almost animalistic lust. They were straight alphas who had been teased with what they truly desired: pussy. I realised in that moment that I'd never truly be able to have or satisfy either of them. I was and always would be a mere means to an end for these straight studs. I'd never been harder in my life. 

Realising after today they would have no reason to let me serve them, I quickly came up with a way to get as much straight cock in the time I had left. "Whoever is currently fucking my face gets my phone until they cum. Then the other takes over until they cum. We repeat until my sister's deadline." 

Derek reacts faster than his rival. He plunges his cock into my waiting mouth, snatches my phone from my hands, and immediately begins texting my sister. I'm in heaven, sucking on the long, straight cock lodged in my throat. I bob my head up and down his cock, trying to make him feel as good as possible, but he hardly even grunts as I take him to his base, too engrossed in his conversation with my sister. 

Brad stands scowling at Derek's side. His fists clench; he too is engrossed in the text conversation, ignoring me completely. He starts muttering in Derek's ear, and at first I can't hear what he's saying, but Derek's grunts grow louder as Brad talks to him. I hear snippets of what Brad is saying; words like 'tight', 'pussy', and 'virgin'. I realise he's talking dirty about my sister to get Derek to cum faster. It works. Derek let out a moan of release, and my mouth was flooded with his sperm. I try to swallow as much as I can, but it's too much, and his seed spills out of my mouth. 

Before Derek can completely finish cuming or I can fully suck his cock clean, Brad yanks my head off of Derek's cock, shoves him out of the way, and rams his thick dick down my throat. He's grabbed my phone as well and is messaging my sister furiously, trying to catch up. I get to work sucking his cock, not caring about my rough treatment; I'm just glad I've got another straight cock to suck. 

Derek adopts Brad's tactics right away, whispering in his ear about what a slut my sister is and how good her pussy would feel. He also has his own tactics. Grabbing the back of my head, he holds me down on Brad's cock until I'm gagging on it. It sends Brad wild, and after the third time Derek holds my head down, my spasming throat and the latest message from my sister send him over the edge, and he dumps a load down my throat. 

They swap me back and forth for hours. The time they spend fucking my throat becomes longer and longer as their balls are drained more and more. All the while they text my sister, try to get the other off, and ignore me as much as possible, only interacting with me with their cocks or with a hand on my head as they direct me to suck their rival off faster.

Finally, it reaches midnight. Both Derek and Brad are spent. My sister says she'll count up the messages and let us know who the winner is tomorrow. They give me back my phone, and stumble off, arm in arm. Despite it all, it seems that competition has allowed them to bond. At least until they find out who's won. 

I sit there exhausted, covered in a mix of their cum, my throat raw and sour from being fucked for so long. I've cum multiple times in my pants during the hours I've been servicing them. I'm still hard as a rock, and as I reach to get myself off one last time, I receive another text from Ashley. "Hey bro, still counting up the messages. I'm excited to let the winner come over but I do like both guys and I'd want the loser to stick around. Maybe have some fun with him after. Could you take care of him? Let him know he still has a shot. Thanks bro x" 

I cum in my pants, envisioning how I'd take care of the loser while he waited for my sister. I text my sister back. "No problem sis. They'll do anything for you."

[666herescared]

Imaginary Shadow Dad)Ch.11: A Hero of Shadows

—☆—

  Notes: Welcome to the start of the stuff taking place within the canon time frame! I just want to really quickly thank you guys for all your comments and likes/kudos! This is so surreal, and I really can’t believe any of it! People like reading what I write, and pay enough attention to point out the details and references! I never expected this sort of thing to actually happen to me, so I just want to say, Thank you all so much! 

  Now, onto the story:

—☆—

  It was finally the day. Redson, mighty heir of the Demon Bull Family, was finally going to free his father! All the trials and tribulations, every single attempt to make something that would let him lift the impossibly heavy staff, it had all led to this!

  It was his magnum opus. This was going to be the day he made his family proud! He couldn’t have done it without his uncle’s assistance with earlier tests. Now it was finally time to set his father free.

  He pulled the staff from the mountain-

  And nothing happened.

  “What?! Why isn’t anything happening?” The young prince grit his teeth and hopped off the peak. “Mother, are you sure this is the right mountain?” the arrogant young boy asked his mother, Princess Iron Fan.

  She scoffed in offense. “No. Maybe it was that other mountain with a magical staff sealing away my husband!” the former maiden replied sarcastically, then the ground began to shake, causing both to look back toward the mountain, not noticing the young man above them stumbling and barely catching himself with a single hand.

  When the captured demonic king emerged, Mk panicked. “Uh oh.. Not good!” he whispered to himself, trying to figure out how to get back on top of the bars, when he once again noticed that bird. “Extra not good!”

  “Flesh? Bone? I have returned to the realm of the living.” the large purple bull claimed. Strangely enough, he didn’t seem to have his fur.

  “No! Shoo! Go away!” Mk tried to bat the bird away from him, but the bag of noodles in his otherwise free hand kept him from doing so. Pigsy would have his head if he dropped that, not to mention the demonic royals below him.

  “Oh! Demon Bull King, how I’ve missed you.” Princess Iron Fan said with a smile on her face.

  The demonic king in front of her grinned as he recognised his bride. “Princess Iron Fan? The years have been kind. How did you free me?”

  She was about to respond, when her son cut her off - “Actually, it was I, father. I moved the staff! I learned how to harness it! To make it’s power, m-” he paused as he saw his father’s looming form, then whimpered, “-o-our, power.”

  “Excellent..” the largest in the room stated in a pleased manner, causing his son to smile.

  The fiery haired demon grinned and held his accomplishment aloft for the world to see. “Now, together, we, the Demon Bull Family, will plunge the world into eternal darkness!” he exclaimed cheerfully.

  Mk’s eyes widened. Okay! Definitely not safe to just jump down and hope he survives the fall. What could he do?.. His magic flickered as though suggesting itself to him, but he shoved it down. No. that probably wouldn’t even wo- The FREAKING BIRD pecked at his hand until he fell causing enough panic that his tail and ears were briefly made clear for any to see, which caused Wukong to realize what he’d just done.

  That was Mihou’s kid. The one he had that shared dream with. A quick double check with his gold vision confirmed it. He knew he looked familiar..

  With a scream, some klutzy mortal fell on top of Redson, ruining his moment, and causing him to drop the staff.

  Mk groaned and rubbed his temples with one hand, then remembered where he was. Uh oh. Quick Mk! Come up with something! He chuckled nervously and lifted the bag up for them to see. “Uh~ Someone ordered some noodles?” That~ was awful.

  Growling, Redson threw the peasant off of himself. “GET OFF OF ME YOU IDIOT!!” He turned to look at the impudent mortal, already yelling about him ruining his moment, when he spotted the young man’s glowing purple eyes and the flickers of uncontrolled magic dancing along his form. It was… fascinating.

  Then DBK stepped between them growling much more threateningly and caused the mortal to flinch away. “A little eavesdropper has fallen into our midst? It seems a waste to crush something so insignificant as my first act as ruler of this new world, but, so be it.” He moved to destroy the inconsequential creature, not noticing the shadows churning protectively nearby, when his son stopped him.

  “Wait, father!” Redson requested, stopping the king in his tracks.

  “What is this?” the grown demon’s threatening voice bellowed.

  After clearing his throat and moving his father’s foot out of his way, the fiery haired demon began. “Waste not your energy on this, peasant. Please, allow me to show you how powerful I’ve become in your absence!”

  ..”As you wish..” the ruler stepped back to give his son a bit more room, then glanced at his wife, who smirked up at him briefly. Both recognized quickly what their son was actually planning, and they were fairly okay with it. After all, it’s not like the mortal even knows how Demon Bull courtship works. He’ll probably just see it as a fight, and that will still let them see the little thief wounded for his foolish actions.

  “Maybe I can use this chance to get away-” Mk was muttering to himself as he crawled away from the attractive fire demon, then froze when he began monologuing.

  “In some ways, you’re very fortunate, Noodle Boy.” the prince began, stalking towards his fleeing prey and barely noticing how Mk tripped over the staff in his panic.

  Mk couldn’t listen to Red’s monologue if he tried. He was too busy keeping his shadows in check. They were flickering around the staff his foot rested on. They were trying to form his ears. He heard the best he had since Shadow Dad left, and yet he also processed none of it. At least not until he heard the demonic prince get offended.

  “Ugh- Are you even listening?! I, Redson, will not be DISRESPECTED!” He moved to attack the mortal.

  Time seemed to slow down. The Little Monkey’s eyes filled with their glow, and the shadows seemed to grip his shoulders, softly, delicately, yet slightly dipping through the skin. “Ready, Xiao-Xiao?” he heard a near forgotten voice say.

  His magic gripped the staff, before he spun back to his feet and grabbed it with his hands, pose impeccable as Redson was knocked off his feet and back into the nearby wall with a deafening thud. “Yes, sifu..” the young adult muttered to the voice before his magic dispersed and he realized what had just happened. Oh shit- “SORRY! MUSCLE MEMORY! Wait- why am I apologizing? You’re evil. Uh- I mean- SORRY I DIDN’T HIT YOU HARDER!” ..Great save, Mk. 

  “What!? How is an insignificant fool lifting a staff that weighs more than even I can lift?” the Demon Bull King exclaimed in indignant disbelief. 

  Alright, Monkey Kid. You gotta think fast. You’re surrounded by demons, holding a staff that, by all accounts, you shouldn’t be able to lift, and you just pissed them off by knocking their son into a wall. Seems like it’s time for rule 5. It’s time to get out. “Uh- Yeah- Well. I totally know how to use this so- y-you should really just leave me alone, and let me go.”

  Princess Iron Fan struck him with a look that would terrify armies and claimed that, “That staff doesn’t belong to you, little boy.”

  Mk seemed a little intimidated but kept up the determination. “Yeah- Well, it doesn’t belong to you either! So just- just let me go!” Xiao Houzi tried to demand, though his nerves were getting the better of him as shadows flickered around his feet, seemingly agitated by something, but slowly settling with it. The Monkey Kid went to talk again when the staff extended toward the ground. What!- “OKAY! I DIDN’T EVEN MOVE THAT TIME!” he exclaimed in surprise before getting thrown off his feet into the elevator shaft.

  As Redson got his bearings, he noticed a few of the soft flickers of unstable magic left in the boy’s wake, and he ran over to examine it, running right past his parents in his hurry. With a careful hand, he gathered the flickers, which were soon bubbling with heavy smoke, falling down in waterfalls, as though two forms of magic were both trying to drown the other out. He showed his parents the concerning energy. “I have to talk with my uncle about this Noodle Boy. I have a feeling he’s more important than we think..”

—

  Redson placed a small basket of plums on the shrine and lit his incense, then waited for his uncle to appear. After a short moment, he sighed and calmly told the lightly stirring shadows, “I know you’re here. Come out! This is important!” A deep chuckling filled the room as the flames flickered, till the darkness pooled on the wall where a scroll of Liu’er was hung and a head cloaked in shadow peeked out with glowing purple eyes.

  “Jeez. What do you have against dramatic entrances?” the monkey demon asked, slipping the rest of the way out yet flinching when his tail crossed from the stasis of the shadows. He plucked one of the plums from the basket and held it to his mouth, pressing it through the darkness cloaking his form.

  Redson cringed. “Ugh. Do you have to do that in front of me? You always get juice everywhere,” the snooty prince claimed in annoyance as his uncle finished the plum and threw its pit to the side.

  “If you can’t handle a shadow demon eating, I don’t know how you’re supposed to handle a bloodsoaked battlefield, whether you’re winning or not.” Macaque stated, wiping his lips nonchalantly. “Anyways, I’m guessing you didn't just summon me for conversation.”

  “You know exactly why I summoned you. You were there, right?.. Y-You were there, right?!” The young demon’s anxiety was coming through. He really wanted his uncle to see when he managed to release his father!

  With a soft sigh, the shadow gave his nephew a reassuring pat on the head. “Of course I was there. Very impressive, by the way.” he praised, causing the young prince to light up. Not enough people gave him the sort of attention he deserved. “And, yes - I know why you summoned me. I don’t know where Wukong’s magic came from, but Xiao-Xiao - or as you call him, “the Noodle Boy” - absorbed a bit of power from my lantern, which I let him do, because I raised him for about five years. I was just getting too weak to keep protecting him, so I dropped him somewhere safe, and he kept the magic.”

  ..”Shit.” Red mumbled to himself. Great. He started crushing on his tangentially sworn cousin. Stupid. “A-and why is your magic fighting Sun Wukong’s? You know that two forms of magic fighting each other in a mortal’s body can make them very sick!”

  “It’s no worse than a common cold, and it’s not like I can help him! The magic he absorbed is his now! If I had to guess, I’d say the shadow magic just thinks Wukong’s magic is a danger to him, but it’ll probably mellow out within a week,” the older demon stated firmly. “Oh, and you suck at hiding it when you like someone.”

  “W-Well, let’s not jump the gun he-”

  “I mean, I married my sworn brother. It’s not like this is anything biological, so it’s not really incest, and if it keeps you from hurting him-”

  “SHUT UP! I do not like THE NOODLE BOY! I just met him, and while he’s a, ahem, pleasant sight, and powerful, he clearly has some sort of connection to Sun Wukong. Whether it’s considered incestuous or not, I would have to talk with a matchmaker before even considering beginning courtship!” the prince claimed loudly, crossing his arms and turning away with a blush. “A-Anyways, I'm sure you have certain… requests… for how we conduct our battles with your son?”

  Macaque nodded casually, then snapped his fingers to make the lighting a bit more dramatic, looming over the fire demon threateningly as he approached. “You’re right. And I’ll only say this once;” the shadow warrior began, pulling the shadows around the prince to keep him in place and leaning in close. “I don’t care that you’re family. If my son winds up in the hospital, I will make you forget what it’s like to see the sun.” 

  Red gulped nervously, then nodded rapidly, causing the shadow to look pleased and back off. “Then I have no issues here.” Macaque claimed, turning to leave, but pausing at the altar. “Oh. By the way…” He snapped his fingers, causing the shadows to slip from his face and revealing his dark fur, tan skin, and bright red markings. “It was nice to see you in person again.” he claimed with a wink, once again going to leave. He was stopped in his tracks by Redson, who squatted down to examine the wedding band crushed onto his poor tail, cutting off the blood flow. “Uh, Red? Wh-Why are you staring like that?”

  “What? Why do you THINK!?” He was appalled by the gall of his uncle seemingly finding his worry unprompted. “Get back in the shadows right now.”

  Macaque scoffed nervously and tried to tug his tail away. “C’mon, kid. It’ll work itself out.” he claimed, despite the wince he tried to hide at the pull of the ring on his flesh. 

  “Work itself off, maybe. Back in the shadows! I’m cutting it off.” Red demanded anxiously.

  “Isn’t that counter intuiti-” Mac started, trying to lighten the mood again, but he was quickly shot down.

  “We both know I mean the ring!” 

  With a deep sigh, Macaque slipped back into the shadows, bringing the plums with to drop off with the twins. “Alright. Sheesh..” It was nice to know the prince worries about him, but this was a little overboard. He was immortal, after all. That stupid king made sure of that.

  Redson walked quickly and nervously, a determined look in his eyes nearly dwarfed by the overwhelming worry. He made his way to his garage, quickly grabbing his tools and prompting Macaque to slip his tail out of the shadows, then delicately, carefully, beginning to cut through the beautiful golden band.

  It felt almost upsetting. As though cutting off the ring was indicative of him cutting off Wukong, and despite all those years, both monkeys still hadn’t gotten over each other. Oh well. No time to think about that when Red’s already cut through it and released his tail from the dangerously dented ring. He grabbed the gold and pocketed it faster than Red son could process, leaving the boy extremely confused. “What? I’m sentimental!”

  “..Alright then. I’m glad you cooperated. Now, I need to go tell my father about the change in plans. Are you going to come with me?” the prince questioned, taking off his welder’s mask and gloves.

  After a brief moment of consideration, Macaque stepped out of the shadows. “Sure thing Red. It’ll be nice to see your parents again anyway..” Not to mention a good distraction from the urge to kill Mk’s idol.

—

  Mk arrived back at the shop, extremely frazzled as he sprinted through the doors, magic wisps around his glowing eyes in his panic. After tripping over his own feet - he thought that’d stopped happening - he took a moment to sit down and calm himself, but he felt a little sick. His magic was bubbling as though boiling over in a pot, gold light filling the shadows and seeming to agitate it. Where’d he get gold magic from? 

  “Uh, kid? You okay?” Pigsy asked nervously as he poured another bowl of noodles for his husband, Tang smirking the whole time.

  The Little Monkey jerked in place, turning towards them with a little twitch. The purple glow in his eyes seemed to fight a golden one. “Uh- Uh- R-Right! OW-!” He was cut off by a sharp pain in his eyes as the glow settled down, the purple back in place in his irises, though the gold had filled his sclera. 

  Tang’s smirk fell to a glare as he realized something was hurting his baby, Pigsy reacting similarly though he hadn’t been smiling at any point during this conversation.  “WHAT HAPPENED?! Who hurt you? So help me, I will sue for all their money!” the scholar yelled to the universe as he stood from his chair, pissed that his Little Monkey was hurt.

  Pigsy shoved past his husband with a mildly annoyed expression at the empty promise he’d heard before, though worry dwarfed the thought of chewing out his husband. “Mk, seriously, are you okay?!” 

  “I- I think I’m okay, but that’s not important! I found The Monkey King’s Staff!” Mk claimed, displaying the weapon in his hands.

  Mei arrived just a moment later and smiled brightly at the sight. “Aww, Mk! You finally re-did the staff? Nice contacts, by the way.”

  Contacts? Bah! Whatever. The fate of the world is at stake! “No! I-It’s the real deal!” 

  Well, Tang could end this argument pretty easy, he just didn’t want to. He did relent rather quickly as he spotted the wisps around his son’s body, seeming more agitated, gold now overpowering the black. “Uh- L-Let me see, but I doubt you’d be able to lift it if it was real,” he offered, approaching and getting a grip on the end of the staff as he tried to look closer. “After all, Monkey King’s Staff is 17,550 pou-ounds!” Mk let go to let his Ba Ba look even closer, but the weight quickly dragged him to the ground. “Okay. Real deal.” Tang wheezed as he pulled his hands from under the heavy weight.

  “I’m sorry, Tangy, but you’re not a fair comparison here.” Pigsy claimed, walking over to the staff and trying to lift it, then the room heard a loud squeal and he fell over. “Ow- Oh!- My back!” he groaned, before Tang helped him sit back up and began trying to help soothe the aching.

  “You really need to stop straining yourself like that, Pigsy,” the scholar chastised hypocritically.

  Mei seemed almost excited by this. “Oo~ Hey, Mk! You wanna move that outside so I can try?” she asked cheerfully.

  “Sure thing, Jie Jie!” the Little Monkey replied, lifting the staff one handed with ease. It seemed almost like he was silently boasting.

  After placing it in a sufficiently open area, Mei changed from human form, to full dragon form - something Mk had only seen once for his birthday the year before - and she began to try and lift it. After about five minutes, Pigsy and Tang had joined and Mk was just telling Mei she clearly wasn’t able to lift it. About a minute after that, she managed to lift it just barely an inch off the ground, then had to return to human form so she could rest.

  Still panting from the exertion even that took, she glanced at Mk, who was now balancing the damn stick on one finger. “Wow. Way to be humble, Mk,” she griped with mild annoyance.

  Xiao Houzi threw it up into the air, then caught it, now with his whole hand. “I dunno, Mei. It does make me feel pretty strong to know I can out-lift a dragon,” Mk claimed, posing briefly, then remembering his urgency. “Uh- Now would probably be a good time to go find a way to return this to Monkey King though,”

  The dragon had pulled out her phone and had just found a concerning post when he said this. “Yeah, probably. After all, that staff was sealing away DBK,” she stated, showing her phone, which had a few images of Redson and DBK shoving through crowds at the shoe store. 

  “You paid attention to that?” Mk said in mild confusion. 

  “You told me that story at least five times. I’m gonna catch some details,” Mei claimed, putting her phone away. 

  Tang nodded and turned around, already walking towards the truck. Pigsy, Mei, and Mk followed closely behind, having to squeeze behind the adults’ seats. Of course, Xiao Houzi fit fine, though the staff was a little more finicky.

  Mei however, was struggling to fit. “How- How are you doing that, Mk? I need to shape-shift to fit in something this small,” she claimed, shifting to a smaller form to prove her point. “I mean, you can't be that small,”

  The Little Monkey wasn't sure how he did it, the only answer he had was, “Shadow Dad taught me,”

  “Okay, but what's the secret? Like, do you shapeshift? Are you just really flexible? C'mon, Monkey Man, I need to know!” Mei insisted, but only got a shrug this time. It seemed like her little brother really didn't know how to respond, so she sighed and just got comfortable for the rest of the ride.

—

  Sandy was resting on his boat sipping a cup of blueberry tea, surrounded by his adorable kitty cats, until Mk slammed through his door in a frenzy. “Sandy! Sandy! Sandy! Sandy Shu Shu! We need to cross the ocean and go to Flower Fruit Mountain right now to return this staff to the Monkey King or the Demon Bull King is gonna destroy the world!” He frantically briefed his Uncle/Therapist.

  “Okay!” the spirit replied simply.

  ..”Nothing fazes you, huh?” the young man mumbled as his family joined him on the boat.

  “As long as it helps you feel happy, I don't care if this is real or an overdramatic LARP. Mo! Start the launch sequence!” the big blue man called to his cat, who meowed before hopping over to the front of the boat.

  Mei was confused by that, though Mk had already sat down and was tightly gripping the arm rests. “Launch sequence?”

  “Yeah, you’re probably gonna wanna hold onto something.” Mk answered vaguely, nails digging into the seat like claws. Luckily, he’d sat in the cats’ chair, so it was already scratched up.

  “Uh, Wh-AGH!” Mei was thrown off her feet, colliding with the sofa she’d been standing in front of, which was also where Mk’s dads were sitting.

  Pigsy snorted at the odd, scrunched up pose the dragon had landed in, though Tang was too focused on the book he was reading to notice.

—

  The Monkey King (and Shadow Dad) stood on the edge of the boat in his butterfly form, watching Mk play with the staff cheerfully. He could spot it with his eyes. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but the boy seemed to have sprouted a second tail. Something twice as shocking though, was that the magic in his body had already calmed down quite a bit. It wasn’t calm enough for both to mix yet, but it seemed that the boy’s experience with out of control magic was able to keep the opposing magics from fighting for long. Which was a relief to Wukong. It meant he'd be able to keep his eyes from shooting a laser so strong it would blow up the whole city. *Ahem* Oh, look! They arrived. Or- Well.. Sorta. Right. Flaming mountains.

  “Wukong..”  The king was startled and looked around agitatedly. “Get back to the mountain. We need to TALK.” Yeah. Probably best to not piss off the disembodied voice of a dead lover. Sorry, bud. On your own for this one.

  “Welcome to the Flaming Mountains, gang! The volcanic ring surrounds Flower-Fruit Mountain, making it virtually impassable.” Sandy introduced, before pointing at a particular passage. “That path is the only safe way through, and this is as close as the boat can get- MK!”

  He interrupted himself when he saw Mk already climbing over the railing to start walking. “What?” the Little Monkey asked, having stopped when suddenly addressed.

  “You shouldn’t go alone. Let’s decide who’s gonna be going with you first.” the river spirit insisted, picking Mk off the railing with ease. 

  The young adult didn’t want to wait, but it wasn’t much use to argue with the big softy. He was a therapist, after all. He knew how to convince you of something. A few minutes too long later, Mk was finally walking through the path with Pigsy and Mei. Sandy and Tang stayed on the boat which… was honestly probably for the best. They weren’t really fighters.

  That didn’t stop Pigsy from griping about it though. “Stupid Sandy. Stupid Tang. Stayin’ cozy in their stupid boat. WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS, NOODLE GODS?!” What could (and did) stop him though was a massive geyser of lava.

  “Ooh! Careful, Piggy! Sheesh, you’d wonder why Monkey King decided to live here of all places.” Mei commented, before turning to address her brother and freezing at the sight of Princess Iron Fan lurking behind him. 

  Sadly, he didn’t seem to notice. “Y’know, when Monkey King had to get through the Flaming Mountains, he actually used Princess Iron Fan’s fan to- b-blow… away..” Okay, now he’d noticed.

  “Well, well, well! Aren’t you just a Monkey King fanboy?” the powerful woman commented, moving to attack, before her breath hitched and she remembered her promise. Why did Mihou have to be close to this brat? “I’m gonna suggest you hand the staff over now. Someone very close to me wants you alive, and I’d hate to break his heart.”

  Sadly for her, the thief was stubborn. “This belongs to the Monkey King. There’s no way I’m letting you take it,” Mk stated firmly, readying his stance with a glare sent her way.

  She gave a scoff, but found humor in the foolishness. “Oh, how sweet. The little Noodle Boy is playing at being a her-WOAH!” She barely dodged the sudden attack. The strange boy’s eyes were letting off sparks now. “Did I strike a nerve?” she asked tauntingly.

  Mk launched another attack, yet this one was caught, PIF having put on the gauntlet just in time. The Little Monkey still pivoted the staff to try and hit her again, but it wasn’t quite long enough and he didn’t know how to extend it. Instantly, he was launched away, down the path and towards the mountain.

  Mei was enraged, and wanted to fight for her friend - her brother - but the eruptions were picking up pace and if they stayed, they would’ve been boiled and fried. Pigsy managed to drag her with him to the boat without either of them getting hurt, but it didn’t feel like a success. They weren’t gonna let DBK win. Not now.

  It was time to get payback. All they could do now was hope Mk was fine.

  The Little Monkey awoke, covered in white furred young macaques, and had to struggle against them to sit up, though wouldn’t shoo them off as he didn’t want to scare them away. In front of him he saw the Flaming Mountains, and right behind was his destination. Flower Fruit Mountain.

  Meanwhile, at the peak, the moon was finally speaking to the sun once more. “M-Mihou.. You’re alive..” 

“No thanks to you.” and he was far from pleased.

—☆—

Hey, guys! Sorry about not writing the whole pilot equivalent in one go, but this is getting long and you guys have been waiting long enough. I hope you like it, and as always:

Have fun, and happy scrolling!

Prev- Chapter 10 and Next- Chapter 12

[water-writings]

!!!! what can you tell me about your two one piece ocs? thank you!

Oh man I have a lot for one and then not so much for the other.

One OC is named Hana. She started off as an OC for Pokemon Arceus where she was the healer for the Diamond Clan, but I've been throwing her around fandom to fandom. I didn't intend for her to be thrown into One Piece, but here we are, but I saw Law and somehow she just seemed to fit in pretty well with the world. Hana is a sweet girl who gets shy and flustered easily. Almost always stuttering and blushing. She's a mess. She came from a Winter Island where she lived with her mom, who ran an apothecary there. She learned about a lot of plants and flowers and all their healing properties from her mom. She keeps a log/journal of all the plants and flowers she has learned about. She keeps one pressed and glued into the pages with the information on the plant written all over the page. She knows how to make medicines or teas with them. She ran into Law and his crew when they were on her island. They visited the apothecary for some medical supplies and seeing Law, Hana was scared, but also developed a major crush on him. Some things happen while the crew is on the island that ends up with one of them needing medical attention. Hana and her mom help Law with that. Bepo suggests to Law that Hana joins the crew to help with the medicine supplies, saying it'd help Law out with any medical needs. Law reluctantly agrees and Hana sets off with them! Like I mentioned before Hana is a shy, flustered mess of a girl. So now that she's living on the Polar Tang with her crush she's stuttering almost every time she talks to him. I always pictured Penguin and Shachi being like big brothers to her and when they learn about her crush on Law, they start to tease her and come up with plans to get them together. It's chaos and Hana's almost always has pink or red on her face from blushing.

My other OC who I'm a little more invested in and thinking of writing a story for her name is Fiona. I didn't plan on making her, I was trying to focus on Maiko and my Tokyo Revengers. But my roommate who convinced me to get into the series told me I'd like Sabo she was right and somehow Fiona popped into my head even before Sabo even showed up in the show. She just developed and the name was a place holder originally, but it stuck. I tried so hard to not create an OC for this show!

Fiona comes from an Autumn island where she lived with her parents and younger brother and sister. Her parents ran a bakery on the island and from them she learned all their recipes and developed her love for baking. She dreamed of having her own family and bakery when she got older after seeing how her parents were together and how they were with her and her siblings. She loved it! She loved working in the bakery with her parents and playing with her siblings. She'd run deliveries around their town for her parents whenever she wasn't helping with baking.

When she was 14, a group of Marines settled on their island and made a base there. While on a delivery run, Fiona ran right into someone, a young Marine who turned out to be the captains son. She met Caldur, who immediately noticed her red face and how she apologized, which resulted in him teasing her. Fiona just left, giving him a glare in response to the teasing. After that Caldur would show up to the bakery, flirting and teasing with Fiona. She did find him cute and enjoyed the flirting, but she was stubborn and wasn't going to just give in. It kept going for a few weeks until finally Fiona agreed to one date with him. That date resulted in her and him dating for a couple years. Fiona actually falls in love with him over the years.

However, Caldur isn't great. He's more focused on impressing his dad and moving up in ranks, but he can't deny a cute girl having interest in him. He loves hearing the other Marines commenting on how lucky he is to have a cute girl as his girlfriend, it just boosts his ego. At some point over the time of them dating, Caldur finds the Claw Claw Fruit and gains its abilities. The power goes to his head and his hunger for power and control grows.

One day a pirate crew raids the island while Fiona is on a delivery run. She races back to the bakery and finds it on fire with her family trapped inside. She runs around looking for help when she finds Caldur and some of his Marine buddies. She begs Caldur to help her save her family and she's shocked when he refuses, saying his has his orders from the captain/his dad. Fiona keeps begging, saying how her family and him got along, how they like each other. Some of the Marines hesitate, suggesting that they go help, but Caldur tells them to shut up. Fiona tries again and Caldur uses his Claw Claw Fruit on her, slicing across her chest. He just looks at her and tells her "Know your place. Remember who I am to you" showing her that he never really cared for her as she did for him. Fiona just falls to the ground and bleeding out, people screaming and running around her as the town is burning.

When she wakes up the next day she's in the town's hospital and learns about her family's death. After that she eventually leaves her island and escapes from Caldur. After a couple years on her own she runs into some Revolutionary Army members as they're on a mission to take care of some Marines on whatever island she's on. She helps them as their trying to hide and eventually joins them. When she gets to headquarters that's where she meets Sabo. She runs into him just as she had with Caldur and once again, feeling embarrassed since she's new she's blushing and apologizing. Sabo makes a comment about her blushing which reminds her of Caldur and she immediately closes herself off from Sabo. She doesn't like him at all. Over time Sabo develops a crush on her and flirts and teases her which only makes Fiona not like him even more. He reminds her too much of Caldur and how they were at the start of their relationship. She refuses to fall in love and be hurt all over again, refusing to believe that Sabo's intentions are genuine and not the same as Caldur's.

I'm so sorry for the rambling! I got a little too carried away haha, but these are my One Piece OCs! I big shout out to @nightwingshero for helping me brainstorm and plot these girls out, especially for Fiona! Without her I wouldn't have been able to come up with half the things I have for Fiona, so thank you, Jo!

[acomputeryguy]

I Don’t like the “Yellow Guy is David, Lesley’s Son” theory. Here’s why...

To quote one of our favourites, I just think it’s really boring.

I was so looking forward to Film Theory’s take on C4′s DHMIS because I thought if anyone was going to blow that theory out of the water, it’d be him. Boy oh boy was I wrong.

Not only did he spend the majority of the video recapping the events of the last two episodes, he didn’t even mention the conversation Duck and Red Guy have whilst Yellow Guy ascends the stairs.

That is one of the main pieces of contradictory evidence to the Yellow Guy is Lesley’s Son theory in my opinion.

The significance of that conversation alongside Duck and Red Guy being the only ones in the Big and Bigger Boys’ rooms; it suggests they are aware of how things work whilst Yellow Guy is kept in a perpetual state of not-knowing... Until he is triggered enough to remember, re-discovers what he has already learnt several times before, then ends up unaware all over again. This is alluded to in his contribution to the episode 5 theme song. Notice Duck is the only one to obviously react to that. The camera focuses in on his reaction alone. I strongly believe that before the events of episode 5, Duck is the only one who has “ascended” to the upper floors.

Being serious for a second though, I get there’s no real meaning or grand plan behind this series and that it could be explained away as merely using the cyclical theme of children’s television as an element of horror, BUT, because I’m so bothered by the accepted theory that Yellow Guy is Lesley’s son and he died in a car crash that either she caused or was present for, and this is her recreating her kid “David” out of grief, here are my own thoughts on it all...

When you examine what Lesley actually does to Yellow Guy and the others, it’s just subjecting them to awful situations and “resetting” them back to normal at the end of the day. That’s not a desperate act of grief. That’s calculating and deliberate.

And if Yellow Guy is “David”, Lesley’s son, why are Duck and Red Guy there? Who are they? Who were they, before? You could make the argument they were David’s favourite characters from his favourite TV show, but then why is Lesley putting them through the ringer every episode? Why is Yellow Guy the one that suffers the most compared to Red Guy and Duck? What kind of mother would want to see her son terrified and upset all of the time, and then bring his favourite characters to life, just to have them bully and belittle him? And torture them in front of him too?

If Roy was her husband, and Yellow Guy’s dad, and Lesley viewed him as this abusive figure responsible for the death of her son, then why does she keep tormenting Yellow Guy with him? He’s used against Yellow Guy as a device to hurt and confuse him all of the time. It just doesn’t make any sense.

This theory also assumes Yellow Guy’s dream about Mullhoven was an event that actually happened instead of Lesley just... orchestrating a dream for him where this new town Red Guy wants to drive them to looks nice on the surface but is actually slightly off in ways, all in a bid to force him back to reality. Note: until Yellow Guy is startled awake and the car starts to break down, he and Duck were perfectly content escaping the house, because Red Guy had placated them so well that anything she could do to influence them ended up being ineffective.

As for the number plate - of course it has her name. She’s the one driving the events. Even the thing Red Guy thinks of as freedom is actually all under Lesley’s control.

The events of episode 5 feel more to me like Lesley was willing to indulge them in their “escape” since Red Guy was so determined about it, but then she had to teach him the hard way why trying to leave isn’t acceptable. She had to intervene when Red Guy sends Yellow Guy off to sleep to dream happily about their new house, and new town, with their new neighbours. They all had to be taught that there’s nothing better waiting for them outside because the Sat Nav didn’t manage to do the job for her. I mean its recommendations of where to go basically consist of a place with a famous dead horse and a place that “just shrivelled up”, but Red Guy wasn’t willing to accept that and kept pushing them forwards anyway. Since Lesley couldn’t deter them with her usual props, she had to “get creative” and mess with Yellow Guy to get things back on track.

Which, as an aside, is perhaps why he is “one of her favourites”. Because he is so easily manipulated. Her interactions with Yellow Guy later make one thing clear: she is very fond of him, but she can’t coddle him. She has to keep him on his toes. He has to dance to her tune, ultimately, because he’s a creation meant to entertain, and the main rule in all writing is that your characters are never allowed to be too happy so long as there’s a story happening on the page.

Moving on, after episode 5, Red Guy is suddenly very keen to maintain the status quo which was jarring to some people. They felt he changed too quickly, but if you view Transport as his “ascending” the stairs moment, where unlike Yellow Guy he can’t be easily fooled and manipulated back into forgetting everything, his sudden desire to do as he’s told makes perfect sense. Like Duck, he now knows the way this place works. And in that muffled conversation in episode 6, they are discussing the possibility of Yellow Guy learning what they know. Neither he nor Duck are comfortable with the idea of Yellow Guy being on their level.

Why?

Very probably because Yellow Guy with batteries might not be able to be placated. Had he learnt the truth of their reality and retained it, their entire world would have come crashing down. And then what is there? No nice friendly house with its pretty colours and sing-song lessons, but a grim, drab reality, which Red Guy has already taken them all to before.

If we view Lesley as a stand-in for a creative person - someone who makes things (writes, creates art, etc) - then the allegory becomes clear: DHMIS is her escape from reality. It’s what she can do, what she is good at, what she enjoys, but she also has to be a little twisted as that is what makes the art she is creating entertaining. She has to take these cute little characters, and clatter them violently around the dollhouse they live in. She is as trapped in that house as Red Guy, Yellow Guy, and Duck are, and if she’s not careful, they can take on a life of their own and find themselves outside of what she intends for them.

Very interesting actually that Transport is the episode where we get a direct comment about what happened to Wakey, Wakey, and the episode where Lesley’s creations try to run away from her.

My personal understanding is that Lesley, with her patchwork appearance and colourful clothes, is the embodiment of the three creative minds behind the show: Sloan, Pelling, and Terry. We have three main characters too, it’s worth pointing out. They do say three is a magic number in writing...

Anyway, after episode 5, Red Guy learns what Yellow Guy almost learnt. He and Duck have “ascended” - they are completely self-aware about where they are, what their purpose is, and what they have to do to keep the days ticking over, even if the content of past lessons/episodes becomes vague to them over time. 

Their one job now is to keep Yellow Guy innocent of it all.

I mean I personally find that to be a far more interesting situation than this is all the work of a grieving mother who likes to torture her dead kid for some inexplicable reason. That theory, to me, does away with the actual horror of DHMIS: that our trio are trapped and can never escape, are utterly beholden to somebody else’s whims whether they are aware of it or not, and are doomed to an eternity of torment for the sake of entertainment. As are all fictional characters...

So, yeah. Yellow Guy is Lesley’s child, but the kind of child any fictional character is to the mind that created them. You love them, but you unfortunately have to hurt them. For the good of the story, to entertain, and as Lesley says herself, sometimes just because it’s funny.

Disclaimer: This isn’t to say he can’t be David, of course, and that he’s not actually dead. I think there’s a lot of compelling evidence that he may be the David that is mentioned and that he, like Red Guy and Duck, have “died” in some way before ending up where they are. I just personally don’t like the assumption Yellow Guy was/is Lesley’s actual, real-born son who died in a car crash, and this is her attempt to recreate him.

[msfbgraves]

In 2020 I went onto several Konmari sprees, knowing that I wanted to move cities. Which would make you think I had nothing to tidy left, especially since I have bought very little since.

But spaces aren't the same. What looks fantastic in one space, doesn't have much of a function in another. What is needed in one space may be detrimental in another.

I also had not dealt with a lot of sentimental items from my father's life. He'd barely been dead a few months to a year, I couldn't bear to part with any of it. You don't bring your Dad to Goodwill!

Also, I have some sweet family members, and they love to bring me stuff. And some of it is so heartfelt that you'd be a monster to refuse, even if the item is neither asked for nor strictly wanted.

I have noticed since that gifts that fit into your life become simply 'yours'. You forget, every time you handle it, where you got it from, or more likely in my case, who.

But if you vividly remember, every time you handle it, who gave it...

That isn't good.

But part with those?!

Konmari doesn't have a definitive answer to the pain of discarding. Marie seems maybe a little too good at it to feel the pain. She has very good suggestions:

Handle gifts as soon as you get them, who knows how they may yet make you feel?

Don't tell your family you're busy pruning anything. They won't ask for stuff they gave (or frankly offloaded at times) but they will stop you from donating it.

Don't you offload anything on them on principle. (I still feel you may offer but have to accept a hard no.) No sentimental gifts you can't bear to really discard. (I still feel you may offer, but, generally, best leave them out of it.)

Thank the item you're letting go.

All that said: it's excruciating. It's scary. It is 'but what if, for goodness sake, what if this happened and I have to feel guilty for having thrown out something good?'

It's guilty. It's just unpleasant OK. You're done and holding a pile of sadness.

Well throw the sadness out of the house.

Instant relief.

And the stuff you keep - gifts included - start to become more prominent. More ready and happy to be handled. Easier to care for.

I don't think, in my grief, I could have handled the barrage of fear and memories this stirs. A focus on keeping is the best way to go about it, but it is hard to admit to yourself that this item doesn't belong to you and you should not have bought or kept it in your life. All the old dreams it represents. The feeling of ungratefulness (so thank the item for what it taught you).

But once you have taken it out of your life, what you keep begins to sing. Which is what she likes to emphasise.

Still, it isn't easy. It takes guts and having your own back.

If it were easy, people wouldn't be so compelled to give their unwanted things to a loved one.

So another can deal with the guilt.

But you can. And if you do, your life becomes more beautiful.

[expfcultragreen]

I dreamed my gf brought me to a morgue run by some silly guy she knew, i guess because she wanted to eat parts of the corpses, but when we got there all these formaldehyde mummies jumped up and attacked her. I took off like a shot, full bat out of hell. Did not even think of sticking around. They chased me but were far behind. I made it thru and out of the building, and outside it was brentwood elementary at night. I crossed paths with a librarian who was also on the run from the zombies. Later tho like the next day i saw my gf standing in a doorway and ran over to her, she had all these super huge tumorous growths where she'd been bitten but she seemed otherwise fine. It turned out tho that she had amnesia going back to before she came out so she thought she was a 20 year old guy and i was like...."do you still want to be married to me?" and she was like sure/of course, and held my hand, and i was so happy she was alive.

Later i dreamed that i was staying with nix in one of those victorian style townhouse punkhouses i often dream about. Various things i dont remember happened, we were in and out of bars/dead malls below the city....some guy from the community decided to do a kind of townhall event on punk masculinity and wanted me involved. So i went but while i was there my ex bf from hs had the mic and gave this impassioned multimedia presentation about how masculinity is about scratching your balls, then he brought out this tiny hologram man projected by a weird old m*a*s*h* fanseries novel, and he ranted about how china had to colonize africa because economic exploitation is how you prove youre a man or something. So then i was screaming at my ex about how finding one or more poc who've internalize white supremacist ideology doesnt make your perspective woke, and how masculinity is a concept that doesnt actually conflate neatly with cissexist codas of maleness.

Later i was taking off a tshirt from that event, somewhere that was an amalgam of places my parents have lived. I was wearing several other shirts under it but couldnt see what was on them. They were all sort of stuck together. Suddenly my dad was in the room doing something on a ladder, like i just hadnt noticed him before while i struggled with the shirt. He said something nasty and suggestive about giving me something long and hard so i said i hoped he didnt fall off the ladder, sarcastically and he changed the topic to "future lobbyists" hanging mildew traps in their townhouse windows and him having to go and take them all down. I was like, youre admitting the people youre griefing are "future lobbyists"? There was this trend of hanging small canvases of abstract colormashes from strings in ones window but the roofs all leaked and the strings would collect moisture and the canvases DID all have mildew but having them wasnt illegal and presumably having some dude show up and insist that the problem was you being too lazy to do it yourself and that he's there to perform a public service...was kind of not looked kindly upon. But i quickly moved on to trying to gather the things i needed to leave and get the bus for uni. I kept juggling phones etc, throwing pens into pockets bla bla. Then i was walking in brentwood on an overcast day and i was like wtf i dont remember walking here, i must have been fully dissociated the whole walk. Then i ran across the street to a bus stop. I waa thinking hard about whether i could put half my fare on my inactive student card and pay half in change, or, if that didnt work (why WOULD it) then basically crying to the bus driver about being confused. Then i woke up.

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers and Side Characters Go on a Road Trip!

So, Diavolo, Lord of the Devildom, wants to go on a road trip for reasons unknown. You know what? Screw it, the reason is because Dia wants to do a fun human thing because MC brought it up during tea time. No one can defy the king, so TIME FOR A ROAD TRIP!

Shut Up! HE DOESN’T NEED DIRECTIONS! (Lucifer)

He was going to turn that car around. That’s it, he was going to leave. Someone else drive.

I hope your MC likes staticky traffic updates because that’s what Lucifer constantly had on the radio.

Obviously, some of the brothers complained, so Lucifer put on Beethoven’s Symphony no. 9. HELL YEAH TURN IT UP DJ!

Lol JK no one can car-dance to classical music. Just go back to the staticky traffic updates…

Lucifer would have preferred it if MC or Barbatos were riding shotgun next to him, but Diavolo ended up getting it. Dia is constantly asking Lucifer to stop so he can take pictures of the most mundane shit.

Lucifer stopped stopping after the first fifteen requests.

“I’m not stopping at McDonalds- hang on. Hi McDonald’s employee, one black coffee please.”

In true father fashion, Lucifer got lost and REFUSED to ask for directions. They were lost for five hours before Diavolo finally asked:

“Lucifer, you can turn on the GPS right?”

“Yes, but I don’t trust it.”

Everyone screamed in frustration and were all fully prepared to abandon Lucifer at the side of the road.

Please… can someone else drive? Anyone else…

Are We There Yeeeet..? (Mammon)

Okay, so, Mammon was one of two ways on that road trip. One: complete ADHD daydream zoned out. Or type Two: AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRREEEEE WEEEEEEEE THEEEEEEEEERRRRRREEEE YEEEEEEET???!

He wanted to stop and go to all the tourist traps, by the end of the road trip Mammon wanted to open his own.

The Avatar of Greed loves driving, problem is, he’s used to driving off into the sunset as a lone bachelor, not with his friends and brothers in the car as well.

He only got to drive once, and it was awful. 0/10 would not recommend. Luke thought MC was driving and called shotgun…

Mammon just turns on the radio for music and hopes something good is on at least ONE channel.

STOP WEAVING BETWEEN LANES YOU MORON-

Not all of Mammon’s time driving was bad, the combined powers of Luke and Mammon meant that everyone stopped at a petting zoo at the side of the road. Everyone had a good time, even though when they got back into the car they all smelled like a farm.

Did anyone else hear that oinking in the car-

*Vibes to Music in the Backseat* (Levi)

After being cruelly dragged from his room and placed in this stupid van… he just climbed into the backseat and put on his headphones.

Maybe anime openings could drown out this problem…

Levi only drove for fifteen minutes, it was the most terrifying fifteen minutes of everyone’s lives.

Mario Kart is not a substitute for proper driving school!

Listen- Levi actually saved the entire trip, after stopping at a gas station everyone noticed that Levi never complained about what was on the radio because he was wearing headphones, so everyone bought their own pair and the car trip was so much more pleasant…

No matter how many times Lucifer told Levi to get his feet off the seat, he wouldn’t listen, he was GAMING and they took him away from his gaming chair! HE NEEDED TO SCRUNCH HIMSELF UP LIKE A GOBLIN TO FOCUS DAMMIT!

Whenever the car would stop so everyone could get out and take a picture or look at something, Levi had to be practically dragged out of the car and manually posed for the pictures.

“Is this one of those vans with TVs in them? I brought the first five volumes of TSL on DVD!”

While Satan was driving they stopped at a lake, and Levi burst out of the car and made friends with all the lake fish.

He was still soaking wet when they had to leave.

I’m a Responsible Driver- IS THAT AN OLD BOOKSTORE?! (Satan)

Satan, we believed in you…

Our favourite nerd wanted to stop at any and all historical spots or cool looking bookstores he saw.

When everyone went to buy headphones, he got a pair with cat-ears on them! Because obviously!

Satan’s a responsible driver, and he’s not as prone to road rage as one might think. He has patience, remember in the Jobs event when he worked in customer service? Those kinds of jobs take a godlike amount of self control to do.

Asmo called shotgun and Satan got to have the wonderful experience of having his ear chatted off by his dear brother.

Satan was not about to have fast food for the eighth time in four days, if everyone wanted food, he’d stop at a restaurant.

He was terribly sorry to anyone who needed to use the restroom, but they should have gone at the last rest stop.

When Satan stopped at the lake, he gave everyone a long lecture on the historical significance of the place, then noticed that Levi was being crowned king of the lake and decided he should cut his history lesson short before Levi abandoned his family to chill with the fish forever.

I wanted Satan to be the normal chill one with the radio… I really did… but deep in my subconscious I feel like Satan would put on one of those language learning DVDs so he can learn another language on the go like a total dork.

Road Rage (Asmodeus)

No one saw this coming but- Asmo gets some B A D road rage. Someone cuts him off? “Hi hello dear, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SHOVE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS?!” Someone doesn’t use a turn signal? “YOU BRAIN DEAD MORON! LEARN TO DRIVE!” Someone just pisses him off? “*prolonged horn sound*”

It’s just… the car trip was so taxing on the poor Avatar of Lust… he was crammed into the middle seat for the majority of the trip… he had to give his sleeping mask to Belphie… Beel was getting crumbs all over him and he couldn’t move over… just so tragic…

Solomon called shotgun and it was the greatest couple of hours of his life. He got a front row seat to Lucifer and Barbatos dragging Asmo back into the car because he tried to pick a fight with another driver.

Asmo wasn’t having a good time…

He didn’t want to stop for any gas station food or go through a drive-thru so it was another expensive restaurant trip. Rest In Peace to the gang’s wallets.

When he wasn’t driving, Asmo was loudly talking with MC or talking on the phone. It was a blessing in disguise when they went through an area with bad phone reception and Asmo finally had to shut up.

Oh well… at least he got a few nice pictures for Devilgram.

MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! (Beel)

We all know Beel is massive, right? His head is touching the ceiling and every speed-bump hurt.

He’s the one begging to stop at every gas station or fast food place they pass by.

Beel’s section in the car was covered in empty bags of Doritos by the end of the trip.

When Beel got to drive, Belphie got shotgun! Hell yeah dream team!

Poor Beel, he got distracted and ended up somehow popping a tire. He pulled over next to a farm, changed the tire, then got back in the car and kept driving.

Uh… there was an awful lack of snoring next to Beel- OH FUCK THEY LEFT BELPHIE!

Belphie was found sleeping next to the cows on the farm they had stopped at earlier.

The cows didn’t want to give their sleepy god up so easily…

After that… Beel didn’t want to drive anymore…

“Look, cows.” (Belphie)

I really need to stop with the cow jokes but I CAN’T

*snore*

Belphie’s crammed between Beel and MC for most of the trip and is probably drooling all over poor MC’s lap or shoulder.

Beware, he jolts up randomly and looks around in a panic before he realizes he’s in a car. This happens every three hours.

Belphie’s not allowed to drive, he’d fall asleep. But when Lucifer takes the wheel and puts on that fucking staticky radio, Belphie forms an idea.

“*ahem* four thousand bottles of beer on the wall, four thousand bottles of beer,”

Mission success, Lucifer wanted to tear his hair out.

Belphie ended up asking to stop when they get to a stretch of road with no streetlights, everyone got out of the and stared at the stars.

…listen, it’s a miracle no one got axe murdered but the stars were gorgeous.

Remember when I said Satan put on those language learning DVDs? Yeah uh…. Belphie woke up from his last nap of the trip almost fully fluent in Spanish. At least one person gained a new skill on this trip…

Oooo, Look at Thaaaaat! (Diavolo)

Even though the side characters were in a different car most of the time, sometimes people would switch to the other car if they met up at a gas station.

By the end of the road trip Dia looked like one of those tourist dads, Hawaiian shirt and all.

Dia can’t drive

He’s absorbing human culture… and human culture involves ordering everything at this random Wendy’s.

Diavolo’s camera roll is so unbelievably full by the end of the trip and he refuses to delete ANY of the pictures.

Most of the pictures are of really weird and boring stuff, like traffic signs and trees, but the picture he ends up printing out and putting in a picture frame is a picture of the whole group at the petting zoo having a grand old time.

He wanted to take home a baby goat but Barbatos said that wasn’t a good idea :(

Help. (Barbatos)

So, it could have been worse for Barbatos, he could have been stuck in the car with the brothers and MC.

Dia always had the seat up front, but when he left the car to go hang out with the dude-squad, Solomon got the passenger seat.

Solomon decided it would be a good idea to pester Barbatos to go faster and take weird shortcuts through (probably not legal) backroads and creepy forest paths.

Good thing Barbatos, Luke, and Simeon had functioning brain cells and knew that’s how horror movies began.

Barbatos stopped for fast food once and only once. It’s not healthy!

He’s the only driver to take suggestions for music, meaning that the side characters’ car was the best one of the two.

“SOMEONE GET THE BARF BAG!”(Simeon)

He’s just… he’s just trying his best not to vomit…

Simeon thought the car would be a good place to get some writing done while they drove down long stretches of road. Simeon was wrong in that assumption.

With his head down way too much while the car zoomed down the highway, Simeon felt himself getting *very* sick about four hours in.

He was worried he may have accidentally eaten something of Solomon’s… but nope. The angel was carsick.

Luke had the important job of patting Simeon on the back as he leaned over the barf-bag while Solomon dry heaved up front.

Hurry and open the windows before Solomon barfs too!!!!

Other than the car sickness, he had the job of making sure Luke was entertained, there was a good hour of eye-spy until they just got to a stretch of forest.

After that, Simeon realized that he could just give Luke free permission to ramble about whatever he wanted and that would keep the little guy entertained for HOURS.

What do You Mean I Can’t Legally Make This Turn?! (Solomon)

Shifty bastard can drive, problem is, he doesn’t care about the laws of the road.

He ended up getting pulled over after breaking approximately 11 traffic laws in less than ten minutes.

“License and registration.” “Yeah yeah yeah…” “…sir, this license expired in 1989.” “…shit.”

Solomon gunned it and managed to use his magic to hide the car and evade the very confused traffic cop.

Luke was completely aghast at the flagrant law breaking, but Solomon’s excuse was that the 80s were a lawless wasteland and he completely forgot he legally had to update his license.

He’s an equally obnoxious passenger as he is driver, but at least no one in the car is bored.

“You know, back in the day cars didn’t have seatbelts.” “Solomon put your seatbelt back on.”

…Can we keep it? (Luke)

He was against this from the start. A road trip? With those nasty demons? No! Never!

Okay fine… maybe he wanted to see some more of the human world… he agreed to go.

After helping Simeon through his car sickness, he misheard the other car say that MC would be driving, and Luke wanted to hang out with his third parent 🥺

That’s how he ended up riding shotgun next to Mammon. It started out rough, but when the two spotted the petting zoo it was all sunshine and rainbows.

Luke made friends with all the animals! He was like a little Disney Prince. He got especially attached to this one piglet, it was a surprise to Simeon that the goodbye wasn’t tearful.

Luke smuggled that piglet out of the petting zoo and they were all over fifty miles away before anyone noticed.

Of course, everyone was just shocked that Luke had stolen something, but he looked so cute holding the little piggy… awwww…

The bros obviously joked that Luke had gone to the dark side and was totally evil because he had taken the pig, much to the poor kid’s dismay.

Simeon tried to convince Luke that he needed to return the piglet but Luke was adamant that he could totally take good care of it.

Welp, time for Lucifer to fix this.

“Luke, you need to go put the pig back, it’s not yours.”

“No! I’ll take good care of it!”

“That doesn’t matter, you stole it. It’s not your property, do you want to end up a scummy thief like Mammon?”

“No not at all. Let’s go return the pig.”

“THAT’S ALL IT TOOK?!”

[mountswhore]

hey! see u were taking requests so i wanted one with mason related to "london boy" by taylor swift? maybe reader is a singer or something like that?

one of the best taylor swift songs imo, so of course!

𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 — mason mount

summary: mason shows you around london during your break, and now you don't think you can ever go back

notes: requests are open again! my asks are open.

Leaving your hometown in New York to visit the world was one of the hardest things you had to do. But you had your dream job, now it was time to follow it. Your recent album was a success, pouring your heart into it as you recovered from your breakup. Your fans had watched your relationship build, and then break apart. Hearing your side of things through 14 songs. Awards, interviews, and traction had come from it, earning you a world tour. It was a scary thing to do, considering it was your first international tour.

“I just want to come back to New York already, I’ve not been on this tour long.” You complained to your sister, curled up in a hotel bed in London. Your first destination was the UK, and there was nothing worse than being homesick.

“Quit being a baby, the UK is so nice.” Your sister replied, chuckling shortly afterwards. “Me and dad visited Manchester, I think? Very nice looking, at least where we stayed.” You sighed, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You loved your cosy apartment in New York, you were even starting to miss the constant traffic sounds and arguing in the early hours of the morning.

“I guess, and I know London is nice, at least. I think I’m gonna interact with some fans,” you decided, pulling the duvet further up your body, “speak tomorrow at sound check.” You ended the call, liking some tweets and replying to a few things, eventually tweeting something of your own.

“Happy to see a lot of my UK fans tomorrow, can’t wait to scream my feelings out with you,” Declan read out, giving Mason a cheeky look. The pair of them were in Mason’s living room, enjoying their evening of FIFA. The boys had spoken about you plenty of times, in interviews too, Mason declaring you as his celebrity crush.

“Shut up already, she probably doesn’t even know who I am.” Mason stated, resting his arm over his eyes to conceal the blush on his face. Him, Declan and a few other boys were going to your concert tomorrow night, some of the WAGs suggested it as they loved your music.

“You think she’s not going to notice a blue tick in her dm’s? It’s worth a shot.” Declan encouraged his friend to shoot his shot, close to grabbing his phone and doing it himself, but instead he was watching Mason bashfully scroll through your twitter replies. “Do it, or I will.”

Mason sighed, clicking the reply button and typing out a reply, handing the phone to Declan to review. ‘Can’t wait, wanna see you.’

“Perfect,” Declan mumbled, pressing the reply button for him. He knew Mason never would, he just saved him 20 minutes of back and forth debate. Handing Mason his phone back, Declan smirked as he watched his friend's face change from fairly embarrassed, to shocked.

“There’s no fucking way you sent that.” Mason remarked, refreshing his phone to see his tweet attract likes. “You dick.”

Declan just laughed as Mason had turned completely red, watching the likes and replies collect under his tweet. Moments later, you’d appeared in his dm’s.

‘I recognise you.’

It was an ominous message from you, one that had you pacing and replaying the creepy message over and over again. But Mason smiled at the message, all ounces of worry leaving his body as he replied to you.

‘Oh yeah? From where?’

‘Actually, I think I recognise your teammate, Pulisic. He’s all my brother talks about sometimes. But all I know is that he plays for a soccer team.’

He laughed at your reply, Declan watching over in pure disbelief.

‘You have a lot to learn about the UK, and luckily I know all about it.’

‘I’ll hold you to that, come backstage after the show, bring whoever you’re with. I’m in London for the next few days before my next show, maybe you can show me around.’

“There’s no way you’re flirting with Y/N Y/L/N within two minutes of replying to her tweet.” Declan stated, Mason smirking at his best friend before sending another reply.

‘Bet.'

Your show was now over and you were anxiously waiting for the boys to be escorted back stage. You didn't know much about football, especially over here, but you knew the boys that were coming back stage were professionals. You'd learnt their names, Declan, Jack, and Mason. Jack and Declan brought their girlfriends along, but Mason was 'painfully single', as he put it.

Finally, as you sat down in your chair to relax, you heard a knock at the door. It was them. They had all filed in, the two girls in shock that they were meeting you. You'd given them all a hug, and gotten to Mason. He looked down at you as you pulled him in, squeezing you tightly before letting you go again.

"Did you guys enjoy it?" You asked, ushering them to the couch for them to sit down. You wanted them to feel as comfortable as possible, rushing over to your dressing room fridge and pulling out some drinks.

"It was amazing," Sasha gawked, still in awe over seeing you for the first time, "we saw you have one in Birmingham in a few weeks, so we're going to that one too." You blushed, returning to your seat opposite the couch.

"That's so sweet! I'm sure I can get you some good tickets, I'll dm you on Instagram or something." You suggested to her, Sasha eagerly nodding her head. You conversed with the group of five, Mason giving you a particular look that you had mirrored back to him. You planned on getting his number, and making sure he showed you around London.

Soon enough, the group was heading back to wherever they were staying, as it was beginning to get quite late. "Thank you guys for coming, and I'm so glad I met you."

Mason stayed behind, folding his arms and sharing a smirk with you as his friends voices trailed down the hallway. "So, about this bet."

"Yeah," you replied casually, grabbing your water bottle from the table and taking a sip, being in the presence of an attractive man again was giving you quite the nerves, "I'll take your number, because I'd love to get to know London." He nodded, grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.

"Perfect. See you."

You and Mason had planned your first meeting in a pub. It wasn't the classiest of places, but your plan was to get to know the UK. Mason had ordered you both a drink, guessing what you like and nailing it when you went in for a second sip and shoved a thumb up.

"So," he began, fiddling with the coaster his beer sat on, "how long are you in London for?"

"Just until Thursday, Friday morning I'm heading to Manchester." You stated, realising you only had four days with Mason, including today.

"Well, we better make the days count then." Mason declared. The pair of you spoke about his career as well as yours, talking about how different school was for the pair of you. Mason had stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, and you'd accepted it without complaint. He led you out of the pub and through the town center, gazing at the stalls set up around you. The weather wasn't so different to New York, both constantly dreary, but you were liking London so far.

On your second day together, you'd taken a cab to another town, this time to just experience the busy streets. To Mason, this was normal. For you, it was only familiar. New York was one of the busiest cities in the world, but London was different, better in every other way. You'd finished your day together, stomachs full of pub food, and in the back of a cab, rain pattering on the windows. You'd shuffled closer to Mason, placing your hand on his and squeezing. He looked at you briefly, smiling his usual smile, before quickly looking out at the street in an effort to hide his tinged cheeks.

Day three, the weather was too bad to do anything. But Mason kept you company in your hotel room. He'd taught you a bunch of British slang, laughing as your accent completely butchered them all. You'd shown him a snippet of your new song before room service had arrived. And the night ended with the pair of you collapsed in your bed, tv playing in the back ground, but your eyes on each other. It was like pure magic, the long-awaited feeling of his lips on yours. You'd been thinking about it all day, missing every opportunity until now.

Your final day was the worst. You both knew it was coming, you wouldn't see him until you had a break, and he had one too. You both had stupidly busy schedules, as well as living in different countries. Maybe one day you could bring him to New York, show him your side of life. And maybe one day you'll branch out and move here.

Mason had helped you carry your things out of your hotel room, which was taking you to Manchester. Your manager had texted you to be in the car before 3, which meant you had just 10 minutes until you had to say goodbye to Mason for a while.

You were stood in the foyer of the hotel, waiting for the car to arrive. You'd secretly hoped it didn't, you wanted to stay with Mason for a while longer, but you couldn't. Duty called.

"Thank you for showing me around London," you spoke, looking up at Mason, who was hiding his deflated feelings, "I really enjoyed it, I might even prefer it to New York."

"That's a given. I'm here." He joked, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. These four days had been immense fun for him, different to how he usually spent his days. Different than night at home alone, different than a night on the town. Was it too soon to say he missed you?

Mason looked down at you as you clung to his side, hoping he felt the same way you did. And he did, you just didn’t know that. His fingers slid across your jaw slowly, pulling your chin up to look at him. It was an intense moment, so many different emotions. He’d leaned in and kissed you, it was his parting gift. To say that he’d see you soon enough.

“Enjoy Manchester, I’m sure I can fit another show in somehow.” Mason spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You spoke, the car pulling up outside. He’d dragged your suitcases out to the car, popping them in the boot for you. Finally, he stared at you through the window, which you quickly rolled down. “I fancy you, is that the right term?”

Mason laughed, head tipping back slightly. “Yeah, it is. And I fancy you too.”

[maybege]

Work Song

Summary: You meet once again.

Pairing: hot dad!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.2k

Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub relationship, use of sex toys, dirty talk, consensual degradation and namecalling, multiple orgasms, double penetration, oral sex (m receiving), come play, sexting

When I was pondering which to post (bodyguard!Paz ord hot dad!Boba), I figured: why not both? So tonight I am serving you some delicious hot dad!Boba smut and tomorrow or Tuesday evening you will get the next part of The One! I am really excited to share this with you and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy it!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Work was boring.

Or rather, it wasn’t boring but your thoughts kept drifting to much more exciting prospects. Like the next meeting at the motel.

Boba had messaged you that he had gotten scheduled for the midnight calls almost all through the next month and had suggested you meet on Fridays instead. But since Fridays were your yoga course days, and the only real opportunity for you to go out and meet new people and potential friends, that was not an option either. And so, you had remained on Saturdays - even if it meant he wouldn’t get to stay the night.

Even over the phone, you could see the reluctance he had to agree to it. (“I’d prefer if I could buy you breakfast the way I buy you dinner,” had been his exact words to which you had only smiled.)

So now it was Thursday, almost the end of the week, and you could not wait to get back home, to get to the end of the week and into the motel and, most importantly, to Boba.

With a groan, you let your head onto your desk in your cubicle. All around you, you could hear the tapping of the keyboards, people talking, phones ringing, the alarm of the printer going off when there was – once again – not enough paper there. Even sitting at your desk among a sea of people you never felt so alone.

“What are you thinking?” Nat, chewing a piece of gum, popped up on the wall of your cubicle, resting her chin in her hands. You flinched in surprise, looking up at her cheerful face. “Dreaming of mystery man from the bar again?”

If only she knew.

You smiled, “I, uh, I was just checking over these numbers again, I think I might have to start from scratch and ask marketing for the raw numbers.”

Nat popped her gum, clearly disappointed that you did not seem to share any details. “Well, Marketing really needs to get their shit together,” she grumbled, “I had to ask them for the full numbers – twice! – last week. can you believe that? Twice!”

“Now that I have them in front of me, it’s not that hard to believe,” you grinned, leaning back in your chair and looking up at her, “But that is not why you came to talk is it?”

“Well,” she sighed dramatically, sending you a wink, “Since you don’t let me live through your love life – you want to come for drinks this Saturday? Me and the girls want to check out a new restaurant in town, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“I’d love to but I already have plans,” you declined, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of whom you had plans with, “Maybe next time?”

For a minute, you were afraid that maybe she would be suspicious. That maybe she would keep asking you about Boba and you would have to dodge your questions.

But thankfully, Nat seemed to have completely forgotten all about your love life.

“Sure!” she perked up, throwing a look towards the kitchen, “Wanna do lunch together? I’m starving.”

You nodded, smiling when you heard her basically skipping her way to the kitchen from her cubicle. Grabbing your phone, you went to follow her.

*

Nat kept talking about one thing or another, completely oblivious to the internal fight you were just hashing out in your head.

Never had your phone looked more menacing.

You did not know when or how exactly but somewhere in the two minutes it had taken to microwave your food, a tiny little thought had manifested itself in your mind.

Boba had asked for your wishes the last time and you had been too nervous to think about them. But surely, with the safety of a screen between you, you would be able to articulate at least some of them?

Then again, would he even want that? After all, it was not Saturday and maybe he did not want to have that kind of contact out of your agreed meeting hours?

You tapped your fingernails on the table top before deciding to just fuck it.

You: I want you to fuck my mouth.

There. It was sent. It was done. You had half a mind to switch your phone off and never look at it again, you felt that embarrassed. But before you could do so you saw how the read notification popped up and now it was like a car crash you couldn’t look away from. Boba had seen it. It was too late now. Shit, what had you done?

Boba: So princess has some dirty wishes after all.

Boba: Any more things you want to try out?

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head towards Nat who looked at you questioningly. “My friend just sent me something funny,” you waved off while making sure no one would be able to get a look on your phone screen.

Toys. you typed out, I’ve never got to try any and I want to try them all. Want you to use them on me.

Now I’m thinking about getting you a dildo, little one. Maybe even two. One for that tight little kissy and the other to train your mouth.

The implication made you clench your thighs and you took a deep breath, hoping no one would notice how you were almost squirming in your seat.

Lunch forgotten, your eyes were fixed on your phone as the three dots kept moving on the screen. You weren’t really sure if this counted as texting per se but you had never been this explicit with someone over texts and your heart skipped a beat as the next message appeared.

Boba: Does that turn you on?

You: Yes.

Boba: Where are you?

You: On my lunch break. Why?

Boba: Because if you’d been home I’m this close to take a half-day and fuck you silly in your own bed.

You shuddered, your thighs clenching.

I’m this close to going home sick if that’s what awaits me.

The read notification popped up but you saw how he wasn’t online anymore and frowned. You tried to avoid your thoughts of how maybe you had been too forward or too awkward or maybe he thought you were weird now for being willing to go home in the middle of the workday just to get in bed with him. But the truth was you were.

Work was boring today and while you appreciated Nat’s attempts to get talking, you didn’t really feel in the mood to talk. Besides, you knew she was just out to get more info about the bar mystery man as she called him and even though you liked her you really didn’t want to talk about Boba to anyone. So yeah, the thought of being able to go home and be able to feel Boba against you instead of going through the different numbers sounded like heaven to you.

Reluctantly, you got back to your pasta salad, aware that you only had a few minutes on your break left and trying to not spend them checking your phone constantly. How much more pathetic could you be?

“Ready?” Nat asked suddenly beside you as her friends got their dishes into the dishwasher and you nodded with a smile.

“Although when is one ever ready for work?” she asked, faking a British accent and you grinned, pocketing your phone in the pocket of your dress.

“Never,” you replied, “one can just hope it’ll be over soon.”

The dark-haired women turned to you with a conspiratory grin before twirling into her cubicle, leaving you alone to go back to your desk. You stood at the entrance of your cubicle for a moment, eyes roaming over the papers on your desk, ruined with your scribbling as you tried to decipher whatever numbers marketing had sent you.

You rubbed your hand over your face, forcing yourself to smile with the hopes that it would release endorphins or some shit. You could do this. There was no need to feel overwhelmed by this. What would be the first step to make this better?

Typing the email to Brenda from Marketing should not have been as hard as it was. But your mind was swirling with trying to find the right balance between polite and insistent because you could not afford to lose any more hours of work over something that simply could not be worked with.

Just as you were ready to give up, your phone pinged.

Boba: Sorry, business call. But believe me, little one, I can’t wait until this weekend. Would you be okay with me buying some toys for you?

You smiled, answer already ready.

*

“Shit, little one, you looked so good like that. You like that?”

You gasped for breath, eagerly nodding. A thin layer of sweat had built all over your body as you knelt on the end of the bed. You were so intoxicated by these feelings, by him, it felt like everything was on fire, getting ready to burst.

As soon as he had arrived – you being the first in the room this time around – he had framed your face in his hands and kissed you until you both been breathless. And then he had shown you the toys.

That was how you had ended up here, on the bed, completely naked, moving yourself on one of the dildos he had brought for you.

“Look at you, such a good girl for me, hm?” Boba murmured, his hands moving once again and you choked, tears stinging in your eyes from the effort of trying to relax your throat and keeping your hands behind your back as he had instructed.

Boba had not just brought one toy. He had brought two. And you while you were fucking yourself on one, thighs shaking with the effort, Boba had pushed the other down your mouth. “To train you to take me,” he had rumbled with a glint in his eyes.

A particularly hard thrust down your throat forced you lower on the shaft between your legs and you moaned, tears of pleasure and despair pricking your eyes. He was still completely closed, looking as dominant as ever and you could feel your clit and y our nipples aching wanting to be touched and played with.

You whined, drool slipping down your chin and Boba showed mercy, slowly pulling the toys away from your mouth. “What is it, little one?” he asked, “What’s got you all teary-eyed, hm ?”

“My – my nipples are so sensitive,” you pleaded with him, “Please, please touch them, Boba.”

He grinned darkly, running the tip of the dildo over your wet lips. “So, touch them.”

You shook your head as best as you could, wanting to remind him of the one rule he had set for you but then he pushed the toys back into your mouth. Your back arched as you leant forwards, humming when the dildo shifted inside you and even more so when your chest brushed against the rough material of his shirt.

It was like little pricks of pleasure coursed through you.

Boba looked down at you, the blue dildo still in his hand and you felt heat seep into your cheeks. From shame? Maybe. But all you felt arousal as you saw the admiration in hid ryes.

“How desperate you look,” he mused, his fingers holding your chin, “How pretty. Just for me.”

“Yes,” you gasped, mouth falling open as you sank down on the toys again, your nipples brushing over the harsh fabric, “J-just for you.”

“My pretty little fucktoy,” he smiled, leaning down and kissing you open-mouthed. You gasped into him, pleasure overtaking you and when his hand wandered down to your right nipple, pinching and pulling it sharply, you came. Everything in your body tightening before it felt like you were bursting at the seams, the sudden wave of pleasure making you whimper.

Where you had been so precariously balanced on top of the dildo, now you lost your balance, completely falling against him but Boba was there to catch you.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, his hand still squeezing your tit, “Think you have another round in you?”

Your eyes fell to the very obvious bulge in his pants and you nodded eagerly. Even with your legs still trembling from your orgasm, you were already carving more. More of this, more of him and the pleasure he could give you.

With calloused fingers gently wrapped around your forearm, he helped you up.

You followed willingly, letting him turn around until you were facing the bed, sheets messy where you had kneeled.

“I’m going to let you choose, little one,” he murmured into your ear, his warm body pressed against your back. You could hardly concentrate with your hands on your skin like that, one hand holding you by your throat while the other dipped between your folds. “Which toy do you want to fuck now?”

First, you were disappointed that apparently you did not get to fuck yourself on his cocks but then his finger swiped over your clit and you shuddered.

“Answer me, princess,” he growled, his hand slightly tightening on your throat, “Or are you too cockdumb already?”

“Nuh-uh,” you tried to shake your head just as much as your legs were shaking from the pleasure he was giving you. You tried to focus on the toys. The one you had used already and the one he had had you suck off. The blue one was glistening from your juices and your thighs clenched at the thought of having it inside you again.

But the other one, the purple one, was much thicker than the blue and you knew it was closer to what Boba’s cock actually felt like.

“The purple one,” you murmured, head leaning back against his shoulder and he mouthed at your neck, humming in satisfaction.

“You’re so kriffing sexy, you know that?” he whispered, planting a playful bite on your shoulders before leaving you alone in the middle of the room. You whined, pressing your thighs together as you saw him so meticulously prepare for what seemed to be the next scene he had had in mind.

With a soft towel spread on the floor in front of the armchair, Boba looked at you as he sat down, legs spread wide before planting the dildo on the towel. “I think good girls deserve a treat,” he murmured, working on his pants before getting his weeping cock out and you swore your knees were that close to giving out underneath you.

You gaped at him, practically falling on your knees with your hands placed on his thighs. The impact made a dull sound and your heart skipped a beat as he immediately leant forward, fingers gripping your chin as he searched your face for any sign of pain.

“I know you’re eager to suck my cock, little one,” he smirked, “But no need hurting yourself over it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling a little embarrassed for how needy you were being.

Boba smirked, leaning back in his seat but not before running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes flicked down to his weeping cock, your mouth watering at seeing how a drop of precome had already collected at the tip.

Without thinking any further, you sank down on the dildo, mouth falling open at how it stretched you. You ducked down, closing your lips around his shaft and taking him as deep as he would go in one smooth movement.

Boba groaned loudly above you, one hand going to the back of your neck to keep you there. Just like your pussy, he filled your throat completely, your tongue feeling as if it was running out of space so you did your best to press it against the underside of him, wriggling along the prominent vein he had there.

Tears gathered in your eyes again and you moaned as the toy inside you hit a spot the previous one couldn’t. Your hips stuttered, slowly starting to grin against it in hopes of it hitting that spot again. You did not move your mouth from him.

“Fuck you look good like that,” he praised you, his free hand coming around your throat and you tried to swallow when you felt his thumb rub over the bulge in your throat. You had not even realized how far you had taken him but when you saw the grin on his face, his eyes glazed over in pleasure, you felt proud of yourself for making him feel like this.

Slowly he pulled you off his length and you followed, gasping for breath when you could. A trail of saliva connected you still to him and through your lashes, you looked up at him. Even now he was a sight to behold, jaw clenched, a glint in his eyes.

You would do everything to please him.

“Don’t think I can last long, little one,” he grumbled, lips twitching as he spotted how you still moved your hips, “Think you can come before that? Don’t want to leave you hanging.”

You nodded, rising on your knees again just like before and sinking back down, moaning when it hit that sweet spot.

“Good,” he smiled, warping his hand around his cock, “You can touch yourself how much you. Just want you to come for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled, obediently opening your mouth to take him in again. Your fingers went to your clit, circling it to spread around the wetness that was already making its way to the towel. You gasped, hips jerking at the pleasure.

Boba groaned, rubbing the head of his cock along your tongue, precoma coating your taste buds. He pushed your head down again, quickly building up to a rhythm that had you choking and gagging, spit trailing down your chin, making you feel filthy and desired.

One hand came up to your chest, pinching your nipple and throwing you off the cliff. Your moan got interrupted by Boba shoving himself down your throat even more and you shook where you sat, your wetness coating the toy until all you could hear were obscene squelching sounds from between your thighs.

“Where did you want my come little one?”

“On my face, please,” you gasped.

A deep, guttural groan left him and you opened your mouth even wider, sticking your tongue out as your fingers played with your nipples. Hot roped of come splattered on your face, landing on your brows, your nose, your tongue, dripping down your chin and onto your chest. Boba continued pumping his shaft milking himself of every last drop and collecting it on his thumb before gently spreading it over your cheek.

“Did I do good?” you asked, heaving for breath.

“You were perfect,” he rumbled, scooping some of his come onto your tongue and you swallowed eagerly.

You shifted on your knees, wincing when the dildo moved inside you.

Boba leant down to you, his hand carefully holding you by the elbow as he stood up slowly, taking you with him. Your legs were shaking from the strain and your knees hurt from straightening them. You shivered.

A soft kiss was pressed to your lips and he led you back to the bed. The fabric was cool under your fingertips and you took a shaky breath. His warm hands were on your shoulders, thumbs brushing the skin as he looked down on you.

“Let me get you something to clean up, okay?” he murmured.

You nodded silently. He disappeared for a moment and you simply sat there, wringing your hands and trying to focus on your surroundings. Everything was fuzzy still, pleasantly warm from your orgasms but you also felt could now that it was over.

You heard the sink run in the bathroom and a moment later, Boba was in front of you again, a warm cloth in his hands that he gently ran over your face.

“Look up at me, little one,” he murmured and you did, closing your eyes as you tilted your face towards him. With gentle movements, he cleaned your face but you were too tired to smile. You felt drained but in a good way, like your limbs were too heavy from pleasure to really move and so you just let the feelings wash over you.

When he was finished, his hand came up to cup your cheek and you leaned into him.

Boba hummed, “Would you like to take a shower or a bath?”

“Bath, please,” you croaked, flinching as you heard how hoarse you sounded. Boba’s lips quirked up and he nodded. Slowly he guided you to the tiled bathroom, sitting you down on a towel at the edge of the tub before getting the water running.

You frowned, the rushing water almost too loud in your ears. Boba turned around, spotting you curling in on yourself and just like that he had you in his arms.

“It was a bit intense, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing against your ears and you nodded, burying your head in the fabric of his flannel.

“I – I don’t know why I feel this way,” you whispered, “this … sensitive.”

“You’re coming down from a high, little one,” he explained, thumb brushing the back of your neck, “It’s normal to feel a little exposed. But I will make sure, you’re okay, okay? Anything you need, princes, you just tell me, yeah? Anything.”

“Okay,” you whispered, already feeling a bit better with him here.

You did not know for how long you stood there, but when the water shut off and Boba helped you in the tub you sighed in content. The water was just the perfect temperature and you sunk in with closed eyes, the only thing guiding you being Boba’s hands.

“I will get us some food, okay?” he asked quietly, sitting at the edge of the tub and holding your hand. You had never felt this cared for. “I will get us the same order as the last time, does that sound good?”

You nodded with a smile. He stood up but you held onto his hand, only letting go when the distance became too much. Stars, you were really fucked out good, weren’t you?

With your eyes closed in relaxation, you could only hear his low chuckle as he got ready to leave. The door to the room closed not long after. You soaked in the tub for what felt like an eternity. The water was warm and you were positively surprised by the scent of the motel shampoo. It certainly was not as bad as you thought it would be.

Slowly you felt yourself coming back to reality, feeling more energized and more awake and aware of your surroundings. Boba had not come back yet so when the water got a little too cold for your liking, you decided to get out anyway.

You got dressed in your nightgown you had taken with you – thankful that Boba had left it for you on the counter in a moment of foresight –, hurrying barefoot over the carpet into the bed.

Just as you turned on the TV, the lock of the door turned and a whistling Boba came in, arms laden full of brown paper bags.

“You got more than last time,” you stated, frowning as you saw him put down a second paper bag on the small TV desk.

“Well, I won’t be able to buy you breakfast tomorrow, now will I?” he replied, “Thought I could take care of that now and then you don’t have to worry about it tomorrow.”

“Oh really?” you asked, sitting up on your knees, not minding when the blanket fell down, so you could at least make an attempt to peer into the bag.

Boba chuckled, indulging you by handing you the mysterious food bag and immediately you took a peek. There, neatly arranged, was a croissant, a chocolate muffin and what looked like a little breakfast sandwich.

“I’d keep the sandwich in the fridge,” Boba commented from the other side of the room, already taking out the familiar smelling food containers. He did not seem to know how your heart swelled in your chest at the sweet gesture.

You knew he had wanted to be here for breakfast – he had literally told you so on the phone – but when it was clear that Saturday would remain your meeting day of choice, you thought he had just shrugged it off. Maybe it had just been a flirtatious remark?

But the fact that he had gone out of his way to somehow show you he had been serious about what he had said made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“It’s very sweet,” you murmured, looking at the way the muscles in his back moves as he fished for the plastic utensils, “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” he replied easily, still smiling when he turned around and carried the food with him, “Now let me slip under that blanket, princess, what will we watch?”

You giggled, watching this giant man carefully position himself on the bed, before stretching out his arm, offering you the food to eat and his chest to rest against once again.

“I could get used to this,” you murmured, taking a bite of the pita.

“Me too, princess,” he rumbled, “Me too.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Chemistry on the Couch

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

submitted by @elevenspeter

Masterlist

“You have a celebrity crush, don’t you Tom?” Graham instigated as he leaned forward curiously on his knee. Tom didn’t have to think twice to know who he was referring to. There was only one girl that had been living rent free in Toms mind since he was a child, and that was you.

“I do. Ever since I was little, I had the biggest crush on Y/n L/n, the actress.” Tom began with a shy smile. “And I mean the biggest crush. To the point where my parents had her movies playing on the TV all day long to keep me from crying. To this day, I could recite all her lines because I have seen it so many times.”

“That’s so cute.” Emily Blunt, another guest on the couch, gushed. “I bet she’d be happy to hear you fancied her.”

“And whats this I hear about kissing the TV?” Graham giggled to himself.

“I-“ ,Tom cut himself off to laugh in embarrassment as the rest of the audience laughed, “I was convinced she was my girlfriend so I would kiss the TV whenever she was on the screen.” He shrugged in his defense as the audience erupted into laughter. “It drove my dad mad because I got saliva all over the television but my mum thought it was sweet.”

“Aw.” Graham pouted. “So you were a big fan?”

“I was obsessed with that girl from the time I was five until I was about 31.” Tom confirmed.

“How old are you now?” Emily wondered.

“24.” Tom stated, eliciting a laugh from the audience.

“How adorable.” Graham looked out at the crowd with a deviant smile. “And that’s exactly what we told her when we asked her to be on the show tonight. Y/n, come on out.”

Tom’s heart stopped momentarily as Graham looked behind him and waved. His eyes slowly went up as the sound of high heels on tile sounded over the roar of the crowd.

“Oh no.” Tom gulped. Strapped into those high heels were mile long legs wrapped in a tight black dress, all topped off with your perfect face. Tom had spent years loving you through a screen, and now you were walking towards him.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Y/n L/n!” Graham announced as you came out from backstage with a cheery smile. The audience became deafening as you walked towards the couch but Tom couldn’t hear a thing. His heart had yet to kickstart as he watched you with wide eyes.

“Hi!” You waved warmly to the crowd before hugging Graham hello. Tom looked down in disbelief as you made your way through the guests, hugging each one and greeting them hello. His heart pounded in his ears as you got closer and before he knew it, his life long crush was standing in front of him.

“Hi, Tom. I’m Y/n.” You smiled brightly as you opened your arms to him. Tom nearly jumped out of his seat and gulped as your eyes met his. It might’ve been the lights, but he could’ve sworn your eyes sparkled like they were coated in glitter.

“Yeah.” Tom sputtered, forgetting every word in the English language. The audience laughed at Toms stiffness, but you didn’t. You held his gaze and gave him an assuring smile, silently telling him to relax.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You continued, your arms still open to him. Tom snapped out of his daze and stepped into your arms, resting his head on your shoulder with a child like smile. He was convinced he was dreaming until your lightly curled hair was tickling his face as you embraced, telling him that this was really happening.

“It’s nice to meet you too, darling.” He mumbled happily in your ear. You pulled away but kept your hands on his shoulders, smiling brightly at him when you noticed how red his cheeks were.

“I like your accent.” You told him, keeping one hand on his shoulder as the both of you sat down. All that space on the couch and you chose the spot next to him, something that sent a flurry of butterflies into Toms tummy.

“I like yours too.” He said with a soft smile, never taking his eyes off you. He spent so many years watching you on his television screen, watching you grow up and mature, but nothing could prepare him for the beauty in front of him now. He was enchanted by you, everything about you, and it was making it hard to focus on anything else. He was in a bright room full of people with multiple cameras on him, but all he could see was you.

“Thank you.” You giggled. “You’re Spiderman, right?”

“Yeah, I am.” Tom nodded, mouth drying out. “You know about me?”

“Of course I do. Who doesn’t know about the cutest Spider-Man to date?” You nudged him slightly, his eyes staying glued to your arm as you touched him.

“Did everyone else hear that?” He looked out at the audience with doe eyes.

“We heard it.” Graham nodded with a laugh.

“Just making sure.” Tom beamed, still reeling from your compliment. You were the most heavenly creature to walk the planet in Toms opinion, and you thought he was cute. Just about every dream he had ever had was coming true all at once, and he was loving every second.

“Now Tom, we have a picture that your mother sent in. Look how cute.” Graham gushed as he turned to his monitor. A picture of a young Tom appeared and the audience, as well as all the guests on the couch, fawned over it. In the picture, he was kissing the TV that was paused on a scene from one of your movies. You laughed in delight and absentmindedly squeezed Tom’s hand.

“Aw. We already had our first kiss and I didn’t even know it.” You teased him, scooting a little closer to him on the couch. You hadn’t let go of his hand yet, but he wasn’t complaining.

“I am so sorry.” Tom shook his head in embarrassment and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

“Don’t be. As long as I know about the next one, I’ll be fine.” You shrugged, looking at him through your eyelashes. Tom gulped at the thought of a next kiss, especially if you were the one suggesting it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were flirting with him.

“Now, you two have actually met before.” Graham said as he pointed between the two of you. You looked at Tom in confusion, letting go of his hand to brush a stay curl off your face.

“Have we?” You asked him. He nodded, trying not to let the disappointment of you letting go of his hand show on his face.

“Yeah. We met many years ago at the Secret Life of Arietty premier because you were in the American version and I was in the British version.”

“Oh My God!” Your eyes widened. “Wait, I do remember you! You were so sweet.”

“Was I? I wouldn’t know, I blacked out.” Tom joked, making you laugh cheerfully.

“Tom’s mother graced us with a home video. Now, this was taken after the premier right?” Graham asked as he turned his attention back to the monitor behind him.

“Oh, God.” Tom sighed, knowing exactly what was coming. “This was after the premier when I could not stop bouncing off the walls because I met you. I think my parents recorded it specifically to embarrass me in front of Y/n one day.”

“Lets take a look, shall we?” Graham asked the audience as the home video began to play.

“Who did you meet?” You heard Tom’s mother’s voice from behind the camera. On the screen was a grainy video of teenage Tom, clad in a shiny suit and wide grin. His face was splashed with freckles and acne, he had a mole on his chin, and his teeth hadn’t quite straightened out yet, but you thought he was the cutest thing imaginable.

“I met Y/n!” He gushed, taking a deep breath as if he still didn’t believe it. He was pacing around his kitchen, slightly loosening his neck tie as he went.

“Yay!” He mom cheered. “Where did you meet her?”

“We were at the Secret Life of Arietty premier and she came up to me and she hugged me and we took a picture and she was so pretty.” He rambled, all his words coming out in one breath. You laughed loudly at the video, resting your hand on Tom’s knee as you continued to watch.

“What did she say to you?” His mom asked from behind the camera.

“She said she likes my accent!” He practically screamed as he tugged on his tie. “She said she likes my accent when hers is so pretty. She’s so pretty.”

“Yay! Tommy’s so excited. He just met his dream girl.” His mom chuckled.

“Mum, did you see me? Did you see her hug me?” Tom asked as he bounced up and down. “She smelled so good. Like Christmas.”

The video faded to black and the monitor turned off, the audience clapping as it concluded.

“That was so cute! Tom, I’m gonna die.” You pouted, turning to him and squeezing his knee.

“Please don’t die. We’re just getting to know each other.” Tom laughed, putting his hand over yours and squeezing it. He was never normally this bold, especially not with girls he fancied since childhood, but something about you gave him a confidence he didn’t hate.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You were so excited.” You gushed, your own flock of butterflies erupting in your tummy.

“I’m having the exact same reaction right now, just internally.” He gestured to himself, making you laugh.

“Really?” You asked, liking his attention more than you thought you would.

“Obviously.” He laughed. “I had the biggest crush on you growing up.”

“I think I have a crush on you now.” You half joked, half meant entirely.

“Oooo, looks like we have a love connection on the couch tonight.” Graham wiggled his eyebrows. “So Y/n, Tom’s seen all your movies. Have you seen his?”

“No, I haven’t.” You shook your head and looked at Tom.

“I have copies back in my hotel room if you want to see them.” He said innocently, not wanting the interaction to end after the show was done.

“How bold of you, Tom.” Graham snorted, making the audience murmur with excitement.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Tom said quickly, not wanting to offend you. His cheeks were bright red as the crowd misinterpreted his statement. You felt bad for him and shut him up before he could apologize further.

“I know you didn’t.” You patted his arm. “Can we watch them after the show? I’d love to see you in action.”

“You want to?” He asked in surprise, face heating up once again.

“Yeah, I do.” You nodded. “I want to see your work.”

“You hear that Tom? She wants to see you in action.” Graham said wickedly, also trying to start trouble.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re a host, not a match maker.”

“Why can’t the man be both?” Tom shrugged, not particularly mad at the flirting that was going on.

“Careful there, Spiderman.” You warned. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Who says I can’t finish?” Tom shot back, feeling confident enough to test his luck with you.

“I’ll guess we’ll find out tonight, won’t we?” You gave him a once over as you leaned back on the couch.

“Tonight?” He furrowed his eyebrows, not knowing what you meant.

“In your hotel room.” You said simply. “I meant what I said. I wanna see you in action.”

“Okay.” Tom swallowed thickly, trying not to show how nervous he was. “I’ll show you my movies.”

“Awesome.” You smiled brightly at him. “It’s a date.”

~

“This is my room.” Tom said unenthusiastically as he turned on the lights in his hotel room. “If you see boxers on the floor, they’re not mine.”

“Then who’s are they?” You snorted. “Are you and Jake Gyllenhaal filming Broke Back Mountain 2 without telling anyone?”

“No, no. They’re mine.” Tom quickly corrected. “And don’t bring up Broke Back Mountain around me. I had no idea what it was about before I watched it and I still can’t look at fishing rods without blushing.”

“You’re too cute.” You laughed at him as you slid out of your high heels.

“Thanks.” Tom smiled sheepishly. “I’m gonna get the movie ready.”

“I’ll be right there. I just have to get out of this dress.” You called from the bathroom. “Are you okay with me wearing the hotel robe? I promise I won’t get any makeup on it. Not on the outside, at least.”

“Here. This might be more comfortable.” Tom appeared in the doorway with a hoodie and a pair a sweatpants.

“Thanks.” You smiled warmly at him as you took the clothes. “I won’t get makeup on this either.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t mind if you did.” He shrugged it off. “It’d be a nice little reminder of you.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and let your eyes wander around Toms face, appreciating every line and freckle. He was awfully sweet, and you found that awfully compelling.

“Do you have any face wash?” You asked him, snapping out of your trance before you got pulled in too deep.

“I have soap.” He offered, pointing to a bottle of Dove on the counter.

“You’re such a boy.” You laughed and ran your fingers through your curls. “I’ll just leave this on then.”

“That’s not so bad. Your makeup looks really nice.” He said quietly as he kept his eyes low.

“Thanks. I’ll let my makeup artist know you like it.” You smirked at him as you walked towards the mirror, beginning to gather your hair in a ponytail.

“I’m not so sure it’s the makeup that I like.” He shrugged as he leaned against the doorframe. “It’s what’s underneath.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked a little insecurely, looking at him in the mirror as loose curls fell out of your ponytail to frame your face.

“I’ve thought you were pretty since I learned to spell “pretty.”” Tom chuckled, scratched the back of his neck as he shyly watched you.

“Aren’t you dyslexic? I’m sure it wasn’t that long ago.” You teased him endearingly.

“Hey.” He whined playfully. “How did you know I was dyslexic?”

“I might have googled you.” You shrugged, avoiding eye contact as you applied some chapstick in the mirror.

“Did you now?” He asked, taking an even deeper interest in the conversation.

“I googled all the guests that were gonna be on the show.” You shrugged as a light blush painted your cheeks.

“Oh.” Tom nodded, looking away disheartened.

“Don’t sound too disappointed.” You laughed. “Your dyslexia didn’t show up on the first page of google. I did some digging on you.”

“Oh.” He said again in a completely different tone. This time, he was intrigued. You walked away from the mirror and met Tom in the doorway, leaning your arms against the frame as you smiled at him.

“I’m gonna get changed now.” You told him. “Save me a seat.”

“Okay.” He bit his tongue excitedly, giving you a once over before turned to walk to the bed.

“Wait, Tom?” You called putting for him once he was out of sight.

“Yeah?” He came back with concerned eyes. You smirked slightly as him before turning around and touching the back of your neck.

“Unzip me?” You asked, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. Toms chest tightened, feeling a shortness of breath before nodding his head. The way you were looking at him made him forget how to complete an action as simple as raising his hand, but a simple tug of your lips into a smile restored his confidence. He cleared his throat and snapped out of his trance, smiling shyly at you as he nodded.

“Sure.” He mumbled, hesitantly reaching up and grabbing your zipper. He slowly dragged it down your back, a blush painting his cheeks when the lacy black band of your bra was revealed. He pulled the zipper to the end, stopping at the bottom of your spine.

“Thanks.” You turned around slowly and shot him a wink.

“Anytime.” He answered, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. He touched a cool hand to his cheek, trying to draw away some of the heat.

“I might have to take you up on that.” You shrugged a shoulder, knowing full well what you were doing. Tom caught the double meaning of your statement and felt his face redden from the bridge of his nose all the way to the tips of his ears. You smiled slyly at him before closing the door so you could change.

Tom put the disc in the DVD player and got settled on bed, awkwardly shifting the sheets as he waited for you to join him. It didn’t take long before he heard the bathroom door opening, doing a double take when he noticed you hadn’t bothered with the sweatpants he gave you. His eyes were glued to your bare legs that peeked out from the bottom of his hoodie as you made your way towards the bed.

“Nice stems.” Tom quoted a favorite movie of his as you sat on the bed next to him.

“I thought it might be a little too hot for sweatpants.” You said without looking at him, ostentatiously crossing your legs just to give Tom another look.

“I see.” He gulped, sneaking glances at you every now and then as the movie started.

A few silent moments went by as you paid attention to the movie, not taking particular attention to the parts when Tom wasn’t on screen. His heart beat loudly in his ears as that scene in the alleyway came on, keeping a close eye on your reaction. He heard you suck in your breath when the suit slid off, feeling a twinge of pride as an impressed look crossed your face. You scooted a little closer to Tom, running nervous fingers through your curled hair.

“Well damn.” You laughed shyly. “I’ve never seen someone look as good out of a suit as they look in it.”

“Was that a compliment?” Tom looked at you cheekily. “Are you complimenting me, darling?”

“Would you be mad if I was?” You asked softly. The corners of Toms mouth tugged into a smile as he scooted closer as well.

“Not at all.” He shook his head, the movie long gone from his mind. You took this as an opportunity to move even closer to Tom, your hips touching each other now as your bare legs tangled with his clothed ones. You twisted a little in place, leaning into his side as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You whispered, rubbing his arm gently as you looked up at him.

“Darling, this is just fine.” He answered, resting a hand on your knee and rubbing it gently with his thumb.

“Good.” You smirked, cuddling into his side and resting your head in the crook of his neck. Tom kept his eyes on you, feeling like he was gonna wake up any moment from what surely was a dream. Your attention snapped to him, making him jump a little as you made eye contact.

“Stop staring.” You scolded playfully. “I’m trying to pay attention.”

“Sorry. Sorry.” Tom chuckled, moving his arm so he could wrap it around you and hold you closer. You stayed like that for the rest of the movie, just enjoying the embrace of a stranger who really wasn’t that strange at all.

~

“What did you think? Did you like it?” Tom asked as he walked you to the elevator once the film had ended. You had your arm linked in his, wearing his sweatpants now as your evening together was coming to an end. He walked slowly, trying to draw out his time with you.

“I didn’t watch it.” You chuckled as you answered honestly. “Any of it.”

“Then what have you been doing the last two hours?” He wondered.

“Looking at you.” You smiled shyly. “Only when you weren’t looking, of course.”

“That’s funny.” Tom mumbled as he brushed a curl off your face. “Because all the times you weren’t looking at me, I was looking at you.”

You reached the elevator and felt a sadness in your heart, knowing this was the end of an enchanting evening.

“I promise I’ll watch your movie when I get home.” You told him as you waited for the elevator to come. “And all your other movies. I might stalk you on Instagram too. Do you have Twitter?”

“I do.” He nodded. “If you follow me, I might react the same way I did in that home video you saw. Maybe even worse.”

“I wish I could see that. I bet it’s even cuter now than it was back then.” You smiled, trying to prolong the conversation as much as you could. The elevator dinged, signaling that it was there, but you didn’t budge. You just pressed your back against the wall next to it and looked at Tom as you spoke.

“I bet it’s just as lame though.” He shrugged, playing with one of the ties on the hoodie.

“I think it’s sweet.” You said softly, putting your hand over his. “I think you’re sweet.”

A radiant smile lit up Toms face as he looked down, feeling fireworks in his chest going off with your words. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of your head, leaning forward and fitting his face into the crook of your neck to conceal his blush. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug and letting it linger to say goodbye.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna need your number so we can arrange a time for me to get this hoodie back to you.” You said as you pulled apart, keeping on hand on his shoulder as he hovered over you.

“You see, I’m torn darling.” Tom shook his head. “I want you to keep the hoodie but I also want to see you again.”

You bit your bottom lip and held out your hand, gesturing that you wanted him to hand you something.

“Give me your phone.”

“Okay.” Tom agreed as he pulled it out of his pocket, not even questioning why you needed it. You took his phone from him, smiling at the picture of him and his friends that he used as his background.

“I put my number in.” You told him as you handed it back. “Use it.”

“I will. I promise you I will. I just have to gawk at it for a few hours first until every thing that happened tonight really sinks it.” He joked, making you laugh loudly as the elevator dinged again, rushing you were you just weren’t ready yet.

“Are you gonna come down with me?” You nodded towards the elevator, wanting every second with him you could get.

“After you.” Tom held the door open so you could step inside, going in shortly after you.

“I had a really good time tonight.” You said once the doors closed. “I said that already but, you know, I mean it.”

“So did I.” Tom nodded, sneaking glances at you as the floors climbed down, going much faster than he liked. “A really, really good time.”

“Thanks for letting me come over.”

“Thanks for existing or whatever.” Tom mumbled as he scratched behind his ear and averted his eyes. You giggled happily, giving him one last look as you reached the lobby. The elevator doors opened, but you didn’t get out. You hit the button that closed the doors and turned to Tom, ignoring the confused look on his face as you rested your hands on his chest.

“You know, since you’ve so kindly gifted me your hoodie, it’s only fair I leave you with something.” You suggested with a sultry smile.

“Trust me, darling. The memories are enough for me.” He said as he shyly rested his hands on your hips. You moved your hands further up his chest, letting them rest on his shoulders as you pressed up against him.

“Then let’s make one more.” You whispered, looking between his eyes and his mouth before connecting his lips to yours.

Tag List 🏷

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[hookingminor]

invisible string - cale makar

a/n: another old fic rewritten for our fav defenseman sorry the gif I found is so large I could not find any horizontal ones I liked that fit my aesthetic rip

word count: 3.6k

warnings: alcohol, very brief mentions of blood/injury

summary: based on taylor swift’s invisible string

-

You were going to miss this park.

Every Saturday afternoon you come here. Most of the time, you spent your day underneath the large oak tree planted in the center of the park, nose deep in whatever book you were currently reading. This month’s choice was I’ll Give You The Sun. Occasionally, you would do homework or take a nap, but your favorite thing to do was read. This oak tree was your favorite spot in all of Calgary, and you were really going to miss it.

After five years in Calgary, you were finally moving back home to Denver. Your family moved around a lot as your dad was transferred frequently, but your true home was Denver. You hadn’t been back there since you were six, but it was still home.

Calgary was always temporary. You knew eventually you’d pack up and leave, your parents dragging you along with them because you were only sixteen and had no choice, but it got exhausting after a while. You just wanted to stay somewhere.

Even though you knew your time in Calgary was limited, it didn’t stop you from falling in love with the city.

On the Saturdays that you spent tucked away underneath the tree, you always let your mind wander into daydreams of meeting someone there. You dreamed of being swept away in a whirlwind of a romance, and it all started with meeting someone at the park. All your daydreams could probably be tied back to the numerous romances you continuously read or due to the fact you longed for a teenage love, but what could you say? You were a hopeless romantic. Maybe it would be someone walking their dog or an afternoon jogger running into you or a lost tourist asking for directions. Either way, you thought it would be the most romantic meet-cute, under your special tree.

Five years passed, though, and your dreams of meeting someone dwindled until the only reasons you went to the park were purely for peace and quiet. Now, you were spending your last day in Calgary in your favorite spot, soaking up the sunshine as you finished your latest book.

On the last page, five paragraphs from being done, you heard a loud scream.

Your head snapped up, concentration broken as you searched around for the origin of the noise. Lo and behold, off in the distance, you saw the form of a boy rollerblading down the bike trail. There must have been some sticks or rocks on the path because the boy kept shouting as he wailed his arms around, unable to stop.

You watched as he continued stumbling for a few seconds before he careened off the trail and into the grass, tumbling onto the ground before rolling into a nearby tree.

Initially, your jaw dropped in shock, a soft gasp escaping as you covered your mouth with your hand. You waited a few seconds, watching for movement, and then you heard the pained groans coming from the injured boy.

The boy gradually pushed himself up by his hands, and you could see the bloody scrapes on his forearms even from your distance away. He slowly got back up on his feet, limping across the grass as he made his way back to the trail.

Not being able to help yourself, you began laughing at his misfortune. Now that you knew he was okay, the screaming and fall replayed in your mind, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

You thought you were far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to hear you, but you were sadly mistaken. The boy’s head turned to the sound of your laughter, and he followed it until his eyes met yours. You stopped laughing, but the smile on your face refused to fall as you took in his disheveled state.

He watched you try to hide your amused smile to no avail. It only took a few seconds of chuckling while directly staring at him before he returned your smile with one of his own. You saw a flash of teeth and the corner of his lips pulled into a smirk. He gave you one last glance, shaking his head slightly before turning back towards the direction he’d come from. You watched his figure rollerblade back down the path, avoiding the obstructions this time, and disappear from your vision.

The boy rollerbladed to the park the next Saturday. He skated by the same spot where he fell last week and glanced over to the centered oak tree, hoping to see you again, but you were nowhere to be found.

-

Cale couldn’t sleep. It seemed like no matter what he did, he just couldn’t fall asleep. The team had put him in a hotel for a few weeks while they worked on finding him a more permanent residence, but despite the comfort of the hotel bed, he didn’t find the mattress agreeable.

He’d been in Denver for two weeks now and he’d yet to see anything in the city besides the arena. His days were full of hockey practices and meetings, and his evenings were full of extra training at the gym. The latter was his own personal choice; he didn’t want to squander his chance at playing in the NHL and felt that he needed to train a little harder, being new and all.

He tossed and turned in bed for two hours before finally giving up. Sleep obviously wasn’t going to come to him soon, so he might as well kill some time instead.

Pulling out his phone, Cale searched ‘diners near me’ into Google and scrolled through the list of options. He selected the one nearest to him that was also open twenty-four hours, entered the address into maps, threw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and was out of the door within three minutes.

The chilly, brisk walk to the diner took ten minutes from the hotel. Cale hadn’t been in Denver long, but he knew the weather was going to agree with him, if only because he had so much experience with the bitter cold Calgary winters.

A bell dinged above his head as he entered through the front door. Cale glanced around the small diner, noticing a few old truckers at the counter, a young teenage couple near the window, and a girl his age tucked away into a corner booth writing into a notebook.

A middle-aged woman with graying hair approached him at the front, a menu in her hand.

“Just one?” She asked him, noticing his lost puppy look. Cale nodded his head in agreement, following the lady to a secluded booth.

She set down the menu in front of him before pulling out a mug to pour him a cup of coffee.

“New around here?” She asked him as his eyes read the menu slowly.

“Is it that obvious?” He replied with an awkward chuckle.

“We usually have a small group of regulars. Your ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look is a dead giveaway,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.”

The woman walked back behind the counter, serving more coffee to the truckers. He saw one cook in the back kitchen ,but other than those two, no one else was working. Probably because it was a little past two in the morning on a Wednesday.

He took his time reading over the menu; he couldn’t decide if he wanted a breakfast platter or a nice burger with fries. He’d narrowed it down to two options when he saw you shuffle out of the corner booth, backpack slung over your shoulders.

You walked his way, the only path to the front door was past his table. His eyes connected with yours, and you gave him a warm smile.

Pausing next to his booth, he watched you as you leaned over his shoulder.

“If you’ve never been here before, I highly recommend the caramel and cream cheese French toast. It’s not on the menu, but they’ll make it anyway if you ask. Oh, and get tater tots instead of the hashbrowns, they’re a lot better,” you suggested.

You flashed him a bright smile, and Cale’s eyes lit up. It felt like he’d seen that smile before, an old memory from a dream that he couldn’t quite remember. He wanted to say thank you or maybe ask what your name was, but you continued on your way out the door before he got a chance to reply. His gaze stayed fixed on the swinging bell above the entrance long after he’d watched you turn down the corner and fade into the night.

His trance was broken when he heard the voice of the waitress call out to him.

“So, did you decide on something?” She asked, a knowing grin on her lips.

The two choices Cale was torn between suddenly vanished from his mind; he couldn’t even remember what he wanted to order before you said something. Cale bit his lip and thought about it. French toast really wasn’t on his diet. All he could do was hope that the extra hours he spent in the hotel gym would pay off and negate the sugar-filled and fatty calories he was about to consume.

Closing the menu without a second glance, he turned his attention towards the waitress. “Yeah, I’ll have the caramel and cream cheese french toast with tater tots, please.”

-

Cale was riding high. The team had just made it to the Stanley Cup finals, and no one could contain their excitement.

Going against the advice of their coaches, a few of them had decided to go out to celebrate. It was nothing big, just a small dive bar on the edge of the city. They wanted to celebrate their hard work, not get so trashed they’d be completely useless for practice tomorrow. They still had their toughest games ahead of them.

The bar was quiet, only a few local patrons were there besides the team. If anyone knew who they were, no one approached them about it. The night passed quickly, laughter and cheers filling the small space as pints of beer were drained.

“Makar, grab the next round,” his captain ordered, and he was too happy to do so. Cale was the resident golden retriever on the team. Someone would say ‘jump’ and Cale would ask ‘how high?’ but he didn’t feel used. He loved being a part of a team. So, he made his way across the room to the bar and ordered two more pints.

For you, it had been a hell of a week. And not in a good way. You finished your Bachelor’s degree almost two weeks ago, but the stress didn’t end when you turned in your last finals. Work was awful, but you still had another couple months until you began your life as a real career woman. You were stuck there for the rest of the summer, promising your supervisor that you wouldn’t leave during their busiest season just because you’d graduated even though you really wanted to put in your two weeks. It was a mistake to make that promise.

After spending a day running numbers and creating spreadsheets that a ten year old could’ve done, all you wanted right now was a drink: the strongest drink you could think of. Perhaps an entire bottle of whiskey if they’d allow it. Or if you could afford it.

The minute after your shift was over, you were out the door and removing the suffocating blazer before you’d even hit the sidewalk. You began the familiar route to your favorite bar, being that it was close to work, cheap, and almost always empty.

When you entered the small bar, you noticed it was slightly busier than normal. Still relatively quiet, but busier than you were used to. You didn’t let it deter you as you walked directly to the bar.

However, it seemed the universe wasn’t done punishing you because when you were five steps away from the countertop, someone turned around abruptly. A hard body slammed into yours along with half a pint of beer.

“Oh, fuck me!” You exclaimed in distress, throwing your hands up as the beer splashed all over your blouse.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” The culprit said, setting the beers back on the bar behind him. He reached over to grab a handful of napkins and then began patting furiously at your top.

“It’s fine,” you sighed, “Today just really isn’t my day.” You took the napkins from one of his hands to dry yourself off.

You looked up to face the man who’d drenched you with cheap beer, and you were met with a dazzling pair of blue eyes. They looked familiar, as if you’d seen him before but couldn’t remember where.

He caught your stare, his lips quirking into a smile at the sight of you. Cale felt a tug inside him, like the feeling of butterflies, when he saw your face. Waves of coolness washed over him, and he was lost in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I ruined your shirt,” he said in a daze, unable to look away from you. He really hoped it didn’t come off as creepy, but little did he know you felt the same way.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t attached to it anyway,” you said, all your previous anger leaving your body. It was actually one of your nicer tops that would cost way too much money to dry clean now, but you weren’t thinking about that.

“Do I know you?” You both asked at the same time. The coincidence caused you two to burst out laughing, and he swore he’d heard that laugh before.

“How about I buy you a drink to make up for this?” He asked, beaming from ear to ear.

Your eyes twinkled as you nodded your head, and Cale felt his heart burst at your smile.

-

A year passed in a blurry haze. The night out at the bar turned into a two hour conversation with the stranger who’d spilled beer all over you. He apologized profusely the entire night and introduced himself to make up for it. He only ordered you two drinks, but you spent hours together laughing.

You told him about your hellish day and complained about work, and he recalled the wins and upcoming games he had in the next couple weeks. Soon, you were exchanging life stories and you found out he was originally from Calgary. You discussed your hobbies and interests outside of work, the best movies you’ve seen recently, and where in Denver you could find the most authentic Mexican food.

Eventually, it neared one in the morning, and Cale had to get home for practice in the morning. As much as he wanted to stay longer to talk to you, he knew he had to get going before his teammates ratted him out tomorrow.

“Do you mind if I walk you home?” He asked, the drinks between you finished long ago. It sounded a little odd asking a stranger he just met if he could essentially follow her home, but he hoped he didn’t give off stalker vibes.

“I’d like that,” you replied with a smile. It sounded a little odd agreeing to let a stranger you just met have your address, but something tugged at your heartstrings and told you to take the leap.

When he dropped you off outside of your apartment, he had asked for your number. That night turned into a first date and that first date turned into many dates. Cale easily swept you off your feet, and it was even easier to fall in love with him.

After years of dating the wrong guys, of being burned and cheated on and lied to, the world had sent you the perfect man. A man with a soul equivalent to a thousand beaming rays of sunshine all wrapped up in perfect blonde hair and blue eyes and rosy cheeks.

He did everything for you. He sent you flowers randomly, surprised you with your favorite takeout, and took you on the most extravagant dates. You went to his games, house sat his plants when he was on roadtrips, and left him little notes in his suitcases to find when he was away. You knew within two months of dating that he was the one you were going to end up with. Cale was your forever.

There were no awkward phases in your dating life, no uncertainties or questions about what you were as a couple. Cale was as taken with you as you were with him, and you both knew what you wanted out of your relationship. It felt like you knew each other for years, like he’d always been there in the back of your mind, just out of reach and waiting for you to find him.

You didn’t know how much you believed in fate, but it felt like the universe made him specifically for you. He understood you like no one did and you could communicate with him without ever saying a word. If soulmates and other halves did exist, there was no doubt in your mind that Cale was your missing piece.

It was a year after you began dating that Cale invited you back home with him. He wanted you to spend a few weeks over the summer with him and his family in Calgary.

Cale was elated to introduce you to his family. He planned on marrying you one day, and he wanted everyone to meet the woman who’d stolen his heart. Everything about you consumed him: your hair, your eyes, your smile. There wasn’t a single part of you he wasn’t madly in love with and there was nothing about you he’d change. It was a long time coming, you going home with him, and you couldn’t be more excited about it.

He spent the first few days showing you around his favorite childhood hangouts, the rinks he used to skate on and the pizza places he used to frequent with his friends. He showed you his high school, secret hidden spot near a small lake, and the best ice cream shop in all of Calgary.

It was one day when you were walking through the old park you used to read where you shared your favorite spot.

“When I lived here, I used to spend every weekend under that oak tree,” you said randomly, pointing out to the large tree across the grass.

“Really? I used to rollerblade through this park sometimes. One day I completely ate shit on this path,” he chuckled, remembering the painful memory. “I sprained my wrist and arm. Couldn’t play hockey for three weeks.”

“How old were you?” You asked curiously, thinking back to the day you saw a boy fall.

“Sixteen, maybe?” He replied, brows furrowing in thought. You and Cale were the same age.

“This might sound crazy, but I think I saw you fall that day,” you said. Cale turned to look into your eyes.

“Were you the girl laughing at me under the tree?” He asked skeptically. The blush forming on your cheeks and the way you broke eye contact answered the question for you.

“It was you! I always thought it was rude how you didn’t offer to help me,” he said with a hearty laugh.

“To be fair, I was worried when you fell down. But then you got up and seemed okay, so I didn’t bother,” you said defensively.

“Still, you sat there and laughed at me while I bled on the grass,” he teased, slugging your arm lightly.

“Well, it seems that everything turned out okay for you,” you said, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, it did,” he replied wistfully, reaching down to hold your hand with his.

The two of you walked through the rest of the park, but your gaze kept flickering back to the center field where your tree sat, your brain replaying the daydreams you had about meeting your true love underneath that tree. A nostalgic smile spread across your face, and Cale noticed your suddenly cheery mood.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked, a playful grin of his own appearing. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you smile.

“Nothing,” you replied, keeping the tender secret to yourself.

+1

Three years later, Cale took you home with him over the short winter break he got while the All-Star Game happened. You walked through the park together, a tradition that you created ever since that first summer back.

The air was cool and crisp, the skies a beautiful shade of purple and pink against the blue background. He led you over to your favorite tree, pulling you from the usual path you took around the park. In all the times you’ve been to the park with him, you’d never actually taken him to sit under your tree.

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach at the feeling of being in your favorite spot with your favorite person. Your heart rate began to pick up as Cale dropped your hand to stand across from you, giving you a knowing smile.

When he took a step back, you felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes as if your heart knew where this was heading before your brain could process it. Cale lowered himself onto one knee before he pulled out a small velvet box from his coat pocket, opening it to reveal a diamond ring.

The fantasies you created in your mind all those years ago finally came to fruition that snowy day in January. All along you knew that one day you’d meet the love of your life under this tree even if you hadn’t realized it at the time, and you thanked whatever gods existed for the invisible strings that tied you to Cale.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

The Little Girl

[Gif credit to @vinylackles]

Square: Never Been Kissed ( @supernatural-jackles tell me a story bingo)

Pairing: Jensen x adopted!child!reader

Summary: The Reader is adopted by Jensen and his family after a tragic event in her life. Soon after being adopted, she begins to learn what a family really does.

Warnings: Angsty-ish, child abuse/neglect (implied?), religion is mentioned in here (if you have your own belief, that’s fine we’re all different. It’d be boring if we’re the same.), there will be feels in this both fluffy and sad. You might have happy tears, who knows. Song inspired fic, song fic since the lyrics are in this.

Word Count: 1,840

Bingo Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: Inspired by the song The Little Girl by John Montgomery. I can’t italicize the lyrics; it’d look a bit weird and mess with the flow of your reading.

a/n2: probably not what one would expect for a “never been kissed” square. But I kept hitting a block with the typical, and this one came to me. Hope ya’ll enjoy nonetheless. :3

~

Her parents never took her to church. Never spoke of his name, never even told her of his word.

Her parent’s weren’t really believers. Her dad drank all day, her mom did drugs. Every night her dad would go out drinking. Her mom would be passed out in the chair as Y/N sat on the couch watching TV.

They never wanted to play. Or give kisses and hugs.

And the drinking and the fighting, just got worse every night.

Behind their couch, she’d be hiding. Praying for it all to stop.

And like it always does, the bad got worse. With every slap, and every curse.

Until her dad in a drunk rage one night, used a gun on her mom. And then took his life.

Some people from the city, took the girl far away. To a new mom and a new dad.

. . .

The caseworker drove young little Y/N up to her new home.

“This family is going to be good to you.”

“Not like my old family?”

“Nothing like them, they’re new parents to one of their own kids. And once they heard your story, they wanted you.”

She sat in the back seat, smiling, wondering how it was going to be like? Who her mom and dad were?

He pulled up to the house, parking it and turning off the car. He gets out to get her things from the trunk, and he stops by her door to help her out.

She picked up her backpack, and turned to see a fancy house.

Suddenly feeling nervous, she swallowed and mustered up whatever courage she had and followed her caseworker to the house.

The caseworker rang the doorbell.

She could faintly hear a women on the other side. “She’s here.”

She sounded excited.

The door opened, she found a man, a woman and small girl standing before her.

“Hi, Chris?” the man asked.

“Yes, you must be Jensen?”

“I am, this is my wife Danneel and my four year old daughter JJ.” Jensen says, introducing his family. “This must be Y/N?”

She nods, shying behind the caseworker.

“It’s okay sweetie, you’re safe here. This is your new home?” Jensen says, getting down to her level.

“How about we have a little tour, warm up to your new family?” Chris, her caseworker suggests.

The little girl nodded, following Chris inside the house as Jensen showed her around.

 That night, dinner went off without a hitch. Sure she was quiet, but she was still a bit shy. But now it was the time for her and her new little sister to go off to bed.

She gone off to her room, getting her night gown on. Heading to her bathroom that her and JJ shared. Danneel helping JJ make sure she was brushing her teeth alright, Y/N grabbed her toothbrush and began cleaning her teeth.

Danneel taking a hairbrush she brushed the girls’ hair.

She could see Y/N tense. She didn’t know what she was doing at first. Danneel continued to brush her hair, cautiously.

She could see her relax as she continued to brush.

“Your parents never did this, did they?” she asked kindly.

Y/N shaking her head as she brushed her teeth.

Danneel held back warm tears that threatened to surface.

What else have these parents not done for her? she wondered.

Once they’ve finished they went off to their respected rooms. Danneel walking JJ to her room, JJ wanting a story. Y/N headed to her room.

She was about to get herself settled when Jensen and Danneel entered.

“Busy day so far, huh?” Danneel asked.

She nods. “mm-hmm.” She hummed quietly.

“Tomorrow we can have a lazy day, all four of us, just relax and maybe even play outside a little bit. The weather’s supposed to be nice.” Jensen says.

“What do you play?” she asks innocently.

“We could do, tag, or hide and seek, or whatever JJ comes up with.” Jensen chuckles.

“Could you teach me?”

“You never played before?” Jensen asked.

She shook her head innocently.

Jensen’s jaw clenched as he fought back tears of his own.

“We’ll teach ya tomorrow. It’ll be fun.” He says with a smile.

Bending over he gives her a sweet kiss atop her head. Danneel following suit.

She laid there staring up at them with wide eyes.

“Get some sleep sweetheart, you had a busy day.” Jensen says, brushing her hair from her face.

Y/N nodded. Feeling herself grow sleepy, she let her eyes fall closed.

Jensen and Danneel smiled softly as they shut her light off, left her door open slightly letting the hall light in. And went back down to the living room.

 It was getting close to Jensen and Danneel to head to bed themselves.

Just as he shut the TV off they heard a sniffle from the dark hallway. Seeing their new daughter stand in the hall, holding her blanket as she rubbed the tears from her eyes.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Danneel asked.

“What’s got you crying?” Jensen follows up, as they both got up to go to her.

“Bad dream.” She cries.

“Everything’s okay sweetheart, you’re safe.” Jensen consoles, rubbing up and down her arm.

The little girl nods but couldn’t stop crying as a slight tremble shook through her. Jensen felt it.

Jensen without hesitation picked her up, holding her close. Walked back to the couch, sitting down with her in his lap.

“What are you doing?” the little girl asked?

“You never been cuddled before?”

She shook her head against Jensen’s chest.

He only held her tighter.

“Well I’m holding you, making you feel safe. It’s something parents should do to help their kids feel safe after a nightmare, being scared, or even if their kid is having a bad day.”

She nods against him.

Danneel sat beside Jensen, sandwiching the little girl between them.

“It wouldn’t hurt to stay up just a little bit longer.” She says.

Jensen nodding as he places a comforting kiss atop their daughter’s head.

 The little girl slowly adjusted to her new family. Getting kisses and hugs every night. Even getting one from her little sister.

Fourth of July with the family was a struggle for a moment. The loud noises sounding an awful lot like gun fire.

She ran inside, crying.

JJ the only one noticing. She followed her big sister into the house. Finding her behind a couch in the family room, crying.

“Sissy what’s wrong?” JJ asked.

“It’s like the night my mom and dad died. It sounds like the gun he used.”

“Your daddy used a gun?”

Y/N nodded tearfully.

“Well our daddy is not like that. Come on sissy, come back outside.” JJ tells her. encouraging her to come with her. Only to get a fearful shake of her sister’s head. And more tears.

She let out a fearful sob.

JJ took it upon herself to comfort her big sister. She got behind the couch with her, sitting in front of her, she kissed the top of her sisters head while cradling it. Having short arms she couldn’t wrap her sister in her arms not like how her dad does.

“JJ?” Jensen calls. “Y/N?”

The stifled cries from Y/N gave them away.

Jensen found the couch where she hid, to find JJ holding Y/N’s head in a hug.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sissy’s scared of the fireworks.”

Jensen having the gut feeling he knew why she was.

“Why are you scared honey?” He asks anyway.

“It sounds like his gun.” She says with her head on her knees.

Jensen’s heart sank.

“It’s okay honey, we’ll get you through this. How about you hang out inside for a bit. Okay?”

Y/N nodded.

“We can play in here, or we can watch movies in the movie room?”

“Okay.” She says. JJ and Y/N getting up to the movie room and watching movies.

 The little girl made so many friends at her new school. One of her friends took her to church one Sunday for the first time.

Sitting in Sunday school, the teacher walked in.

The little girl saw a picture of Jesus on the cross.

“I know that man, up there on the cross.” She says.

“Oh?” the teacher asks.

She nods. “He was there in my old house, and he held me close to his side. As I hid there behind our couch, the night my parents died.”

She told the teacher her story. Her old mom and dad, tainted with sin, neglecting her.

“But everything is fine now. My new mom and dad, they give me kisses and hugs every day. We play almost every day. Dad plays on TV; he plays a guy who fights monsters with his brother. My dad is a hero.”

“What about your new mom?”

“She brushes my hair every night, her and dad make me feel safe. She’s dad’s sidekick.”

Some kids giggled. The teacher even chuckled.

“That’s sweet honey, how about for the first bit of class, we draw our superheroes. It could be Christ Himself, or your parents. Let’s do that and you can take it home to show everyone.”

The teacher let the kids be and draw away.

 Y/N’s friend’s parent’s dropped her off back home.

“How was church honey?” Danneel asked as she waited outside for her.

“It was good, we drew our superheroes in Sunday school.” She says holding up a picture. Drawn in crayon and marker.

Jensen walked through the door outside, stepping beside Danneel wrapping an arm around her.

“How as church kiddo?”

“Good, I was telling mom I drew my superheroes.” She says.

Jensen peered over Danneel’s shoulder. Seeing the same drawing.

Of stick figures, one with Dad under it, wearing a cape with an S on it. Symbolizing Superman.

He saw another stick figure, the word Mom under it. Wore a skirt and a cape with a S on it as well.

Under the both of their stick figures, she wrote in big letters as big as they would fit on the paper, Thank you.

Jensen walked around, picking up Y/N, hugging her close. Danneel joining in the hug as she hugged her and Jensen as close as she could.

“We love you so much sweetheart, and you’re most welcome.” Jensen says, holding back the tears.

She smiled against him as her parents held her close.

At first growing up, she never knew what it was like to be loved, to be given a kiss or a hug. To be cuddled, or let alone held in a loving and cuddling way.

Now she doesn’t have to worry about another fight. She doesn’t have to worry about her dad going off drinking, when he’s always home with his family. She doesn’t have to worry about her mom doing drugs to get through the day, when her mom just needs to see her girls smile, to hear her girls laugh to make her day better. 

~

a/n: Did you cry? Here are some virtual tissues, I cried too hun. How’d you like it, let me know! Feedback is always appreciated!

Jensen Girls:

@luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @mlovesstories, @moonlight-on-her-skin, @backseat-of-deans-67chevy, @salt-n-burn-em-all, @lyarr24, @akshi8278

Dean Girls:

@flamencodiva, @anotherspnfanfic, @megzdoodle, @misfit0118​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 4/11/2021

[333sth]

dove. (frankie morales)

chapter i. previous.

pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n.

warnings: mention of ptsd/military service, language, violence, brief mention of torture/kidnapping, injury detail, fighting.

summary: frankie was going to propose, until dove found the ring and ghosted. even santi can’t track her down.

rating: mature. wc: 1.6k

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Dove was a nickname coined by an old general during her training. He was a traditional man, though not disrespectful. It was a term of endearment that probably softened the influx of powerful women breaching into the male territory. He’d drawled, ‘I ought to call you Dove – I ain’t never seen a girl so swift, yet so fuckin’ lethal.’ She kept the boys in line too, he’d noted. When Benny got too reckless, or Tom’s temper ran away with him, she was the first to snap them out of it. In environments where peace was a very distant concept, she played the peacekeeper.

One time, during a two-month deployment in Nigeria, the group was shoved in the back of an ancient pick-up truck for six hours. Dove was wedged between Will and Frankie, sweltering in the humid air. The stale smell of sweat mixed with blood and diesel was permeating the air, and they were three hours from the nearest checkpoint. To pass the time, she asked them what they’d do if they weren’t special forces.

That was easy for Will – he’d be a teacher of some kind. Benny waffled about sports, making some brash comment about how he’s got to channel all his aggression somewhere. Tom and Santi couldn’t come up with anything that suited them more than the forces, which was not surprising. Frankie would still be a pilot somehow. Dove had never seen him more comfortable than in the pilot’s chair.

Dove dreamed of owning her own bar or café, somewhere relaxed and laid-back. A beach perhaps, somewhere quaint and peaceful, where the air is warm well into the late evening and the waves are gentle, collapsing onto the sand like white noise. She imagined the hum of conversation meeting tinkling music, beach lanterns dotted around the decking to cast an ambient glow beneath the stars. Maybe a chef on weekends could make bar snacks. Tom had snorted at that, throwing a jab about how she can burn the water they use to make their dried food sachets.

The men had recalled this conversation, desperately trying to fathom where Dove might have taken off to. It was met with an aching nostalgia for the type of teammate she was too. That conversation had been a tactic, a peaceful one, to prevent the terrible concoction of adrenaline, exhaustion and heat forming an argument in that truck. She was a natural tactician as well as a good friend.

Frankie had recounted each country they had been stationed and exactly how Dove had felt about them. She had loved Argentina, even when she got shot and Will spent three hours with his finger crammed in the wound to stop the bleeding. But she also liked Jamaica, Brazil and Hawaii. None of their contacts in the forces had any trace of her, not even Santi’s in South America. Her family were none the wiser – they brushed it off, her dad mumbling something about it sounding like her usual antics. 

All he had was a scribbled note that read, ‘I need space. I’m safe. I love you.’ It was folded neatly in his wallet, like he was carrying the last piece of her that he had. 

*

Mexico. That was where she was. A small town on the West coast that had enough life to keep her occupied, and the guarantee of anonymity.

If people asked, she was a retired nurse, which wasn’t entirely untrue. She told them she spent a lot of her career in humanitarian aid, to explain the occasional jitters on a rowdy Friday night and the nasty scars. There was a particularly gruesome one leading from the base of her throat up to her bottom lip from a knife fight. She told them it was shrapnel, flung from a collapsing building, and she was lucky it didn’t catch her jugular. The locals had gasped in awe at her heroism. She’d flinched against the memory of how her own knife buried into her attacker’s throat instead. 

A few days into her move, Dove had found what could only be considered a derelict shed on the beachfront. It was probably the remains of an old boathouse. With some help from the locals, she had restored the ageing planks of wood. What was spare formed the bar and some rustic furniture. She pieced together a jumble of second-hand bar stools, chairs and lanterns that made for an eclectic combination. It had character and history in its walls, rather than some swanky, expensive build devoid of any personality. It was exactly what she had dreamed of, huddled in hypothermic temperatures or insomniac in her cot at base, sleep beyond her reach.

It didn’t change the fact that every time she entered her bedroom, the old polaroid of Frankie pinned to the wall hits her like a ton of bricks. Frankie knows she took it – it was pinned to the fridge at their home before she left. It’s quintessential Frankie, sat with his arms folded to his chest, biceps straining slightly against an old denim shirt that was getting a little too snug post-retirement. It was at a barbecue, his skin tanned and flushed from a day in the sun drinking, tousled hair peeking out from the sides of a dog-eared cap. Every time Dove glances at it, she wonders if he still has that hat. 

‘Of course he has,’ the voice in her head snaps back. Any piece of clothing she’d suggest replacing would be countered with, ‘over my dead body’. The man was sentimental, a little too attached to his home comforts. She’d also bought it him in a seedy gift shop in the middle of nowhere as a joke. 

“To add some variety,” she’d said. He would never let it go now.

Once, Veronica had eyed the photograph on her mirror and asked, “Who is he then? An ex?”

Veronica, or Roni for short, had lived in the town her whole life until university. When she graduated and moved home to save money, she needed a job. Dove needed a friend, so she took her on as a bartender. She was young and giddy, but harmless. More importantly, she was too self-absorbed to notice or even care that her thirty-something year old boss had bullet holes in her back.

“Something like that.” Dove had replied, rifling through her sorry excuse for a makeup bag. She’d closed the bar early to have a rare night off in the next town over, which had considerably livelier nightlife. 

“You never talk about relationships. Or men.’ Roni observed, peering over Dove’s shoulder to eye another photograph. It was a group picture of the boys, huddled in the same fraying booth in their favourite bar back in Florida. “Looks like you were spoilt for choice.”

Dove scoffed, meeting her friend’s twinkling gaze in the mirror. “Shut your mouth. They were friends from work.”

“Were? Does that mean you can’t set me up now?” 

“They’re almost twice your age. You’d tire ‘em out.” Dove set down the lip-gloss she dragged out for special occasions. “Come on, I’m not getting any younger either. It’s already passed my bedtime.”

Thankfully, that was enough to amuse the younger girl into linking her arm and hauling her out the door to the taxi, no more questions asked.

*

The hollering of spectators and thudding of skin slapping against the mat was reduced to a distant buzzing in Frankie’s ears. It was dimmed by the incessant ramblings of Santiago and Tom, discussing the files Santi had put together on Lorea. He could feel the reawakening of his rusty military senses as he follows the familiar tactics, mentally registering his agreement or noting what he might do differently. He doesn’t vocalise it though, because he hasn’t even agreed yet. Joining the debate would inadvertently signal his agreement. He didn’t want that.

There was a shadow lingering in the space on the bench beside him. It was an empty presence, not Will, who was hooked on the cage of the ring yelling encouragement to his brother. Not Benny, thumping his leather gloves together with his teeth pulled harshly over his mouthguard, judging his competitor with a predatory glint in his eye. 

The opponent was a monster, but he lumbered like his limbs were filled with lead. Frankie notes that Benny, nimble and tall, will have a breeze tiring him out. Dove would have joked that it wasn’t worth coming, that they’ll be sat here until their asses are numb watching Benny play cat and mouse. His chest twinges. Sometimes it’s too easy to remember what she’d do, what she’d say. He wished he knew what she’d make of Santiago’s proposition. She always saw through Pope’s glamourisation and Tom’s greed. 

What Frankie misses while he observes his pitiful surroundings is Tom and Santi descending into a hushed conversation. Tom nudges Santi, “You got anything on Dove?”

Santi sighs, long and solemn, “Maybe.” As Tom’s face quirks in interest, he holds up his finger, “It’s just a hunch.”

“A hunch is better than what we’ve had in the last year.”

Santi takes a sip of his beer, casting a glance at Fish, whose eyes are trained on the floor and the swirling contents of his cup. He knows him well enough to know his thoughts are the only thing that have his attention.

“I worry about him. We all do.” Tom whispers. “Getting busted just made things worse.”

“Don’t get his hopes up, man. It’s nothing solid. It’ll crush him if I’m wrong.” Tom nods solemnly before Santi continues, “A friend of mine saw an ex-Delta in a bar, a woman. He knew ‘cause of a tattoo she had on the nape of her neck.”

Tom’s eyes widen. In front of them, Benny lands a sickening punch on his opponent’s nose, complimented by an audible crack. He’s barely breaking a sweat, dancing around as the guy heaves and stumbles forward. 

Santi’s gaze doesn’t break from the ring. “Mexico. I think she’s in Mexico.”