#fighting my way through this sale i swear

[chrrywvea]

AAAAAAAAAAAAA

LOSING MY SHIT RIGHT NOW

[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

Chapter One: I Know He's Crazy, But He's The One I Want

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking around, FLUFF, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Kissing, Barely any plot, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content,

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Happy “The Tortured Poets Department” release! I couldn’t help but shriek with joy when I heard But Daddy I Love Him. Literally, dad best friend Joel Miller coded. I would like to thank @wheresarizona for dealing with my spam in her messages from me as I was yapping about the new album and gushing over her writing; she’s literally one of the best writers ever. That is a fact and I will die on that hill.

This fic is heavily inspired by all of the dad's best friend books and dbf!Joel Miller fics I have read over the years. It is with great honor (and a lot of fucking fear) to present to you this Frankenstein of all of my fav tropes!

Heads up, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

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As you walk past the neighboring house, you observe the real estate agent meticulously placing the 'SOLD' banner onto the weathered for sale sign. A strange sense of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that someone has finally purchased the property.

Entering your home, you release a sigh of relief as the familiar comfort washes over you. With a casual toss, your keys and bag find their place on the hallway table. The urge to call out to your dad bubbles up, but it freezes in your throat when you're met with an unexpected sound drifting from his home office.

Your heart quickens as you peek inside, only to find your dad's best friend, Joel Miller, lounging on the plush brown lazy boy. His deep, resonant voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine even before you lay eyes on him.

Clutching the doorframe for support, you fight to steady your nerves. With trembling fingers, you manage to force a smile onto your lips, though it feels strained. "Hey, Dad. Hey… Joel," you manage to squeak, the mere sound of his name stirring a flurry of emotions within you.

The room feels stiflingly quiet as you wait for a response, the weight of Joel's gaze almost tangible. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as his intense eyes meet yours. His attention feels almost palpable, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends a rush of warmth through your body. With a low, almost imperceptible grunt of acknowledgment, Joel's gaze finally breaks away, leaving you breathless in his wake.

You try to avert your gaze out of sheer habit, but it's futile, like trying not to be drawn to the most captivating, exquisite sight in existence.

God, it's as if he's been carved from pure perfection, each time you lay eyes on him.

That same intense, brooding look he wore the day of your college graduation, late last year, still grips you. And it seems Joel's gaze has the same effect on your dad, eliciting a familiar reaction. With a quick double-take, your dad shoots a glance at his best friend before swiveling in his seat.

"Hey there, sweetheart, just catching up with Joel. He dropped by for a surprise visit," your dad starts, but he halts mid-sentence, noticing your undeniable reaction. Concern etches his features as he addresses you. "Honey?" he prompts, his voice laced with worry, as you struggle to find your voice for the umpteenth time in mere seconds.

Joel's gaze narrows, his jaw clenching as his intense scrutiny roams over you, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

As you cling to the doorframe, you can't help but notice the subtle movement of Joel's prominent Adam's apple, betraying his own unease.

Breaking the tension, your dad's nervous chuckle pierces the silence, attributing my apparent moodiness to your usual banter. He turns back to Joel, commenting on his friend's expression.

"What's going on with you two?" he quips, his tone shifting from light-hearted to serious in an instant. "Feels like there's some dirty secret between you," your dad adds, the jest evaporating from his voice. Yet, Joel remains unfazed by your dad's observation, his gaze still locked onto you as a faint smile curves his lips.

His lips curl into a smirk, accentuating the charming dimple that appears in his slightly scruffy beard whenever he smiles—a sight that never fails to tug at your heartstrings.

But as your dad's suspicion lingers in the air, Joel's demeanor shifts, yet you still struggle to connect the dots regarding why he's been giving you that look since graduation.

That day was meant to mark a pivotal moment in your life, celebrating the culmination of years of hard work in college. Yet, Joel's presence, the way he gazed at you, and the unexpected intensity of his hug during the congratulations... It's forever etched in your memory for reasons beyond the academic achievement.

And at the center of it all is one word: Joel.

He's a towering figure, a mix of solid muscle and the comforting softness of his belly. In the moment, you brushed off his tight embrace after receiving your diploma as merely the enthusiasm of the occasion.

But as you felt his whole body pressing right into yours during that hug, you knew it wasn’t your regular type of embrace.

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear. And though you didn’t catch his next words as clearly, you're certain he said something else that day. “…You feel so fuckin’ good….”

At least, that's what you've been convincing yourself he said. You recall gazing up into those big brown eyes, the same intense look he's giving you now, and wondering the same thing. How could an older, dangerously attractive man like Joel be even remotely interested in someone like you? Apart from being your dad’s best friend, he's more than twice your age and lives on the other side of the country with his daughter, Sarah.

You can almost picture the scandalized gasps of the single older women and ex-wives in your town, clutching their pearls and whispering, "What a mess," if you and Joel ever got together; if he was even remotely interested in you like that.

But you've replayed that scene in your mind every day since, and no matter how hard you try, there's just no denying your secret crush on him.

It all started long before college, your feelings for Joel simmering beneath the surface. Back then, you couldn't quite grasp what it was you felt for him. All you knew was that it felt right, and that feeling remains unchanged. Despite the nerves and shyness that being around him brings, there's another undeniable effect he has on you.

Like the overwhelming desire to sink back and beg him to indulge in things that his best friend's daughter probably shouldn't be fantasizing about. It's been a while since you last saw Joel, but he still exudes the same charm and looks even more handsome and fit than before, thanks to his job in construction as a contractor.

And when you receive that same look from him today, when your dad even jokes about his suspicions, you know Joel remembers that day too. The intensity in his eyes mirrors the moment he pulled you close, a memory etched as your most cherished moment so far.

"Well, I reckon’ my presence here might come as a bit of a surprise," Joel rasps, his gaze locked with yours as he emits a low chuckle for your dad's benefit. Unnoticed by your dad, Joel shoots you a sly wink, and you watch as your dad's tension melts away. He's relieved to know he wasn't imagining things, and undoubtedly thrilled once he hears Joel's news. "I'm moving here, right next door with Sarah. Tommy should be dropping her off here tomorrow," he announces with enthusiasm, but you feel the pit of your stomach drop.

Joel... here? For good? Oh, fuck.

Your dad erupts into loud whoops, raising both hands in the air. "It's about time, buddy! I knew you were keeping something from me," he adds, turning to you once again. "You were aware of this?" he asks, furrowing his brow with a hint of confusion. 

"You knew Joel and Sarah were coming to town, didn’t you?" Dad repeats, finally grinning like a child at the news. Smiling like a dad who's pushed aside any notion of his best friend showing interest in his only daughter. And you catch a sly grin on Joel’s face as he comes to your rescue. "Oh, I mentioned I might pay a visit. Buttercup here wasn't aware of the specifics or that Sarah and I would be relocatin’ back here," he explains to your dad.

But when Joel smoothly fibs to your dad, insinuating that you were aware of his impending move back to town, even though it caught you completely off guard, he seals an instant and secret pact between the two of you with a single glance. His deep brown eyes wink at you, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You realize you're in deeper trouble than you initially thought. And strangely enough, it's the kind of trouble you welcome with open arms.

In that fleeting moment, a silent understanding passes between you and Joel. With just a wink from him, your chest flutters with excitement, and a wave of anticipation rushes through you, leaving you feeling unexpectedly aroused at the prospect of having him nearby all the time. You're fully committed now, Joel's lie to his best friend serving as a shield for both of you, deflecting attention away from the undeniable tension between you.

"Sarah called last week," you fabricate, deciding to play along with Joel's deception. "As we were chatting, Joel mentioned something about visiting. It must've slipped my mind to mention it to you," you explain to your dad, hoping he'll buy into the white lie. Joel's low growl of contentment as he leans back, causing the leather chair to creak, reassures you that he approves of your little ruse.

Your dad's elation at the news of his best friend's return to their quaint little town is palpable, enough to overshadow any scolding he might have had for your omission about Sarah and Joel's supposed call.

But the truth remains: Sarah never called, and Joel's mysterious behavior is raising more questions than answers.

A surprise visit is one thing, but the intensity of Joel's gaze? The way he makes you feel? It's enough to give your long-standing crush on him a serious run for its money.

"But damn, Sarah will be here tomorrow?" your dad groans before chuckling. "A bit more notice would've been nice, but hell, it'll be good to see you, buddy."

"Listen, I've got something I can't postpone tomorrow. Maybe my daughter here could accompany you to pick up Sarah from the airport?" your dad suggests, turning his attention towards you.

Somewhere behind you, a strange sound escapes—it's you, emitting a sort of mewling noise that you know Joel catches, his smile widening in response.

"Sounds perfect," he agrees before you even have a chance to process it.

"Sweetie?" your dad asks, his tone sheepish now that he's volunteered you without asking if you were available.

You can only watch as the room seems to spin around you, nodding in agreement. "Yeah... sure, I don't have any tutoring sessions tomorrow."

"Perfect!" your dad sighs with relief, promising Joel they'll catch up later. "But I really need to get back to the shop. Are you alright here with her to help you settle into your new house with whatever you brought? The rest of your stuff hasn't arrived yet."

"Yeah, we'll be just fine," Joel assures in his trademark baritone, locking eyes with you.

You were so fixated on Joel's presence that you hadn't noticed the bags by the side of the home office.

"Sweetie? You sure you're okay to help? You look kind of..." your dad starts, but you take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before replying, "Yeah, I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I can help."

"Alright then," your dad grabs his car keys, ready to leave the home office. He gives you both a final glance, kissing the top of your head. "I'll be back for dinner. Have fun, you two!"

You and Joel remain frozen in place, him on one side of the room and you by the doorway, both listening to your dad's fading footsteps and the rumble of his truck as he drives away.

You’re so fucked.

It's been six long months since you last saw each other, and for Joel, it's felt like an eternity. The day of your graduation marked the first time he laid eyes on you in over three years, and it was as if he was seeing you for the very first time.

You've grown into a remarkable adult, and Joel couldn't help but feel the overwhelming need to be there, not only for his buddy, your dad, but also for his sweet Buttercup. Witnessing his little girl all grown up and ready to embark on her journey into the world with her diploma was a moment he'll never forget. He'd never seen his best friend prouder, yet his gaze lingered on you for entirely different reasons.

Reasons and desires that had never crossed Joel's mind until that day. He couldn't resist pulling you close, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his.

What was he thinking? Surely, everyone could see the effect you had on him.

But Joel wasn't thinking, he was acting on instinct. He was claiming what he knew belonged to him. Telling you he was proud of you was one thing, but he's still unsure if you heard what else he said about how good you felt in his arms.

Yet, he doesn't regret it. Because it was true then, and it remains true now. He just wishes he knew if you felt the same way. If you felt it in the same way he did. But how could you possibly feel the same way about him as he has about you these past six months?

Joel couldn't deny that there were many reasons why the relationship between you was complicated. For one, there was the age difference - you were more than half his age. Apart from having the kind of body he could grip, suck and fuck for a lifetime, additionally, you were his best friend's daughter, a bond that ran deep and could not be ignored.

That day, Joel took a risk, blurring the lines and potentially jeopardizing not just his friendship with your dad, but also the bond he shared with you by being so affectionate.

Surprisingly, you didn't seem to mind his gestures, and Joel was convinced that your dad hadn't even noticed. Despite the undeniable attraction he felt towards you, a feeling that lingered and intensified with every thought of you, Joel couldn't shake the worry that his actions might have caused a rift.

As days turned into weeks without any word from your dad, Joel's mind raced with doubts. He couldn't help but question if you had confided in your father about his behavior. Perhaps your dad had sensed Joel's infatuation with you, leading to a silence that spoke volumes.

Intrusive thoughts plagued Joel, wondering if you had been uncomfortable with his displays of affection. The fear that you might have someone else in your life to hold onto gnawed at him, leaving him restless and anxious about the potential consequences of his actions.

Joel and your dad used to share conversations daily, a bond that time and life's demands have gradually weakened, particularly with Sarah still navigating middle school. They both acknowledge the need to reconnect more often, yet something always seems to intervene.

But Joel's decision to visit your father in person wasn't impulsive; it was a deliberate choice, driven by a desire to stay for good this time.

No more fleeting visits. This time, it's permanent.

And it's all because of you.

Since your graduation day, you've occupied Joel's thoughts relentlessly. It's more than just an obsession; you're the sole focus of his mind, consuming his every waking moment.

You are the only thing he can fucking think about.

Joel would never dare voice his thoughts to your dad, not just because of his feelings, but also because your father had a history of using his fists to settle matters. If he even suspected a fraction of what Joel's mind was consumed with regarding his daughter... Well, Joel would never be allowed in your home, with your dad likely ensuring Joel carried a permanent reminder of his displeasure.

Despite his reluctance to keep secrets from his lifelong friend, Joel's motivation to act stems from a burning need that is beyond his mere desire to reunite with you.

He doesn't just want to see you again; he craves it with a fervor that borders on desperation. And the only way to satisfy this yearning is to summon the courage to ask for more.

Reconnecting with your dad was pleasant, but the sight of you, standing in the doorway of the home office, unleashes a torrent of emotions within Joel. It's as though he's been trapped in a deep freeze for the past six months, and your mere presence ignites a firestorm within him.

Every curve of your silhouette, every strand of hair framing your face, fuels Joel's desire until it simmers beyond control, all for you.

As you watched him, his gaze never wavered from your presence, taking in the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He was grateful for the chair that supported him, as he felt the insanely hard erection you gave him.

Your natural grace and beauty had left him breathless, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

All from just being yourself. All without you even trying to do anything. 

You really are just fucking perfect in every way.

You're now an adult, poised to embrace all the challenges and pleasures that adulthood entails. The mere thought sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through you once more, evoking memories of his touch on that unforgettable graduation day.

The intoxicating blend of his woodsy cologne, the creak of his well-worn leather jacket, and the soft fabric of his grey tee shirt against your skin linger in your mind, igniting a longing for more.

The sensation that floods Joel as he lays eyes on you in person after so long defies description.

It takes all his willpower to resist the impulse to stride over and scoop you up, succumbing to the overwhelming desire to claim you as his own and to drag you into your bedroom. But he restrains himself, clinging to the last shreds of his resolve, waiting for any sign from you that you're ready for his embrace.

When your gaze meets his, he witnesses the hitch in your breath, and he can't help but murmur, "Come here, sweetheart." Your response is like a magnetic pull, drawing you into his strong, steadfast arms. As you melt into his embrace, he's struck by the sense of finally being home. You are his home now.

Joel inhales the sweet fragrance of your hair, longing to whisper countless sentiments into your perfect little ear nestled so close to his mouth.

But all he can muster, without risking scaring you away, is a simple declaration in his southern drawl, "I missed you, my little buttercup."

You bury your face into his checkered flannel, your words muffled against his shirt as you confess, "I missed you too, Joel."

Your body instinctively gravitates towards his, fueled by both necessity and reflex. The memory of his last embrace has haunted your thoughts for the past six months, and as his massive, comforting arms envelop you once more, it feels as though you're picking up right where you left off. He feels even better than you remembered, and the mingling scents of his cologne and freshly laundered clothes stir a desire within you to cling to him forever.

Reluctantly, he releases you from the hug, clearing his throat as you take a small step back, managing to squeak out, “Do you want a cup of coffee before you get settled in your new house? You look kinda tired.”

“Sure,” Joel nods, and you sense him hovering behind you as you descend the staircase and enter the kitchen. You can feel his eyes tracing your movements from behind.

You busy yourself preparing the coffee as Joel sets his things down, knowing it'll provide the perfect opportunity to sit down and have a proper conversation.

As Joel takes a seat at the table, his gaze remains fixed on your curves as you move around the kitchen. In that moment, he realizes there's no way he can stay in this house for more than an hour, without confessing his feelings to you.

“You got a boyfriend?”

The sudden question nearly causes you to spill hot water all over your hand, and you freeze, feeling a slight tremble coursing through you.

“Well?” Joel's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, as if you're caught in the midst of the most exhilarating earthquake imaginable. Your mouth hangs open, unsure of how to respond.

“Boyfriend or not?” he repeats, his tone commanding. “Not,” you answer instantly, not minding the question one bit, especially when you see its effect on Joel.

“Good. Perfect,” he rumbles in a low tone.

Turning back to the kitchen counter, the clinking of ceramic cups fills the room, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as the heat spreads throughout your body and to the tips of your ears.

“Cream and sugar?” you ask, turning your head just long enough to inquire.

The sight of your body shifting under your clothes already ignites fantasies in Joel's mind, imagining all the ways he could pleasure you, even right there on your dad's kitchen floor if you desired.

“Joel?” you prompt, breaking him out of his daydream.

“Uh… Sure. Cream and sugar,” he echoes, noticing your continued blush and slight trembling as you prepare the cups. As you approach him with the coffee, the sudden sound of your dad's voice startles you, causing you to drop one cup, which shatters on the floor.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face as he rushes to the sink to run cold water over the affected area.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really," you reply, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"I thought you were gone," you add, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I just forgot something. I came back to get it," your father explains, his eyes darting nervously between you and Joel.

Your father's gaze is fixed on Joel, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Joel's obvious concern for you. Anyone could see the way Joel feels about you, and your father's disapproval is palpable.

But you're not a child anymore, and you're tired of your father's disapproval. "Dad, I'm fine. You just startled me, that's all. Why do you always have to sneak up on me like that?" you ask, trying to keep the anger out of your voice.

Joel opens his mouth to speak, but the words don't come. He sighs and shakes his head, gathering the pieces of the broken cup and tossing them in the trash on his way out. The sound of his car speeding away speaks volumes.

"Maybe I should go," Joel suggests, but you wave off his concern.

"Don't worry about my dad. He's been weird ever since I graduated from college," you say, dismissing his concerns.

But Joel knows that your father's suspicions go back further than just this morning. He moves to help you clean up the mess on the floor, ignoring the broken glass and coffee spill. Gently, he takes your hand in his, wincing at the stinging and burn.

"Let's get this under some cold water," he says, leading you to the sink. You lean back against him as he guides your hand under the icy flow, your body yielding to his touch.

"Feel better?" he asks, his voice low and soothing. You nod, leaning into him as the cold water soothes your burn.

Joel's heart races as he holds you, feeling your warmth against him. He knows that your father doesn't approve of him, but he can't help how he feels. He's fallen for you, hard, and he's not going to let your father's disapproval get in the way.

"It feels better now," you whisper, your breath sending shivers down Joel's spine. He moves closer to you, feeling the pressure of your back against his aching cock.

"I can't help but notice how your body is responding to mine," Joel says, his voice low and husky.

"Should we start over?" he asks, leaning down so his mouth is close to your ear.

"You mean with the coffee?" you ask, playing coy. But your body is telling a different story.

"I mean starting over without your dad around," Joel clarifies, moving his hand to stroke the back of your neck.

You turn to face him, looking up into his deep brown eyes. "Just stay," you say, biting your lip.

Joel nods, his hands resting on your hips. "I'm not going anywhere, darlin'," he promises. "I'll be right next door, whenever you need me."

You stand there, close enough to kiss, but Joel holds back. He wants to savor this moment, to make it last.

"I meant what I said that day you graduated," Joel whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You feel so fucking good."

His words send a jolt of electricity through your body. You feel his arousal pressing against your back, and he grips your hips, pulling you closer.

You plead with Joel to stay, not just because of how the morning has unfolded but because deep down, you need him by your side.

The words you long to say to Joel linger on the tip of your tongue, but the rush of emotions leaves you speechless. Your heart races as you grapple with the intensity of your feelings, unsure of how to express them.

As you run your hand under the cold water, trying to steady your nerves, you suggest preparing the spare room as a distraction. Anything to divert your thoughts and feelings that are swirling inside you.

The tension between you and Joel crackles in the air, the unspoken desire palpable. His longing mirrors your own, creating a charged atmosphere that leaves you both on edge.

"Is your hand goin' to be okay?" Joel's voice is laced with concern as he looks at you, and you nod in response.

"It's just a minor burn from the coffee," you murmur, trying to focus on the task.

"Shall I make us more coffee?" Joel offers, already cleaning up the mess on the floor. But your attention is drawn to the undeniable presence pressing against your back, sending a rush of sensations through you.

Your heart races as you realize the extent of Joel's desire, his arousal evident in every inch of his being.

"I'm not tired," Joel says, his voice low and intimate as he picks up the broken pieces of the mug.

"And I meant what I said earlier," he adds, his tone dropping to a husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

The intensity of the moment overwhelms you, making it hard to focus on anything else. You should feel embarrassed, and remind him of boundaries, but the magnetic pull between you is undeniable.

"What did you mean?" you ask, a hint of defiance in your voice, craving his words like a drug.

His lips curl into a knowing smile as he repeats his earlier statement, his gaze lingering on you suggestively.

"You feel so good," Joel says, his words sending a surge of heat through you, your cheeks flushing with desire.

"Is that why you came back?" you inquire, emboldened by the charged atmosphere between you.

"What do you think?" Joel replies, closing the distance between you, the space crackling with unspoken promises and desires.

You feel trapped, torn between your desires and the weight of your past.

Your hands tremble as you press them against Joel's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You slide your fingers down, curling around a button on his flannel shirt.

"My dad, for Sarah," you croak, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath your touch.

"I didn't come back to town just to see your dad," he says, his voice low and steady. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable either."

He pauses, taking another deep breath before he continues. "What I mean is, what I'm tryin’ to ask you, is could you have feelings for an older man? A man like me, maybe?"

His eyes bore into yours, a half-smile playing at the corners of his lips. You know what he's asking, and your heart races at the thought of giving in to your desires.

"I want to hear it from your lips," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine.

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "I like you a lot, Joel," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel pauses, his eyes never leaving yours. "But?" he prompts, giving you an out if you need it.

You look up at Joel, your eyes pleading with him to make the decision for you. But there's no hesitation in his gaze. He leans in, pressing his warm lips against your hand, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through your body.

"Does it feel like this?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the heat that's building inside you.

"Do you really want me, darlin'?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You moan, unable to contain your desire any longer.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice barely audible. "Yes, I want you."

Joel growls, a low, primal sound that sends shivers down your spine. He presses your hand against his stiff erection, and you can feel the heat and hardness of him through his jeans.

You trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, forgetting all about the burn on your hand, the hot coffee, and even your dad and his house. All that matters is the feel of Joel's body against yours, the heat and hardness of him that you've longed for since graduation day.

"Then come here," he growls, leaning down further and taking your face in his palm. You shudder one last breath of uncertainty before the warmth of his mouth over yours means neither of you will ever have to ask that question again.

Joel's lips are soft and tender, but his kiss is urgent and demanding. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding to his touch with a hunger you've never felt before.

His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour, as if he's been waiting for this moment for years. You respond in kind, your hands tugging at his flannel shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

The heat between you builds, until you're both panting and gasping for breath. Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you dizzy with desire.

Joel can't help himself as he lifts you up and sets you down on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around him as he devours your mouth with his own. His hands roam your body, feeling the curves and contours of your figure as if for the first time.

You respond eagerly, your hands tangled in his hair as you deepen the kiss. Joel's touch sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself growing wet with desire.

Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you gasp with pleasure. You arch your back, pressing yourself against him as you feel his hardness against your thigh.

He makes you purr and moan, fulfilling every fantasy you've ever had. Your hands move down to his throbbing cock, gripping and squeezing him through his denim, but you both know this is just the beginning.

Joel has already crossed the line he set for himself, unable to resist the pull between you. He wants more than just a physical connection; he wants all of you, your heart, your soul, your everything.

He envisions a future with you, a life where you're by his side, where you're free to be yourself, to indulge in every desire and dream. He wants to give you a home, a place where you can be truly happy, where the two of you can explore each other endlessly.

As you catch your breath, Joel eases his hold on you, sensing the need for a moment of clarity. Your smile and the flush in your cheeks speak volumes, reassuring him that you're on the same page.

"Holy shit," you exclaim, breathless and exhilarated. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the strength and warmth of him beneath your touch.

Joel exhales slowly, realizing he may have moved too quickly for you. "Too much, darlin'?" he asks with a chuckle, relieved when you giggle and nod in agreement.

But he sees the worry in your eyes, the need for understanding and space. You grip his flannel, pulling him close for a quick kiss, your words a mix of desire and uncertainty.

"I want this... I want you, Joel. I do," you confess, your voice filled with longing and hesitation.

"Just... not right now, not like this," you trail off, and Joel finishes your sentence, understanding the need for time and space to process everything.

He lifts you off the counter, noting how light you feel in his arms. He watches you pace the kitchen, a mix of emotions playing across your face. He settles on a stool, giving you the space you need to sort through your thoughts.

"I didn't think you were leading me on, and I didn't mean to be so forward," Joel says, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time, process everythin’ darlin’.”

Joel's phone buzzes in his back pocket, and he knows it's your father. He takes a deep breath and answers the call, trying to sound casual. You've stopped pacing but still look dazed, as if you're trying to process what just happened between us.

"Hey, man," Joel greets, hearing your father's voice from his car, still on his way to the office.

"Joel, I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I guess I'm the one who needs a nap, but I can't afford the time right now," he says, sounding sincere.

Your father has always been honest and upfront, and Joel feels a mix of pride and guilt as he listens to his apology. He knows that your dad will be upset once he finds out about the two of you, but until then, Joel thinks it's best to keep your secret a little longer.

"You don't have to apologize, buddy," Joel says, trying to reassure him. "When do you finish work today?" he asks, already thinking about the time they have left alone together.

More time to take things slow? Joel isn't sure. He wants to savor every moment with you, but he also can't wait to explore every inch of your body.

As your father continues to talk, Joel watches you, his mind filled with thoughts of the two of you together. He knows that things will get complicated soon, but for now, he's happy to be in your presence, to feel your warmth and energy.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Joel says, ending the call and turning to you. "Are you okay?" he asks, taking a step closer to you.

You nod, still looking dazed, and Joel wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He knows that the two of you have a lot to talk about, but for now, he's content to hold you, to feel your heart beating against his chest.

The future may be uncertain, but Joel knows one thing for sure - he's never felt this way about anyone before, and he's not about to let you go.

As Joel holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you finally voice the question that's been lingering between you.

"I guess we can't do this sort of thing around my Dad, huh?" you ask, your voice soft against his skin.

Joel strokes your hair gently, his heart full of emotions he never thought he'd feel again. He marvels at how easily and perfectly this moment has unfolded, how right it feels to have you in his arms.

"We probably shouldn't, not yet," Joel replies, his voice tinged with longing. He feels you nod in agreement, and he knows that keeping this secret will be a challenge.

Joel had left town to escape the past, to build a new future for himself and his daughter Sarah. But now, as he returns to the place where it all began, he realizes that his future is intertwined with yours.

He sees a future with you, a life filled with love and possibility. He dreams of a family with you, of building something lasting and meaningful together.

As he holds you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your body against his, Joel knows that this is just the beginning. 

As you and Joel waste no time getting settled in the new house, the air crackles with anticipation. Joel turns the key in the door, and as you step inside, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of desire.

Without a word, you set down his bag, and Joel takes your hand, pulling you close. He lifts you effortlessly, spinning you around in a dizzying whirl of passion and need.

The lock clicks shut, sealing you both in a world of raw desire and longing. The house feels like a sanctuary, a place where only you and Joel exist, at least for the next hour or so.

"Aren't you gonna show me around first? I had no idea the inside was so nice," you giggle, your head spinning from the intensity of his touch and the day's events.

"I thought you might like to show me around... your sweet fuckin’ body," Joel rasps in your ear before claiming your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. Each touch, each kiss, ignites a fire within you, driving you to the edge of reason.

"You tell me if it gets too much, alright darlin'?" Joel murmurs between kisses, his strong arms wrapped around you. You nod eagerly, your body craving his touch, his presence.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, you gravitate towards the nearest soft surface, a luxurious leather sofa in the living room. Joel stops in front of it, but you're consumed by the need for him, the hunger for his touch.

You try to nod, talk, and kiss him all at once, but the overwhelming desire he stirs in you leaves you breathless and unable to form coherent words. "Yeah... fuck... yes, I will," you pant, your body arching into his touch as he explores every inch of you.

Joel lowers you onto the couch, his eyes fixed on you with a hunger that matches your own. He drops to his knees in front of you, parting your legs with a firm grip, his gaze locked on your body with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

“I’m gonna eat your little pussy, make you come until you beg me to stop,” he says in a firm tone.

His hands move with purpose, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you. You gasp and groan as he explores every inch of you, his fingers and tongue setting your body ablaze with pleasure.

As he delves deeper, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, you feel a wave of pleasure building within you, each touch pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You writhe and moan under his touch, your body responding to his every move with a hunger that matches his own. The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, the air thick with desire and need.

His elbows prop your knees wide, and half-reclined on the worn leather, you can't help but feel a thrill at the sensations coursing through your body.

The scent of old leather and his cologne mingles with the musk of your arousal, creating a heady mix that only heightens your desire. You're ready for Joel, and you know it won't take long for him to bring you to the edge.

With a rough yank, he tears your panties aside, the sound of fabric rending adding to your arousal. You never knew you could feel this horny, and every moment with Joel only intensifies your desire.

He takes a moment to admire your slick folds, his thick fingers gently parting your lips. You grip his silver-flecked curls tighter as he moves down to taste you, your body trembling with anticipation.

Your moans fill the room, mingling with Joel's deep groans of pleasure. His tongue finds its mark, and you can't help but cry out, your body writhing under his touch.

Joel's mouth covers you completely, his tongue replacing his fingers as he explores every inch of your sex. You're on the brink of climax, your body trembling with need.

"Be patient, darlin'," Joel whispers hoarsely, his voice filled with desire. He grips your thighs, pushing them wider apart until his massive head is pressed between them.

You shift your grip to his broad shoulders, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Joel... Joel," you moan, trying to tell him how close you are, how much you want him. But all that comes out are animalistic sounds of pleasure.

Joel's body quakes with silent laughter, his voice deep and reassuring as he promises you can come all night. You trace the outline of his jaw, your body trembling with need as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

If heaven exists, you're sure you've found it in Joel's arms.

AN: I'm such a fool to think that this would be a one-shot... ya'll this is now a mini-series. Don't worry... this will be a two to three-chapter kinda series. 🤍

[jo6hny]

Neighbor - Hazel Callahan

Pairing: College! Hazel Callahan x College! Reader 

Contains: fluff, kissing, slight angst, everyone knows you like each other besides the both of you, drunk hazel,  reader being an idiot, hazel being an idiot, sylvie and isabel mentioned.

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: A very drunk Hazel Callahan stumbles upon your dorm room thinking it was hers. What happens when your crush and next door dorm neighbor wriggles her way onto your bed? 

A/N: This was written for the anon that requested it! I hope you like it <33 also, sorry if the description of college is inaccurate, i’m not american !! Requests are open! 

Knock Knock. 

The sound of the knock interrupts your reading. Curious, you get out of bed to see who it is. The comfort of your bed and the book in hand long forgotten as you made your way to your door. You rarely get visitors and your roommate, Sylvie, barely ever knocks. She’d usually just barge right in regardless of what you were doing. 

“Hi neighbor.” The brunette greets you on the other side of the door with a smile and a small tupperware dish on her hands. It was Hazel, the girl who occupied the dorm room right across yours. She looked good today. Scratch that, she looked good everyday. There was just something about Hazel Callahan that was charming and adorable.

“Oh, hi Haze.” You smile, greeting her back. “What you got there?” 

Hazel extended the dish towards you and said, “This is for you! There were some leftover brownies from the bake sale yesterday and I thought I’d give you some. I would hate for my beloved neighbor to starve.” 

Your smile grew wider at your neighbor’s gesture. If you weren’t so blinded by hunger, you would have thought that she’d given these to you because she liked you. Not that she did, though. Hazel seemed to be friendly with everyone. And, well, she always seemed to deflect your advances. 

“Aw Hazel,” You cooed, taking the dish from her. It felt hefty, the dish didn’t just contain a few pieces of brownies, it had a lot. Your heart swelled at the gesture.“Thank you so much! I’ll give you something back, I swear.” 

Hazel shook her head at this. 

“You don’t have to. You always do nice things for me, anyway.” She gave you a dimpled smile. Well, that is true. But it was a two way thing between you and her. Always watching out for each other, especially whenever there were inspections. 

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint how you two became close, or well, acquainted. But you knew it was because of Sylvie. She and Hazel were best friends, have been since highschool. Sylvie always told you about their “fight club” back then and how it was a women empowerment thing that saved their school from…football players? The details weren’t exactly clear, especially with how fast your roommate talked. Anyway, you meet Hazel through Sylvie. They’d always hang out at your dorm or Hazel’s dorm, whichever was available. You didn’t mind when they were at yours, they usually just geeked out about weapons and bands and all that shit. Plus, Hazel was easy on the eyes. You could look at her all day if you were being honest. Her hair was dark and soft and always so fragrant. You imagined what it was like to run your hair through her locks, how it’d feel between your fingers. And her eyes were to die for. They were like opals in the sense that they shifted colors ever so often. Most of the time they were blue, but there were times when they’d look silver or green. All of these traits (and more) were what made her so enchanting. 

“Well, no worries, Haze. We look out for each other.” You reply, putting a hand on her forearm. It wasn’t obvious, but Hazel’s breath picked up when you touched her. Because unbeknownst to you, she actually did return your feelings. The tension between the two of you was apparent to everyone except the two of you. Sylvie knows it, Hazel’s roommate Isabel did too. Basically everyone on campus did. 

“So…” You trailed off. Hazel was too distracted by your touch, her mind was elsewhere. “Um, are you going to that frat party later?” 

The blue eyed girl snaps out of her trance at your question and nods. 

“Oh, yeah! I’m going with Isabel and Sylvie. Are you?” 

“I can’t.” You sigh, slightly disappointed. This was supposed to be an opportunity for you to spend time with Hazel (and Sylvie and Isabel, of course). 

“Oh.” Hazel said dejectedly. You picked up on your neighbor’s tone at your reply.

“Sorry, Haze.” You apologize, squeezing her forearm. This caused the brunette to short circuit again. “I have to finish reading this book for my lit class.” 

“That’s-That’s okay.” She replied, feeling uncool at the way she stuttered. 

“Maybe we can hang out another time?” You said, hinting at a date with her. 

Hazel nods at your suggestion. “Yeah! We can bring Sylvie and Isabel too.” 

A frown forms on your face at her suggestion which you quickly wipe off and replace with a smile. 

“Yep. Sure.” You said, not feeling too enthusiastic. Was there something wrong with you? Did she not like you? You didn’t get why Hazel kept rejecting you. 

“I’ll see you, then.” She replies, walking back to her dorm room across from yours.

Back at the comfort of her room, Hazel slaps the palm of her hand on her forehead. It only just registered to her that you wanted to hang out with her without Sylvie and Isabel. 

“Stupid.” She muttered, letting herself dramatically fall onto her bed. The brunette groans at her inability to take cues. It’s not that she didn’t want to be with you, it’s just that she had a hard time taking in what you say sometimes. It was hard for her to discern things especially when you were in front of her. Hazel sometimes wished that she were normal. Normal enough to notice the little things. If she were, you  two would have gone out by now. The brunette groans again at the thought and buries her head in her pillow.

────────────────────────────────────────────

Finally onto the last chapter of your book, you decide to rest a bit before moving forward. Closing your eyes, you ease into your mattress a bit and let your head fall onto your soft pillow. A few more minutes you would fall asleep, the book forgotten. Sylvie seemed to have found herself back into your shared room as you heard the door being pried open. Weird though, she didn’t seem to make any noise as she entered. Usually she’d announce her entrance and make herself known. Oh well, maybe she had too much to drink. Back to resting. 

“Mmph.” A voice that wasn’t your roommate’s grunted across the room from you, the voice wasn’t Sylvie’s. This alarmed you and your head was filled with thoughts of danger. Your mind recalled all of the instructional videos you watched on self defense and you were counting on your brain to remember all the necessary steps when it came to it. 

Taking a careful peek, you notice that the stranger had made themselves comfortable in Sylvie’s bed. They were facing the wall so all you could see was the back of their head. The person had dark brown hair which flowed down to the base of their neck and they had a boyish cut. 

“Oh my head hurts so bad.” The stranger groaned. Recognizing her voice, you realize that Hazel was the intruder. She turns and wriggles around the bed which also helps you confirm her identity. 

“Hazel!” You exclaim, trying to get her attention. She must’ve thought that she was in her dorm room. The brunette didn’t seem to register your voice and continued wriggling around the bed. 

Slowly, you approach her and look at the situation fully. Alcohol reeked through her clothes and there she was in all her drunken glory sprawled all over Sylvie’s bed. Hazel Callahan, your biggest crush, was in your dorm room. The two of you were as close as neighbors could get but you’ve never been alone with each other.  You weren’t sure what to do. Should you wake her up? She seemed out of it, though. You’d assumed that Hazel was the type of person you’d need to drag around back to her own room because of how hard it would be to wake her. Plus, she may not look like it, but Hazel had some serious weight on her. The memory of seeing Hazel in a tank top with her toned arms flashed in your mind and you had to physically shake the thought off before you could get any more flustered.  Deciding against taking Hazel back, you took it upon yourself to gather a bottle of water and some meds (which you keep just in case) to her. 

“Hazel,” You nudge her softly. This caused her to stir a little. “What are you doing here, bub? You got the wrong room.” 

“What?” She replied, opening one eye and scanning the room. “Oh you’re right. This isn’t my bed.” 

Hazel starts to stand and get off the bed much to your disappointment and relief. What she does next surprises you, though. The brunette then decides to plop herself down on your bed and make herself comfortable. 

“This is better.” She mumbles, pulling the comforter up to her chin. 

“Oh, that’s not…” You say unironically. Racking your brain on the best possible move, you ultimately decide to just let the blue eyed girl be. There was no harm in letting her sleep for the night in your bed, right? 

Wrong. Hazel kept pulling you into bed with her until you lost your footing and gently crashed on top of her. Your neighbor quickly used this to her advantage and wrapped her arms around you, securing you in her hold. 

“Hazel, buddy, wake up.” You whisper, trying to get yourself out of her tight (but comfortable) grip. If you had it your way, you would reciprocate the cuddle but she was drunk and she wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. 

With your free hand, you continuously poke the brunette until she got irritated and opened one of her eyes to look at you. At this, she smiled and uttered your name. 

“Hi, pretty. What’re you doing in my room?” She muttered, patting your hair. 

“It’s not your room, Haze.” You whisper, trying to hide the blush that was forming on your cheeks. Your body felt warm. 

“‘M pretty sure it is.” She mumbled, closing her eye again. Hazel seemed comfortable like this. Like she’d imagine doing this before. It had you thinking about whether or not she thought about you too. 

Ridding your head of the thoughts, you decide to give in. There was no waking your neighbor up and you were pretty tired too. Sighing, you relax your body and try to sleep all the while racking your brain on what to tell Hazel tomorrow. 

You’re awoken by a groan from your intruder neighbor last night. Hazel must be awake. Taking a look, you realized that you were now facing your wall and Hazel’s arm was wrapped around you as she nuzzled her nose into your neck from behind. The thought of your position made the blood on your cheeks warm up. 

“What?” You hear her mumble. Hazel rids her nose off your neck and sees that you were on the receiving end of her hug. You could feel her physically freeze at the sight. Deciding to break the ice, you faced Hazel and gave her a smile. 

“Hi.” You whisper, scared that if your voice was louder you’d freak her out more. 

“H-hello.” She whispered back, unsure of what her eyeballs were seeing. At that, your neighbor rubs at her eyelids to make sure you weren’t an illusion. 

“You okay?” You ask as you sit up. You reach over your dresser and hand her the water bottle and meds from last night. “Here, drink this. It’ll get rid of the headache.” 

Reluctantly, she sits up and takes it from you. Hazel looked lost, like she couldn’t believe what was happening in front of her eyes. Still, she took the meds and ingested it. Her head was killing her and she wasn’t going to reject being saved by an angel. 

“Is this real?” She asks as she finally speaks her thoughts out loud. 

This earns a giggle from you and Hazel’s heart picks up at the sight and the sound of your laughter. God, you were so pretty. Especially with you on her bed, well, it was your bed but that’s besides the point. 

“I’m pretty sure it is, Haze.” You reply, fidgeting with the blanket on your bed.

“Did we?” She trails off, her eyes wide. Hazel clasps her hand over her mouth in an attempt to cover up her gasp. 

“Oh, no! No, Haze. Nothing bad happened, don’t worry.” You reply, putting a reassuring hand on her lap. “You just got lost is all. Got the wrong dorm and you thought my bed was yours. You were pretty drunk.” 

“Oh, alright.” She replied, seemingly disappointed. Hazel wasn’t very good at masking her emotions and you could tell that she felt bad about something. 

“If it matters to you, I wasn’t mad or anything. You can stumble here drunkenly all you want.” You reassure her. The last thing you wanted was to scare your crush off because she found herself on your bed after a seemingly wild night. 

“And I didn’t say anything weird?” She asked warily. Hazel didn’t trust herself whenever she was intoxicated. She didn’t have a filter whenever she drank and she was scared out of her mind that she yapped on to you about her feelings. 

You shake your head at her question. “No, you’re all good. Though you did call me pretty.” 

Hazel’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. 

“It’s true.” She said. Ah, maybe she was still a bit drunk. Hazel mentally facepalmed at how she just openly admitted her admiration of you. This wasn’t how she imagined it going. In her head, Hazel confesses to you after a big life changing moment. Not this, not after drunkenly stumbling into your room.  

“I think you’re pretty too, Haze.” You whisper, leaning in closer. This is it. You were going to kiss and confess your feelings. Happily ever after. The thought made your heart race.

Hazel jumps at your action; her eyes were wide with surprise. Did you read it wrong? Oh god, you just made her uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry.” You blurt out, hands wailing all over the place. “I didn’t mean to, I thought we were flirting. I’m so sorry, Hazel.” 

Hazel does a double take at what you said. The wires in her brain were all flaring up and her eyebrows furrowed. 

“You were flirting with me?” Hazel asks, confusion taking over her senses. She never thought that you’d be into her. Well, maybe you were. She wasn’t good at seeing signs. Sometimes it felt like you were flirting but her brain tries to push it off. She didn’t really see why you would want to be with her, to be honest. Some of the trauma from highschool carried on til this day and it’s something she has trouble with. 

“I have been for the past six months, thanks for noticing.” You mutter, breaking eye contact with the brunette. All your confidence disappeared. You felt dumb for ever thinking that Hazel would feel the same about you. She didn’t even know you were flirting. 

“I’m sorry.” She says as she hesitantly takes your hand. “I didn’t know. Well, a part of me did. It’s just that I’m bad at this.”

“No, Haze. I’m sorry too. I should have been direct with you, to be honest.” You interlock your fingers together and squeeze her hand. 

“For what it’s worth, I do like you.” She replies. Your breath hitches and your mouth is agape ever so slightly. Hazel Callahan just confessed to you. 

“Oh my god.” You exclaim, freaking out. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to return the feelings. I just wanted to let you know.” Sweet Hazel, again, wasn't reading between the lines. But you didn’t let this bother you. 

Taking her face in your hands, you decide to plant a kiss on her soft lips. Your neighbor was surprised at this but eventually melted into the kiss. It was everything you dreamt of. Hazel’s lips were soft and gentle. She kissed you with such yearning, like she’d dreamt about this moment too. 

“Dummy.” You say, exasperated. “I like you too.” 

Hazel smiles and the dimples on her cheek peeks out. Suddenly everything was quiet in her mind and the only thing she could think of was you. The brunette took your hand and kissed it, a declaration of her love and her loyalty. She couldn’t believe it. This moment was bigger to her than anything ever before. You were the quiet in her mind and the roar of her heart. 

[runningfrom2am]

you’re losing me - r.c

summary: after standing, unwavering at Rafe's side while you took and lost the gold and the cross over and over again, you've finally had enough.

tags/warnings: angst, established relationship (rafe x reader), song fic (you're losing me, taylor swift), unedited, some swearing

wc: 1k

i feel like this is so shit bc i don't ever do oneshots but i had too bc this song is just too good- taylor swift has done it again ladies and gents

you stand at the front door of your boyfriend of seven years childhood home with an overnight bag slung over your shoulder. you haven’t been here in months, and it feels like forever. it doesn’t even feel like a home to you anymore. neither does he. you spent a long time contemplating whether to throw out everything you built together, or keep it. eventually you decided.

you take a deep breath as you bang your fist against the door, exhaling as you step back from the door and look up onto the balcony. within seconds, you see the familiar face of your boyfriend, peeking over the edge, a phone held to his ear and with his free hand he holds a finger out to you, signalling he’ll be down in a second. you nod as your eyes fall back to the door once he disappears.

“babe, what are you doing here?” rafe asks as he slings the door open, a nervous smile crossing over his face.

you step past him into the entrance of tannyhill mansion, turning to face him.

“you left me in guadeloupe, in a big empty house with nothing to do but wait for you to come back and you never did!” he freezes for a moment at your outburst before regaining his composure, shutting the door.

“i know, i’m so sorry, love, but i’m handling some business here for my dad- you know that.” he explains, reaching out and resting his hand on your shoulder.

“you’re dad actually sent me.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “and i see there’s not even a for sale sign on the front lawn, so really, what have you been doing?”

he rolls his eyes, simultaneously dropping his hand back to his side. “listen, i’m working on it, okay? there’s a lot to do, with the money and the cross and the gold and-“ you cut him off.

“stop!” you shout, louder than you probably intended but after weeks of hardly hearing a word from him, texts and calls going unanswered, you need him to hear you. to see you, again. you find yourself frustratedly holding your hands up next to your head. you open your eyes and look at your boyfriend, hardly recognizing the man in front of you as he stared back in shock. “enough about the stupid gold and that stupid cross! i just- i can’t take this anymore!”

“you weren’t saying it was stupid a few months ago when you helped me pull it out of the fucking ocean- and, and you didn’t say that when we got robbed at gunpoint by my sister and her stupid look boyfriend over that same gold. so don’t tell me, now, that you think it’s stupid. we almost died for that, y/n!”

“rafe, stop.” you say, calm even as he shouted back at you. at least he’s here. at least you’re talking. “you’re losing me.”

“what?” his voice is softer now, and the expression on his face tells you he’s reeling over this information. after everything you’ve been through together, everything you’ve risked and lost over this gold, he couldn’t lose you too.

“i can’t do this anymore.” you explain softly, shaking your head and looking down at his shoes. “what happened to us? we’re hurting people. i know that’s not right, but i was always doing everything for you. fighting only in your army- i just assumed we were always doing what was right but i saw the way those kids look at us. we’re monsters to them, rafe.” your eyes lock with his again as he shakes his head. “and you’re just ignoring me now. what we had is long gone.”

“no- no. i’m- we’re doing this for us. once i melt down that cross and sell it i’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. everything we’ve fought for, it’s yours. i promise.” he insists, grabbing your shoulders and rubbing them reassuringly.

“i knew you took the cross…” you chuckle, but it lacks humour. “don’t melt it down. it belongs to pope and his family in rights, we should just give it back.”

“you’re not hearing me-“ he starts, but you cut him off again.

“no, you’re not hearing me.” you say, shaking your head. “you’ve changed. i’ve changed. we were good people, and i can’t live with myself if this is who we are now. i can’t keeping hurting people because of you, over money. it’s so stupid.”

“i don’t understand…” he says, staring deep into your eyes, his own widening at what he knew you were insinuating.

“i know you don’t.” you smile sadly in return, reaching up to cup his cheek in your palm. “you are not the boy i fell in love with in middle school. and i am not that girl anymore either. i gave you all the best versions of me, i was always here for you, but you don’t reach for me anymore.”

“no- no you can’t leave me now.” rafe says in protest, his blue eyes welling up with tears. “it’s almost done. we’re almost done and everything will go back to normal.”

you softly sigh. “i don’t think it can. i’ve shown you signs for months now- that i wasn’t happy. and every time you gave me this same speech.”

“no, y/n, i love you. you know that.” he says, grabbing your hand now and pressing your knuckles to his lips, bruises there faded while your nails had been bitten down until they bled. until this last year, he had never seen you without a fresh manicure.

“i know.” you whisper. “but i just can’t.” you shake your head, pulling away from him and stepping back towards the door.

he stays silent, watching you as you stop before you grab the handle. “say something.” you say, refusing to look back over your shoulder. the air is thick with the loss of this relationship- and rafe’s never-ending indecision.

“i don’t know what you want to hear.” he mumbles his reply.

“i only wanted you to see me.” you reply, looking back at him now. “if you choose me, then we can talk.” you say, walking out and closing the door behind you.

rafe stands in the foyer, breathing heavily as he thinks about what he should do. what he has to do.

it’s you, or the cross.

[ist4rgirlo]

─ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 - 𝐜.𝐟 : 𝐕𝐈𝐈

Summary: Now that your life has turned upside down, are you still willing to put your siblings' feelings first? Or would you rather fight for your feelings and do what makes you happy regardless of the consequences that might result in the future?

Prev ; Next || Conrad Fisher x fem!reader || My blog

Warnings: S2 SPOILERS! swearing, yelling, fluff, physical touch (lmk if i missed anything!)

SEQUEL TO BEFORE EVERYTHING HAPPENED

───────────────────────────

The day after the party

"Susannah would never forgive you for abandoning your boys! She would never even believe-" I heard Belly say on the other room followed by a slap that made me immediately wake up and stand on my feet - walking towards the room Belly was in but she was already there, in the hallway - holding her face. Jeremiah and Conrad was also outside of their room, their face filled with concern.

I tried to reach for Belly but she just pushed my hand away and continued to walk downstairs. I walked towards the room to see Laurel there, a hand on her forehead, "What just happened? Did-did you just?.. why are you here?" I asked, crossing my arms - leaning on the doorway. Laurel looked at me, "Oh look, you are here too." she sighed, I scratched my head - still hangover from yesterday "Mom all of us are here" I looked at her.

“That's right! And no one informed me of this? You are one of the oldest, why didn't you at least warn me? You could have said something to ease my concerns, but you did not! "I had to hear it from Belly," she yelled, "Mom, please give us a break." I commented, "She wasn't the only one who was drunk, we were too. We went through so many things, mom, I know you were concerned, but please do not scream this early." I asked, "Okay but doing this isn't going to solve anything! Why didn't you stop them?" Laurel complained. "Mom, I needed it too okay? everyone needed it, you can't blame us."

I heard Conrad come into the room "Laurel, we're sorry. Please just don't blame Y/N. We're all at fault here" Conrad explained. Laurel just looked at him before sighing, deciding to go downstairs. I sighed, as I was about to go to my room to clean up, I felt Conrad's hand grab mine, "Are you okay?" I nodded, "Thanks, but I could’ve handled it on my own" I said, I saw his brows furrow, my tone probably sounded different - he just sighed, ignoring my tone - it was too early for all of us.

He just let my hand go, I walked towards the bathroom to clean up. After that I went to my room to put some new clothes in. I decided to go downstairs, I saw Laurel looking around the house, Steven and Conrad cleaning around, "What the hell?" she said, making Steven turn around - shocked to hear his mom's voice, "Mom?", "I-I drive all night just to find.. this?" she said, her voice shaking. "I'm just glad your mom isn't here to see what you guys did to her house" she said to Conrad. I walked towards her, grabbing her shoulder gently.

"Mom you didn't have to say that." I told ger. "I want this place spotless and for every single thing of Susannah's to be put back exactly where it belongs. If even one is broken or missing, I swear to God!" she pointed at the house, Steven sighed "Mom, we weren't the one who moved all of her stuff" he said, "It was Aunt Julia" I explained, "She's the one who emptied it, not us. To sell it" Conrad shrugged. Mom's brows furrowed, confused.

She shook her head no, "But I thought Susannah already talked to her lawyers. She said she already talked to Julia before things got bad" she explained, making our brows furrow. I walked towards her, "Why didn't you tell us? Conrad had to find out from a 'for sale' sign in front of the yard!" I complained, explaining everything to my mom. "I just assumed they resolved it before Susannah.." she shook her head, looking down "Well mom, it wasn't resolved." I shook my head no, sighing.

Laurel looked at Conrad, "Connie, does your dad know?" she asked, "Of course he knows! And of course he's done nothing at all to help us!" Conrad yelled, "Yeah, that's why the guys and Belly came here." Steven explained, "They were trying to working something out with Aunt Julia themselves" She sighed, biting her lip, “And?” she asked. Conrad raised his hand, “and we failed”

We told her how Aunt Julia already sold the house. “But like you said, at least my mom’s not here to see it.” Conrad whispered, walking away. “I know I fucked up” Steven said, looking at Laurel. “And Belly too, even Y/N, we all know that mom. But at least they were here” Steven said, walking away. Laurel looked at her, hesitating to say something, I just shook my head before going to the pool.

───────────────────────────

I went to go to the backyard to just dip my feet in the pool. I felt Conrad sit down beside me, nugding me a little bit, “You okay?” he asked, looking at me — “I should be asking you that” I said, looking back at him, moving myself away from him gently. His brow furrowed, noticing how I moved away from him, “Are-are we okay?” he asked, placing his hand near my hand, I nodded. “Yeah? why wouldn’t we be?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, it just feels like.. you are being distant” he looked at me. I shrugged, “I don’t think so, Conn-“ he sighed, placing his hand on top of mine, “Please don’t make me feel stupid Y/N, I know you are” he said - his voice filled with worry, I pulled away gently, standing up, “I promise you, I’m not” I said chuckling before walking inside the house.

Despite the fact that Belly and I have already discussed this, I can’t help but view them differently after learning that something had happened to them. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in a bad light, it just makes me uncomfortable knowing that something happened to him and my sister.

I can feel Conrad walking behind me, he reached for my hand — grabbing it gently “Can you stop running away from me?” he pleaded. I turned to him, my brows furrowed “I am not running away from you, Conrad.” I said, pulling my hand away. “Y/N, just tell me what’s wrong, I’ll do everything to make it right, okay?” he said genuinely, I shook my head no, “There’s nothing to do, Conrad. What you and Belly did was special.”

He looked at me confused, “What are you talking about?” he asked. “I already know Conrad, last Christmas.” I said, looking down. He felt his stomach drop, he didn't regret it, you were supposed to know sooner or later but he wanted to be the one to tell you about it. His gaze softened, "Y/N come on that was from the past", I shook my head, "Still, I can't do anything to top that love you had with my sister. She’s still my sister, Conrad." I said, "It doesn't have to be that way, there's no need to top it off. We can create something much more beautiful, Y/N. Just please choose yourself now, please let this happen." he pleaded — reaching for my hand again, making my brows furrow.

"What? where is this coming from, Conrad? what do you really want from me?" I asked, my eyes narrowing - I was genuinely confused why he was telling me all of these stuff. "Please don't play stupid with me, Y/N. You have known from the start that I am in love with you, and I still am. Every time I see you, the feelings come back. I feel the urge to tell you constantly, every time I touch you, every time I hug you. I just can't find the courage to express my feelings to you. Just let me do this, let me love you."

In response to his confession, I walked towards him, pressing my lips against him. As a result, I was surprised to feel him smile into the kiss. I pulled away, looking at him, chasing my lips, which caused me to chuckle hysterically. "God, Connie. What do I do with you?" I asked, holding his face in my hands. He shrugged, shaking his head gently, smiling at me, "You don't have to do anything. Just stay by my side, always" he said, I bit my lip before nodding. He pulled me in again, pressing his lips against mine, kissing me one more time.

───────────────────────────

After Laurel talked to Belly, she went inside of the house to find all of us huddled together "I owe you all an apology, you guys have been there for each other and I have not, and for that I am deeply sorry." She said, "Y/N I apologize for putting all the blame on you. I never intended to do this. I guess it was just because of my emotions. You know how much I care for you right?". She said, walking up to me and hugging me.

“All of us have made mistakes, Mom," Belly said, looking at Laurel, making her nod, "It might not be possible for me to change anything, but I will make every effort to speak to Julia and get her to change her mind." She nodded. The entire family sighed, relieved that Laurel was here to save the day. Steven rubbed Laurel's shoulder as he walked up to her, hugging her and thanking her. In order to prepare for Aunt Julia's arrival, we decided to clean up and make the house look less dirty.

After a while, Taylor decided that it was her time to go, so she went back using Steven's car. Aunt Julia soon arrived, "Oh my god" her face filled with worry as she walked towards the living room to the kitchen, "Hey Julia, thanks for coming." Laurel greeted, Aunt Julia looked at her. "Can we have a chat? while the kids clean up?" Laurel suggested, Aunt Julia walked up to her nodding as they both went outside.

TIME SKIP

It was finally decided, Aunt Julia is finally pulling out of the sale Mom managed to talk to her and persuaded her to just give the boys the house since it was much more important to them, but we still could not celebrate because their father had to buy the house first before the boys could officially own it.

After sighing with relief, we returned to cleaning. As Conrad put the garbage away, I noticed Belly following him. She had been meaning to speak with him ever since we talked on the beach, and she always wanted to clarify things with him so I could understand. It wasn't necessary for her to do it for me, but she insisted nonetheless. The decision was for the best, she explained.

In the end, they embraced before returning to the house, and I saw Conrad look at me, hoping that I would ask him what had happened, but I just nodded and smiled then went up the stairs to my room. It wasn't long before their dad arrived, Aunt Julia had already informed him that she had changed her mind. "Okay, well, let's get something straight here, I'm not letting them lose anything, so don't make me the bad guy," their dad said when I reached the bottom of the stairs. As I entered the living room, I found all of them huddled together with the exception of Aunt Julia, Laurel, and Adam.

Conrad was about to go to the kitchen when Jeremiah went and grabbed him, "Let someone else try to solve a problem for once." Jeremiah said to Conrad. “I just want you to move some money around to buy the house for them” We heard Laurel suggest, “What?” Adam asked, confused, “I think I’m gonna go now-“ Julia scoffed “Why is it that the boys were trying to save this has more than you have in the last several weeks?” Julia said, pointing at him “Adam-“ — “No shut up Laurel, you don’t have a say in this” Adam said cutting Laurel off making my brows furrowed.

As I was about the walk towards the kitchen, Conrad grabbed me gently pulling me back, looking at me before going to the kitche himself, “Where do you get off saying shit like that?” Conrad asked Adam. Adam looked at him before looking at Laurel and Julia, “Do you think railroading me like this would make me change my mind?” he asked them, Laurel sighed, crossing her arms, “Excuse me, but fuck you” Laurel said. “Look.. Suze wouldn’t want us fighting like this!” Adamn pointed.

Conrad shook his head, “You wouldn’t know what she would want, you lost her a long time ago!” Conrad yelled, “Can’t you just stop it? and see what it means to the boys?” Laurel suggested. Adam looked at Conrad, “Look I thought it would be easier this way, to let it go” he said. Conrad’s brows furrowed, raising his shoulders, “Well easier for you” he said to Adam. I walked towards him, giving him the comfort. I reached for his hand holding it, I felt his hold tighten.

“Is this really what you want?” Adam asked looking at Jeremiah and Conrad, they both nodded. “Okay then.” he smiled at them, nodding. We all looked at each other, smiling. I felt Conrad look at me, sighing in relief. I pulled away from him, smiling, before walking towards to Laurel to hug her.

───────────────────────────

The house was theirs, our special place was back in our hands, and we couldn't have been happier about it. We all went out, it was time for Skye and Julia to go. “Well I am one call away okay?” Aunt Julia said to the boys, Conrad nodded “Thank you for everything” he said, Aunt Julia smiled at them “I am very glad it worked out” she said. “We should get going too” Laurel suggested, referring to us three. Jeremiah cleared his throat before suggesting if we can stay here for one more night, to help Conrad study for his finals.

“Dude you know I’m 18 right? like I don’t need permission from my mom to study” Steven said, I nudged him, scoffing “What do you mean? I’m older than you and I still need permission, shut up” I chuckled, Steven looked at me then looked at Mom, seeing her eyes narrow at him, “I need my mom’s permission to study” he said, nodding. We all just chuckled. “Laurel please? they won’t let me get into Stanford if I don’t pass this finals” Conrad pleaded. My brows furrowed, “You really got in?” Belly asked, Conrad nodded before looking at me smiling.

As I ran up to him, I hugged him tightly and whispered 'congrats' before pulling away. His hand wrapped around my shoulder, rubbing it. Laurel nodded and decided to go to the motel Aunt Julia suggested. We all went inside to study for Conrad's finals.

We heard Belly clap, “Okay!! Should we start studying?” she said, giddy. “Come on, Bells. Let’s rest first” I suggested patting her on the shoulder, Conrad hummed, agreeing. She looked at me in defeat, nodding. As we were all about to walk to the living room to take some naps, I felt Belly pull me along with Steven, “Okay, not you guys. I need your help” Belly said, “What? just take Steve with you” I whined, “Noooo take Y/N with you, let me goo” Steven complained. Still we ended up driving her to the near mcdonald’s.

TIME SKIP

It was already five which meant that it was time for the boys to get up and study. Belly woke them up using a spray and just pouring half of it on Jeremiah’s head just to wake them up. They all walked towards the kitchen, gasping with all of the food that they saw. “Alright, this is how it going to work. Conrad studies, he gets a burger” Belly said, “What about me?” Jeremiah asked, “Conrad studies, you get a burger” After Belly said that, Jeremiah immediately went to sit down and grabbed a book and started studying, making Belly chuckle, following him.

I felt Conrad look at me, I looked at him raising my brows, “So this is like a reward system huh?" he asked me, tilting his head, I nodded. I felt him walk towards me, his hand sliding on my back, pulling me closer to him. I felt his hot breathe near my ear, "What else do I get?" he asked, pulling away, smiling at me. "Study and you'll see" I looked up to him, poking his chest gently, he just smirked before placing a kiss on my cheek.

Making me slap his chest in return, I turned when I heard Steven gasp, I saw him already looking at us. I tried to push Conrad gently but failed, Conrad pulled me in more, nuzzling his face on top of my head. "WHAT IS GOING ON?" Steven asked, his brows raised, I shook my head. Conrad pulled away, walking towards Steven to give him a high five, making me chuckle.

I saw Belly looking at me, she was smiling, raising her brows at me. I just shrugged and smiled back before walking to the seat next to Conrad, helping him study. Everything was fine, everything was back to normal. The house is finally Conrad's and Jeremiah, me and Belly cleared things out, her and Conrad too, me and Conrad came back to normal, our bond became much more than it used too. I like it, I do. It makes me genuinely happy to see all of us happy.

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[mint-yooxgi]

Until Your Lungs Give Out - Prologue

Yandere AU & Dystopian AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Sci-fi, Dystopian

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 1,331

Warnings: Minor violence mentioned. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I blame @anyamaris for feeding my ideas, and thus helping me create this. I plan for it to be almost a mix between Resident Evil dystopia (movies, specifically the third) and My Chemical Romance Danger Day's dystopia world. With robots! I really hope you all enjoy this little teaser hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist

The crackle of static sounds through your headpiece. The low hum of electricity surrounds you, what’s left of the city’s lights flickering above you as you race down the deserted streets. The heart of the city is a dangerous place, no matter how abandoned it might be. You’ll risk it any day of the week. 

You have to. There’s no other choice.

Long since has the world gone to shit. 

No, no major disease wiped out the planet. No virus that caused people to become the living dead, either. Humans are very much still alive, though their numbers dwindle every day, replaced by the Bots of Life, guaranteeing that people can never truly die. 

These androids are so lifelike, that you cannot easily tell the difference between them and humans unless you are looking for them. Emotions, memories, habits - they are all the same. 

Life Bots, another term for these machines, require a human host. Millions of underground facilities have been made to house the Sacrifices - unlawfully named, in your opinion - for the Bots of Life to thrive. All that’s needed is a specialized pod and a mind link, and humans never have to age again. They can live vicariously through their android counterparts, forever.

Great sale’s pitch! If humans actually got a choice in the matter… 

What’s left of humanity fight to survive, living in hidden suburbs and scraping to get by every day. Every Life Bot is programmed to deliver humans to their intended Sacrificial Pod, destroying what’s left of the living world.

No more hunger. No more strife, chaos, or pain. Only order, and peace.

All things which are easier said than done.

An interesting side effect early Life Bot integrators noticed was how suddenly, members of their family which had undergone the Sacrifice seemed to lose all previous autonomy. The Creator made sure to emphasize his ideals into the Bots of Life, nearly forcing every human associated with one to make the change. He wanted total control over every living human, holding their lives in the palms of his hand for his own gains.

Naturally, the humans rebelled.

War broke out, and now all that remains of the earth above sea level are wastelands. Deserts span more areas than they used to, cracked, dry earth giving way to dead zones not even the Life Bots dare to traverse.

Still, there are those unlucky enough to be forced to live above ground without any protection, unable to have afforded to buy their way into the luxurious underwater cities or air fortresses that had been massed produced for the majority of the upper class and wealthy in society. Those left behind are stranded, lest they be forced to become a Life Bot of their own.

That’s where you come in.

You are one of the last few survivors in this division who still remains on earth, fighting for the human’s survival. Looking out for the stranded is what you do best, and you’ve made taking down Life Bots look like it’s child’s play. Which is exactly why you’re racing to answer the distress call you’ve just received not even a mere five minutes ago. There seems to be one human in particular that keeps sticking his nose into trouble looking for spare parts and supplies. It’s starting to get on your nerves, for he also seems insistent to flirt with you every chance he gets.

Only this time, he’s not alone.

When you originally latched onto the signal, you heard at least three distinct voices calling for help. The noises in the background indicated a fight, so there had to at least have been two more people with them, holding off the Life Bots at the time. You just hope you make it before someone gets hurt. Or worse.

Revving the engine to your motorcycle, you pick up your speed. The distress call came from just around the corner two more blocks up, and from the littered corpses of Life Bots you can see lining the street, you know a fight has just taken place here not that long ago.

Rounding the corner, you skid to a halt.

The screeching of your tires on the asphalt draws the attention of the small group of about eight males that seems to be surrounded on all sides by a small hoard of twenty Life Bots. A few hold makeshift weapons, like broken pipes and a rusted crowbar, while two hold Laftas, specialized stun guns made for subduing the Bots of Life. One practically cowers on the ground amidst the circle of survivors, covering their ears and shaking uncontrollably as his friends surround him as best they can.

The moment you hop off of your bike, you notice a familiar male’s eyes light up, hope dancing on his features. A smile begins to stretch across his features.

A click of your helmet, and it retracts from your face, practically disappearing from sight.

“I told you she would come!” Wooyoung, your resident damsel in distress, and certified pain in your ass, cheers.

“Yeah, yeah,” the tall one with what appears to be a sniper riffle strapped to his back, rolls his eyes. “If we manage to get out of this alive, remind me to give you one of my chocolate bars from my hidden stash.”

The way Wooyoung’s eyes light up even further says it all.

“Can’t go one day without getting yourself into trouble, huh, Gopher?” There’s an almost teasing lilt to your voice despite the disappointed sigh you heave as you spring into action.

Drawing your katana from your back, you unholster your Lafta.

“Guilty.” He chuckles, shrugging lightly.

You get to work, slicing through the Bots of Life as if they were made of silk rather than metal. With your opposite hand, you manage to shoot every target you set your eyes upon, cleaning up this mess in no time. Once finished, you make a show of twirling your sword a few times before sheathing it, shoving your gun back into its holster with a firm thwack.

“There,” you send a firm nod in their direction. “Get yourselves someplace safe before more of them return. I don’t like making multiple pitstops for the same people in the same night.”

You turn around, moving back over towards your bike before a voice calling out to you from behind halts you in your tracks.

“Wait!” 

You spare the unfamiliar male a glance over your shoulder. He seems to have somewhat shaggy black hair, a black and red leather jacket covering his torso. A red birthmark rests beside his left eye.

“How can we ever repay you?”

You offer him a tight smile in return, noticing how more than just Wooyoung seems to be staring at you with wide eyes filled with awe.

“Keep yourselves out of trouble, and you won’t have to.”

The one crouched on the ground finally stands back to his feet. He rests a trembling hand on the shoulder of the male closest to him, who is also wearing a black and red leather jacket, but in a slightly different style.

“Really,” his voice comes out shaky, staring at you through thinly wired glasses. A tattered beige cardigan rests over his shoulders, a stark head of bright blue hair falling over his forehead and almost covering his eyes. “We should be able to do something.”

You huff slightly to yourself in amusement, finally crossing the last few steps to your motorcycle.

“Don’t worry about it.”

With a smooth movement, your leg is tossed over the seat, the engine revving to life. A click to your ear, and your helmet has rematerialized.

A final nod is sent their way before you’re racing back down the street, on the hunt for any more distress calls that might come your way for the night.

That is the last they see of you for two weeks, until your entire worlds come crashing down.

[soulc-hilde]

Ch. 04 - Fight, Fight

Pairing: Jey Uso / Josh Fatu x Aries / Ezmeralda Bey

Synopsis: Devoted to her craft and her family, WWE Superstar Ezmeralda has a library of accolades accomplished on her own and by the side of her family like never before. As she leads the Women's Revolution to glory, romance seems to find her at the most unexpected moment... in the ring.

Warning(s): SFW, OC is a black woman, swearing, WWE-canon violence, Non-scripted fights, body shaming, body insecurities, WWE's consistant misogyny is blatant until later chapters, etc.

Cross-posted: Wattpad

Ch. 01 | Ch. 02 | Ch. 03 | Ch. 04 |

Kansas City, MO 

Today before the show, a few of the girls were set out to do an autograph signing. Ezmeralda had taken the opportunity to ditch the scene for some time with her brothers in the ring. The trio run through their drills, going over their move set before taking a quick break. 

"So why ain't you out there with Trin and 'em?" Ezekiel questions, sipping some of his water. 

The youngest triplet shrugs, "we already sell a shit ton of merch as is and I love seeing the fans, but I'm not all for having to dress up and flaunt my body in hopes the sales can put more zeros on our check."

"I hate to say it, but sex sells. Especially as a woman who is being broadcasted and is participating in sports, your body is at least 90% the main concern of the fans and the company. 5% is your knowledge of the craft and the other 5% is your skill. If your face doesn't 'sit right' with them or body doesn't look like this girl or that girl, you either gotta change it or get lost."

"When my brothers and I first started, that was a huge thing going on in WWE. The women, the Divas, were nothing but eye candy. Yeah, they'll do a little this and a little that, but at the end of the day, your sex is what earns the company money while the 'big dogs' get to have their fun and be rightfully paid for doing their jobs."

"Just like in the past and just like now, my body is for myself to enjoy. It's not for everybody and I don't feel comfortable." 

Ezra sighs, irritated. He, himself, has always hated whenever Talent Relations would ask her to play roles that suggested her as nothing more than eye candy or a bed warmer. "Fuck that, let's talk about somethin' else before I get heated."

"What's up with you and Joshua?" He side-eyes her, studying the way her face scrunched at the question. Ezmeralda's lips purse, pushing out into duck lips as if she was a child all over again. She points at the elder Bey, mimicking their great uncle's accent.

"Le'me... Le'me tell yu somet'in'," they burst into laughter. She stutters through her laugh, "me and Josh... are chillin', ye know? We're gettin' to know each other some more."

Ezekiel reels back, face scrunched, "'gettin' to know each other?' Girl, y'all been knowin' each other since like 2008. What else y'all need to know about each other?"

She kisses her teeth, "that's why I said 'some more' dumbass."

"Look," Ezra shakes his head, "all I know is that Josh is like an extra little brother. You? Are my little sister, okay? Both of y'all are my favorite, but I'll be damn if you play with his emotions and he plays with yours, especially with us working together."

"We've talked about it just a little. He understands that I don't have experience in this field and I want to take it slow. I want to learn about myself and my love language before I just go jumping in his arms screaming: 'I'm yours!'"

Ezekiel side eyes her, pushing his palms towards her. "Girl, too much. Too much. We you're brothers, not your girlfriends, nye. All we needed to know was that y'all were taking it slow like Bobby Valentino. That was all." 

She giggles, heading for backstage. "Where you headin'?" Ezra raises an eyebrow. She looks over her shoulder, "Checkin' on my outfit for the night. Your girl gotta look good, ya dig?"

"Aye, can you check on ours, too?" Ezekiel shouts, hanging upside down on the ropes. Instead of answering, Ezmeralda simply shakes her head. 

As Ezmeralda was looking over her outfit, Trinity steps up to her with a scrunched face. "Girl," she trails, collapsing beside the older woman. "Guess what Ariane's pestering about now?"

Immediately, Ezmeralda's face drops as a heavy sigh leaves her chest. "Oh, God. Does that woman ever stop?" 

Trinity snorts, "of course not. So, we're getting ready for the signing when the Bellas and Ariane begin talking about the size of their boobs, especially Nikki's. We get to the booth, Nikki's pushin' them things up as if they weren't already spilling out and Ariane's trying to do the same like, it hurt to watch."

She pauses, "that's when she goes: 'I'mma go to an appointment.'" Ezmeralda's jaw drops, "because Nikki has big boobs?!"

Trinity shrugs, nodding, "basically."

"Nat has big boobs, so big that it looks as if she's pushing them up when she's not and yet look at how the company treats her," the veteran scoffs. "And don't get me started with the fact that the recovery process might set y'all back. It's a stupid decision." 

"Typically, the Divas compete with one another for screen time and climbing the ranks for popularity in the company. One of the biggest things that comes into count is the appearance of them. If they look more like a model or some type of dream woman, you have a step in the door."

She shakes her head, "I've seen women in the business go in and out with several different surgeries on various difference spots of their bodies. I don't really care if they do it, but I always say that it's better to do things for yourself than for others. If it makes you happy? Do it until your heart bursts, but please never do something to make someone else happy cause they never will be."

Los Angeles, CA 

Tired of Ariane's growing bullshit, Trinity had volunteered Ezmeralda as the tag team's third party to the opening of a boutique. Not one for boutiques, especially high end ones or having to dress up on her day, she came up with an ultimatum. She'd go as long as she could bring a 'date,' which was really supposed to be her fellow escapee. 

And who better to invite than her slow burn lover, Joshua?

Dressed in a creme, off the shoulder top and a short, brown skirt with a thigh slit paired with a matching set of brown leather knee high heels and a brown purse, Josh had unintentionally matched with her.

Similarly, the younger Fatu took on a slick yet casual approach, dressed in a creme crewneck and matching jeans with a custom pair of brown and creme low high Air Forces - a birthday gift from yours truly.

The duo walks behind Trinity and Jon, their faces taking on a natural mean mug. It was no secret that Josh was an introvert and preferred socializing on his own terms rather than smiling in the face of strangers everyday.

For Ezmeralda, she was to stand in the public with one interview after another since she was one of the many household names of the company; although, that didn't mean she was willing to do it for free and on her off day.

"Jon, Josh," Ariane's boyfriend, Vincent, calls over his shoulder. "Get your swag on. Swag on, baby, there you go."

Immediately, Josh and Ezmeralda side eye one another. Nearly laughing her ass off, Ezmeralda shakes her head and keeps walking.

"Wait, babe," Ariane stops Vincent, "um, so, you're gonna stand right here. And we're gonna work it." 

Ariane looks over at Trinity and Ezmeralda, "come on, girls. Let's work."

Trinity begrudingly steps forward, pulling the older woman with her. As the three stepped closer to the boutique's entrance, the small group of paparrazzi begin to take photos of them. A few primarily focusing their shots on the veteran posing out of of her element.

Blinded and overstimulated, Ezmeralda walks past them and heads for the door. "I'm'a head inside, y'all," she states.

Ariane quickly tries to pull her back, "no, girl, you need to, you gotta," Trinity goes to follow Ezmeralda in.

"Wait, no, stop. Hold on," Ariane catches them. "Picture, y'all. Come on. You better work. Bitch, you better work."

She goes back to posing while Trinity carries a large yet tense smile and Ezmeralda simply smoulders in the cameras.

"There's nothing wrong with the glitz and the glam," she laughs. "I've watched my family deal with it for practically, my entire life. I think that's what really sets me apart from others, at times, because I don't care for having a camera in my face every second. I don't care for having every ounce of information about me uttered to the public as it's not their business. I do it cause it's a part of the job."

Even inside the boutique, Ariane and a few photographers were taking pictures rather than enjoying the clothes. Trinity stood beside Ezmeralda, an exhausted pout was prominent on her face. The elder woman pats her on the back.

"You okay, boo?" Trinity nods, "I just wanna do something fun without the cameras and stuff, ya know? Like this, isn't fun."

Ezmeralda pulls her into a quick hug, "don't worry, we'll find something fun without the attention."

As they look at the different shoes, they take that as their moment to talk. "So, what's been going on with you and Ariane, recently?" This ellicits a heavy sigh for the young woman. 

Trinity shakes her head, "we've been butting heads a lot recently. Like, I want us to grow as wrestlers. That's what we're here for, you know? Doing our little dance is cool, I use do that before WWE, but that's not my job anymore. However, Ariane doesn't see it like that. She's so focused on the glitz and the glamour of this, it's like she doesn't really care that much about wrestling."

"Oh," Ezmeralda hums. "It's always been obvious that you and Ariane solely have chemistry because of the time you've had to work with each other, but outside of that, you guys are insanely different to the point where a clash was bound to happen."

Trinity's eyebrows raise. "Really?"

The veteran nods her head. "From the moment she tried going behind Sandra's back to get y'all's costumes without even including you, I knew she was focusing on the wrong things at the wrong time. It's best that you talk to her, not as a friend, but as a business partner cause this can jeopardize your spot in the company."

The two hug, Trinity eyes slightly watering as the stress weighs heavy on her mind. "Thank you, Ezzie."

The woman smiles, "I always got your back, sis. Now, let's go find the twins and sneak out." They laugh, searching for their men. 

Tampa, FL

While on another day off, Trinity, Ezmeralda, Eva, Jojo, and Ariane decided to go for a fun day out Go-Karting. Trinity, especially, wanted to try and deescalate the tension growing between herself and her tag team partner. 

As they all were getting settled, Eva begins to joke. "Ladies, ladies, while I love you, I see that little stand over there," she points at the podium. "I'll be standing on top."

Ezmeralda laughs, "good luck with that, girl. You talkin' to someone who used to steal cars and race them thangs around the block." Jojo and Eva's eyes widen in shock, laughing at the small insight of the superstar's childhood.

Eva and Ariane pose at the top while Trinity shakes her head. "Both of y'all gon' be numbers two and three cause I'm gonna be number one." They all were given their helmets and told the rules and safety regulations.

They begin racing, the mics picking up their laughs with every drift and crash. Once the race was over, the official hands out their papers while announcing their placements. "In fifth place, we have Trinity."

She playfully snatches the paper out of his hands, crumbling it as the others laugh. "Fourth place, we have Jojo," he announces, handing the girl her paper as she giggled beside Trinity. "In third, we have Eva." The redhead's jaw drops. 

"What? I didn't get first?" She laughs, taking the bronze metal. Ezmeralda laughs, "damn, that's tough." The official continues, "in second, is Ariane." 

The woman's jaw drops, she side eyes Ezmeralda and swings her hair. "Girl, bye," she kisses her teeth, taking the silver. "And finally, but not least, in first with the gold is Ezzie." The superstar takes the gold, sliding it over her head with a little dance.

She climbs to the top, "yessir! Yessir!" She sings. "I'm a gamer, I do this, yuh." The others laugh. Afterwards, the group chilled on the side, talking.

"You was all about winning, passing me and everything. Both of y'all lapped me, but now look at you," Trinity jokes, pointing at Eva and Ariane.

"Don't be mad because you're slow, girl," Ariane chastises.

Trinity laughs, catching Eva in a small hug, "I'm not mad. I'm not a sore loser. Ezzie won, you got second place; congratulations."

Empathetically, Ezmeralda knew what was bound to happen due to the brewing conflict between the women. She wraps an arm around Trinity's waist.

"You could be a little more sincere about it," Ariane argues, receiving a side eye from Ezmeralda.

Trinity continues to try and brush her off, "get over it. Sincere about what?"

"Because you're like, uh, congratulations. You're just being bitter right now."

Trinity gives her a face. "I'm not being bitter. You're doing too much right now. It's a game, who cares?" Ariane holds up her metal, "but I won, though."

At this point Trinity and Ezmeralda was getting annoyed. "Don't get hot," Ariane taunts.

"I'm the one that wins the matches," Trinity states. Ariane raises her eyebrows, "oh, so you're the one who wins the matches? But when it comes to speaking, I'm the one who can talk on the mic."

Trinity tilts her head, "I can speak very well for myself." Ariane points at her, "you wanna take it there?" Trinity shrugs, "it's already took there."

"Trin's a lot better than me cause I would've already sent a right in Ariane's mouth cause you ain't finna talk to me any kind of way like that. And all over a mediocre race? Girl, four-year-olds could win that medal if they want to, who gives a damn? What? Your daddy, mommy, ain't never said 'congrats?' Well, here you go:"

She claps her hands, "congrats. Damn, now shut up."

"What you gettin' hot for?" Trinity looks at her. "Because you just took it to a whole other level," Ariane argues.

Trinity raises her eyebrow, "I didn't. Is it not true? Am I not the one that wins the matches?"

"Uh, yes, your Honor. It is true that my client, Trinity McCray, does in fact win all their matches," Ezmeralda exaggeratedly adjusts her glasses. 

"Okay," Ariane huffs, "so you win every single match?" She waves her hand, "actually, I'm done. I'm ready to go."

Trinity shakes her head, looking at Ezmeralda. "This is what I'm talking about. She's too much sometimes." 

They continue to go back and forth, Ariane's squeaky voice rising with every rebuttal. As they get ready to go, the duo begin to push at one another. Quickly, Ezmeralda wraps an arm around Trinity's waist in an effort to hold her back.

"It's not worth it, sis. Not in public and not with our job."

"I'm putting $100 on Trin. Ariane ain't got a chance to even lift her arm before she gets knocked clean out." Ezmeralda laughs.

Monday Night Raw

As a result of Trinity and Ariane splitting, some changes have appeared and one of them was Ariane was to compete against Aksana while Trinity was to compete against Ezmeralda which meant that the triplet's original match against The Shield was then switched to Team Hell No and John Cena vs. The Shield.

As Trinity and Ezmeralda's match was coming up, the newly dressed superstar stood in the Guerilla with the twins and her brother.

"Aye, now, take it easy on my baby," Jon jokes pulling the woman into a hug. 

"Boy, hush, if there's anyone I trust to go against as a rookie, it's my good sis," Ezmeralda laughs. "She just has ring rust. This is her moment to dust it off and find her moment to shine."

Her theme goes off as green stobe lights begin taking over the stadium. She smiles, "time for Aries to welcome the new meat."

Hyped, she skips through the curtain before switching to her signature strut out into the spotlight. Raising her arms at the climax, she dramatically bends down as the pyro sets off. Coming back up, she leads into a leap with a roar that mixed with the music. She slapped the hands of the excited fans before reaching the ring. Settled in her corner, pacing while in character, she watches as the familiar disco intro of the Funkadactyls plays.

Excited, Trinity comes skipping down the ramp with her signature pompoms. As she reaches the opposite of the ring from Ezmeralda, she leaps over the top rope with a split. Just moments before the bell rang, the veteran catches Trinity's eyes and sends a subtle nod of communication which she sends back.

The duo begin a match of trade offs and reversals, Naomi specifically taking on a defensive approach to Aries' typical fast yet offensive one. Despite the unnoticeable change in Aries' move-set, the fans weren't able to identify the lack of emphasis with every spot. 

Unbeknownst to the WWE Universe, Divas in positions like Naomi and the Bellas weren't trained to take powered slams neither were they trained to give them out. Thankfully, when training with the likes of Aries, she wasn't much of a rule follower anyways. 

As they keep going, Aries' approach then switches to take on the fast paced, arial based luchadore style adopted from her father. She notices that Naomi was slowing down, winded and fighting for her breath.

The dancer climbs the top rope, going for a crossbody; however, she overcalculated the landing. With ease, Aries' arms wrap around her torso to catch the woman as they fall back. Aries’ sell coming off as a cushion for Naomi's landing.

Naomi gets the pin on her, but Trinity as the athlete was not happy with her own performance. As they meet up backstage, Ezmeralda pulls her into a hug.

"You did good, love. We'll definitely have to work on your in-ring stamina, but you have the skills and can hit the spots. How'd it feel?"

She shakes her head, "I loved getting that chance, but I do wish for Ariane to be there cause that's all I know."

Ezmeralda nods, "I know, love, it's gonna be alright. You'll just have to talk this out and see how to solve this tension or find a way to keep yourselves connected." Trinity nods, the two walking further backstage.

Next chapter is gonna take a different turn with more Ezmeralda and Josh moments especially with Natalya's bachelorette party in Vegas coming up.

[waterfallofspace]

Obedience.

Using ~this lovely prompt~ from the incredible @onetrickponi for our dear G/ojo. 

Inumaki Translation Key:  “Bonito flakes” -Negative/Negation “Salmon” -Affirmation “Kelp” -Greeting “Caviar” -Curse/Expletive 

Characters: G/ojo, N/anami, I/numaki, Y/uji, M/egumi, N/obara, P/anda, and M/aki. (All platonic) Word Count: 2.7k

(References to mild coughing, and swearing!)

~~~~~~~

Gojo Satoru is an infamous name in Jujutsu. 

Some of the most powerful curse techniques the world has seen, abilities matched only by his intelligence. Not a sorcerer in Japan would deny knowing of him. Yet, ask what comes to mind when you say his name, and power is not the first word to drip off their tongue. 

The exact vocabulary will depend on which lips you pry it from. Higher ups would call him a nuisance. His students may call him aggravating. Fellow sorcerers have been known to use the term irritant. 

No matter who you ask, however, the sentiment rings true. Gojo Satoru is a troublemaker who dances the fine line between ‘loveable’ and ‘prick’. 

As with everything he does, Gojo is skilled at walking the tightrope of annoyance. Most of the time he’s careful to be as close to exasperating as possible, without actually being insensitive, unless it’s to higher ups. 

Most of the time. Then there are days, like last week, where the line is crossed with someone the students care about, and a little payback is required. It’s Inumaki’s turn to get the honours, which he accepts with a graceful “Salmon,” and a smirk. 

This is how a few students find themselves squished against the school, eagerly peeking around corners to watch the scene unfold. 

“Kelp!” Inumaki calls, gesturing for his fellow second years to gather around. Maki leans against the wall, Panda dropping to the floor and getting comfortable. Standing a few paces away from his target, Inumaki’s careful to measure the distance. Close enough to be obeyed, far enough to stay hidden. 

Down the field, the demonstration is about to begin. 

~~~

“-which leads me to the best part, so Megumi has no idea I’m even there,” Gojo rambles, hands painting spirals through the air. “And I saw him duck into the candy store, which was on my list anyways, so I’m follow-” 

“Satoru, I believe you asked me here for help with a demonstration,” Nanami cuts in, glancing at his watch as he rearranges his glasses. “I clock out in less than an hour. Is this really how you want to spend the time?” 

Nobara chuckles from behind her phone, gesturing towards Gojo. “Pretty sure he’d be thrilled to waste it gossiping. Meanwhile there’s a sale downtown, so if we’re not gonna get to it..?” 

“You people are no fun,” Gojo whines, tilting his glasses to meet Nanami’s eye. “Especially you.” 

Nanami sighs, tapping Yuji on the shoulder and gesturing to Megumi. “Get his attention please.” 

“One of the most boring people I’ve ever met, Nanami.”

“Well then,” Nanami pauses as a whack- sounds out from behind him followed by Yuji groaning. Another sigh raises in his chest. “Good thing my self worth doesn’t rest on what an immature sorcerer thinks of me.” 

Still rubbing his head, Yuji walks back over, Megumi following behind, pointedly refusing to lift his gaze to the teachers. Gojo seems to consider this ‘good enough’, as he begins to get in position, still huffing slightly at the insult tossed his way. 

“Alright guys, and girls~” Gojo adds with a snap in Nobara’s direction, prompting an eye roll from everyone in the group. “Time to get serious. This lesson is about hand-to-hand combat, with no cursed energy.”

Nobara offers a noncommittal hum, clicking away at her phone. Megumi still refuses to acknowledge anything but the bench he’s sitting on. Hesitantly, Yuji raises his hand, waiting till Gojo points at him. 

“Uh- Gojo sensei, didn’t you just teach me how to add cursed energy..?” 

“Correct! However, that’s because you’re already quite strong on your own. Fighting styles will be important for your growth, but it matters less with your brute strength.” 

Pausing, Gojo gestures to Megumi. “Someone like him needs to be constantly polishing their hand-to-hand skills, since he lacks the physical endurance you naturally possess.” 

“Oh, I see! Because he’s not as stron-” Nobara giggles as Yuji massages the back of his head again, Gojo failing to hold back a snicker. Rolling his eyes with another deep sigh, Nanami takes his position, gesturing for Gojo to get on with it. 

“So, for this demonstration I will turn off my infinity so our dear Nanami stands a chance~.” 

“Why don’t you stop talking and get on with it?” Nanami retorts, nodding to his watch. “Forty-five minutes.” 

Finally starting to begin, Gojo lets infinity turn off, placing his hand on Nanami’s shoulder to demonstrate an opening move. Nobara glances up every so often, still typing away at her phone. Megumi stares at the ground, but his lips seem to be repeating Gojo’s instructions. Meanwhile Yuji simply stares, captivated by each new move. 

Just as Gojo leans forward for another exaggerated swing, something hits him. Or more specifically, his nose. 

~”Sneeze.”~ 

Normally a sneeze for Gojo is a slow building process. The itch will start small, just a prickle in his sinuses, before it begins to build into a full blown need. With this one, he barely has time to duck away, pinching his nose shut with a desperate gasp. 

“ah’NXGchh-! hePTTchh-! hh- kNXT’ch-! Oh, ‘scuse me.” Gojo swipes at his nose, frowning at the breathless sensation he’s left with. Normally stifling doesn’t relieve the tickle, but he should be able to do it with minimal effort. 

“You okay, Sensei?” Yuji pipes up, glancing over at Megumi for confirmation. He doesn’t seem alarmed, not bothering to lift his head from his arms, feigning sleep on the bench.

 A few sneezes isn’t usually something to worry about, especially not from Gojo. The man is notorious for his sensitive nose, not to mention over-the-top fits. 

“Yeah, just a bit itchy. Start again. Nanami?”  Nanami gives Gojo a minute to collect himself, then with a nod, takes his stance. 

~”You’re not done.”~ 

“yiEHh’shhieuw-!”

“Watch it-” Nanami jumps back, grimacing as the first one doesn’t miss his sleeve.

“I’m- hH’GNchh-! I’m so- hehh… heptNCH-!” Gojo dives into his hand again, attempting to gasp out what sounds like an apology through the onslaught. “What the he- inchh-! en’gzchh-!”  

The itch is in his nose, but the tingles spread throughout his whole body. As his head dips again and again, he feels each muscle tense. His skin is crawling. Almost like goosebumps, but invisible to the naked eye.

“Woah, Gojo sensei, what’s wrong?” A voice laced with concern calls, but all Gojo can do is hitch, dipping deeper into his palm until he’s practically smothering himself. 

“hedt’chh-! ah’KDNTchh-! God I have… haveto… heh’KNCHh-!” 

While he doesn’t understand exactly what’s happening, he can sense the cursed energy swarming his own. Being aware of every drop overwhelming his system only leaves him more sensitive to the intensely soft feeling burning through his nose. 

“Ew, that’s so gross.” Another voice chimes in, void of concern. Still, Gojo finds himself unable to reply, entirely consumed by the maddening tickle. 

“eh’tnchh-! knchhh-! hahh- DTXNchh’uu-!” 

Every breath brings another sneeze dancing to the tip of his nose, waiting to burst forth. His vision blurs, the stifles not seeming to do anything to stall the exasperating itch. 

~”Enough stifling.”~ 

And just like that, Gojo feels his hand release his nose. A panic begins to seep through his weakened mind as he realizes he didn’t choose to do that. Still, it’s overwritten by the insistent desire that’s not been quelled. 

“hiHyiEShhhiuew-! yishh’hieww-! hh- tnnshh’uu-!”

He manages to get his collar over his face, muffling the bursts into the rapidly dampening fabric. “heh’mPFShhyew-! mmfffshh’iew-! eh’mffshhiueww-!” 

The moisture lining his nose starts to match the oceans forming in his eyes. No amount seems to satiate the tickle. An average fit might last for a while, Gojo’s used to that, but those sneezes feel satisfying. With this tickle, each sneeze that frees itself just brings a new desperation, as if he’s allergic to the act of sneezing. 

And more than that, they’re coming out as his natural ones- “hh’iSHhhieww-! tizshhyueww-!” -fittish and breathy, with a desperate twinge. Much different then the over-the-top presentations he’d normally be putting on. 

“ek’tieshhhieww-! heHh- guhhh…” Only when he can get a breath in does Gojo realize everyone’s staring at him. A heat begins to rise to his cheeks, spreading up into his ears.

Nanami’s hand rests on Gojo’s arm, eyes seeming to study him carefully.  “Satoru, are you alright?” There’s a humour to his voice that Gojo finds quite insulting, despite the kindness of the words.

“I’b ndot-” He pauses, sniffling hard against his wrist. It only serves to irritate his throat, light coughs pouring out. Annoying as it may be, the cough does clear the congestion enough to continue the sentence.

“I’m not sure, but I think… oh wait- hH’yiEShhhuew-! nohhht… notover- ekyiEShhh’shiew-!”

Nobara pipes up this time, phone long forgotten. “That’s disgusting.” 

“ah’KESHhh’yiew-! Wow, thagnks for the sy.. sympa…hahhh…” Making the mistake of opening his eyes, Gojo’s met with the horrifying realization his glasses had fallen off during the fit. The whimper he lets out has even Megumi glancing at him in concern. 

His eyes water again, lashes fluttering against the bright sunlight starting to invade his sinuses. It burns nearly as much as the cursed energy, and Gojo only manages to cast final warning before ducking back into his wrist.

“So itchy… I’mb gonda keep… hh’yIEShhh’yew-! hk’kieww-! ahh’dieuww-! hH’tieww-!” 

The fittish half-sneezes leave him breathless. It’s as if his nose is too sensitive, unable to even form a proper sneeze from the depth of the itch. His eyes snap open, just to plummet back shut as the flash from Megumi’s phone sends him back into hysterics. 

“ihh’kieww-! tchhieww-! ak’tiew-! hh’diueew-!” 

Through the fit, he manages to catch Nanami pulling the phone from Megumi’s hand, muttering something about ‘he has it bad enough’, quickly followed by ‘send me those after.’ The burning in his cheeks deepens, and for a second he considers attempting to warp out of there. 

“ahn’chhuew-! kn’diew-!” That fantasy dies as quick as it was born. 

Grumbling under his breath, Gojo attempts to glare at them, failing spectacularly. “You’re all th- hnn’diew-! ekieww-! ahh’tIEShhuu-! The worst. hK’ENchhiew-! hheHh- guhhh…” 

“For taking pictures when you’re suffering? Wow, I wonder who I could have learned that from.” Megumi adds, taking his phone back from Nanami with a silent glare. 

“Sensei,” Yuji pauses for Gojo to let out another burst before continuing, “Is there anything we can do?” 

Taking a cautious sniff, Gojo manages his first full breath since the fit started. He meets Yuji’s concerned gaze, opens his mouth, and- 

~”It tickles worse.”~ 

-gasps, pitching forward with a full-bodied sneeze. There’s not even time to aim for his shirt, a light mist landing on the ground. He feels his teary eyes flutter, nostrils quivering against the unbelievable urge. 

Before he knows it he’s leaning over, hands against knees- “hH’djZSHhuu-! yiEShhhIHhew-! ahh’knZShhhyeww-!”  -sneezing openly towards the ground. 

At this display, Nanami and Megumi chime in with a matching “gross” as Nobara openly shudders, taking several steps back. Seemingly the only one not disgusted, Yuji steps forward, resting his hand on Gojo’s back as it trembles. 

“Do you know what’s going on, Sensei?” 

Despite having a pretty good idea, Gojo just offers a frantic wave. As his nostrils flare again, he spins away from the group, the attack gaining a harsher quality.

“kNZSHhhuu-! ah’DZSHhh’tiew-! Oh my- hH’EZSHH’uew-!” 

Gojo convulses again, intense sneezes continuing to assault his trembling septum as he wipes the tears from his flushed cheeks,

~~~ 

Across the field, Inumaki mimics the movement, Panda and Maki joining in with their own chuckles. The hilarity of his reaction leaves them almost as breathless as their target. Laughter of this pure a degree had become quite rare for them, and it almost made them feel bad about the torment. 

“Okay,” Noticing Inumaki gearing up again, Panda gives him a gentle nudge.  “You should probably ease up now. You don’t want him actually passing out.”

“Bonito flakes..?” 

Panda sighs, nodding at him. “Yes, you do have to.” 

From her position against the wall, Maki chimes in, “He’s gonna be so pissed.” 

“Caviar… Salmon, Salmon.” Inumaki agrees. Dropping his collar again, he gives one final command.

~”You have one last sneeze in you.”~ 

With that, the three lean back to watch the finale. 

~~~ 

“kshh’diew-!” 

Pausing, Gojo feels something change. The jittery feeling that had been spread across his body honed in on his nose, amplifying the tickle. As his hand begins to frantically fan his face, he feels the world start to fade away. Soon all that exists is him and the itch. 

For the first time in his life, Gojo feels like he might understand what it’s like to be trapped in Infinite Void. Every feeling seems miles away, and yet at the same time it’s touching him. Each breath is too slow, but he’s panting. 

Time seems to stop, nothing but the tickle remaining as Gojo tilts his head back, desperately looking for anything to bring this to an end. Any source of brightness to- there it is. 

If he’d had any vision, the light would have stolen it, but instead, mercifully, he dives into his hands with a final vicious sneeze.  

“heH’DIEZSHHH’kiuew-!” 

 Even Megumi chimes in with an almost concerned, “That was intense.” 

Gojo gives him a vague smile, pale cheeks stained with blush as he sinks to his knees, rubbing his nose with a ferocity that leaves everyone wincing. 

“Do you need to go see Shoko..?” Yuji asks, but Gojo shakes his head, still panting. Nanami kneels down beside him, draping an arm over his shoulders as he pulls Gojo back to his feet. 

Letting Nanami support his weight, Gojo clears his throat, his blush deepening at the congestion that lingers. “I thignk I’ll be fidne ndow. Just godda sleebp this off.”

“You sound awful,” Megumi mutters, grimacing as Gojo winks at him. 

“Awww, are you concerdned about mbee? Thadts so sweedt of you, Megumbi!” 

In response Megumi scowls, the expression slowly morphing into a smirk as he holds up his phone. “Well, I guess these photos just put me in a good mood.” 

As he passes it around, Nobara and Yuji start howling with laughter, even Nanami suppressing a few chuckles. Gojo sighs playfully, attempting to brush off the way his ears seem to burn. 

“I defignitely deserved thadt.” He laughs, before exhaustion deepens its hold, and he leans against Nanami with an uncovered yawn. 

Nanami chuckles again, this time unrestrained. “You probably did.” And with that, begins the walk towards the school, Gojo still unsteady on his feet. Behind them, Megumi joins in on the laughter, and Gojo sighs at the inevitability of those photos ending up online. 

~~~ 

Just before they make it inside, he suddenly pulls away, whipping as far away from Nanami as he can manage. 

“hiH’TIEShhh’diew-! ahhh’kesshhyew-!” 

They’re followed by a low moan as he rubs his nose half raw against his arm.

“They’re right, you know, Satoru. You really are gross.” 

“hah’inKEShhh’yiew-! Thagnks, Nadnambi,” Gojo says, sniffling hard against his wrist. There’s a mild laughter to his tone. “Woah, thadt’s hard to say. hH- oh fuckigg- hh’kiezshh’uu-!” 

“Bless you.”

The western blessing gets a full laugh, which quickly descends into a productive cough. Raising his watery eyes to meet Nanami’s stern gaze, Gojo chokes out, “How- ndice o- of you.” 

“Let’s get you to a couch to lay down.”

“Thadt would be perfegct.” 

~~~

Sure enough, as Gojo sleeps it off, the photos begin spreading. Unfortunately for Megumi, most people seem to share the conclusion that, even while in the grips of a full sneezing attack, Gojo Satoru looks gorgeous. 

By the time the next day rolls around, the post has gotten over a million likes. Megumi attempts to delete the post, but ‘StrongestSorcererSatoru’ reuploads it. 

A week later rumours are spreading through the Jujutsu world. Gojo Satoru horrific sneezing fit, Inumaki force to be reckoned with even for the strongest, but by far the most surprising, Gojo Satoru apologized for going too far. 

Seems even Satoru can take a hint when it’s of that magnitude. 

Inumaki notices a few extra stares being cast his way, but it comes with more than enough pats on the back to make up for it. 

Everyone loves Gojo getting humbled a little.

[piastrinorris]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 8.8k

A/N: Here it is, folks. The one you've all been waiting for. Enjoy. <3

I might have been a tiny wee bit self indulgent at one point in particular. Bet you can't tell where.

You frown as you swipe to answer the call from Scott. "Who died?"

"Woooow," a very familiar sarcastic response rings through your ear. "Can't a friend just call up another in this day and age?" You let the silence linger just long enough for him to then add, "Yeah, I'm chatting shit. No, I was going to ask, are you running late?"

You frown, "No, I'm not long about to close up now. Why'd you ask?"

"Well, Ralph texted me." He puts on a voice, the way you all do when talking about your flatmate. "Good afternoon, Scott. I hope you have been keeping well, and that the snow hasn't interrupted your daily life. I would like to request your assistance, I am aware that we have been tasked with making dessert for the Pal Valentine's Day meal later, but unfortunately I have noticed that we are severely lacking in eggs. I was simply wondering if, by chance you could bring some up to the flat? I would be most grateful, and willing to more than compensate you financially! Regards, Ralph."

You groan, "I asked him to get eggs this morning, he didn't want to because there were kids throwing snowballs and he was scared he'd get caught up in it. I told him to suck it up, because they can smell fear, but he's clearly too chicken-shit to go out there."

"Aww, he's never even had a snowball fight before? What even was his childhood?!" You rasp, hoping to quickly evade that topic. "Oh my god, you thinking what I’m thinking?”

You grin, “I think I am. You wanna rally the troops?”

“On it.”

You look up from your phone, still giggling, to see two of your sales assistants watching you, looking at each other and waggling their eyebrows at each other. You shake your head, “At this point, you’re well beyond barking up the wrong tree! My friend Scott and I are planning something,” you flash your eyes mischievously, and they tut back at you.

“Well, at this point, it’s not like we were expecting you to have some hot date on the other end of the line, is it?” One of them jokes, nudging the other as they run off and busy themselves at the other end of the store, still cackling.

“You two are lucky you’re my favourites!” You shout after them with a laugh. “Can I trust you to close up tonight?”

“Nah, we’re gonna loot the place,” one answers with a false sincerity.

“You poor sods won’t find much here,” you point out. “But thank you, you’re the best!” You singsong as you head past them to the back room.

“Then pay us more!” Another jokes.

“If I had control over who earns what, d’you not think I’d have done that by now? You wound me,” you dramatically push your hand to your chest as you walk backwards through the door out of the main shop floor. Once you’ve collected all your belongings, and put on all your layers, it’s pretty much time to close anyway. You salute your colleagues with a, “Godspeed getting home tonight,” and brave the cold.

Since the roads hadn’t been salted by the time you needed to get to work, you’d walked there, and while you would much rather be sitting in a heated car than feeling your cheekbones freeze over, it’s quite nice to walk through the streets of Croydon, watching the thick snow fall with the slightest bit of sun still peeking through. A gentle little reminder that longer, warmer days are just around the corner, and that winter’s soon at an end.

You’re greeted in front of your tower block by all your friends, all with varying expressions. Scott and Connor are eagerly plotting, Anna still looks a little unsure, and Grace just looks like she’s fed up of the cold. “So, what’s the plan, who’s getting him to come downstairs?” you ask once you’re with them.

“That’s what we were just deciding,” Scott replies.

“My suggestion was that Anna would be the least suspicious, but she wants no part of this,” Connor pulls a face and Anna slaps his arm.

“Shut up! I still think it’s mean,” she frowns, and you hold her arm comfortingly.

“Listen, who’d you rather be the first people to engage Ralph in any kind of snow fight, us or those little pricks up there?” You jerk your head over to where a group of middle school-age boys are playing around together. 

She sighs, “Fine, but I’m aiming for his feet, okay?”

“Aw, but it’s fifty points if you hit his face,” Scott teases.

“Okay, okay, before Grace gets hypothermia, let’s just get this over and done with, shall we?” You ask, and Grace nods from somewhere beneath her fluffy hood. “Scott, he asked you to pick up those eggs, didn’t he? Just make up some guff about how they’ve locked the front doors so he needs to come push the button to let you in.”

Scott nods, texts something, and within a few minutes pumps his fist with excitement. “Okay, he says he’ll do it! I told him to wrap up and let me know when he’s on his way down.”

“Tell him you’ve had to step away from the doors so it doesn’t look like you’re loitering,” Connor adds, “so he can’t just run back.”

“Okay, this does feel a little mean, now,” you admit, and Anna looks at you incredulously.

“No, no, you don’t get to back out now! Not after all that talking me round!”

“Yeah, c’mon, you two have been smooth sailing for ages now, surely there’s something that you can only get off your chest by a one-time snowball pelting?” Scott asks, and you think for a moment.

“He did watch the rest of that new show we were watching without me and then spoiled the ending,” you ponder.

“Jail.” Grace pulls her hood back momentarily to stare at you with wide, serious eyes.

You nod, “Yeah. Or a snowball to the shoulder. Both are the same punishment, I think.”

“Totally,” Connor sneers, and you and Grace both flip him off - or you assume that’s why she’s holding the back of her hand up to him, it’s hard to tell with her wearing mittens, but it does put everyone into a heap of laughter.

Connor’s phone beeps, and he gasps as he looks at his screen. “Alright, gang, he’s on his way down! Lock and load.”

You all get into position, snowballs in gloved hands, as you watch Ralph push the door open with ease, walk through it and look back with a frown. He tentatively moves forward one cautious step at a time, his big baby-cow eyes darting around all the while. You all hide a little further back each time until he’s inevitably in line with you all. He looks at Scott first, then his hand, then around at all of you. “Oh, fiddlesticks,” he whispers.

“This is for your own good, mate,” Connor grimaces as you all throw your missiles at him. With a half-scream, half-squawk sound, Ralph tensely curls himself up in self-defence, holding that position long after he’s been hit. “See, mate, that wasn’t so bad, was it? And that was all of us!”

“I thought you were all my friends,” he glares indignantly at you all, and you nod.

“Yeah, which is why we did it knowing you wouldn’t get hurt,” you point out. “You’re alright now, aren’t you?” He nods tentatively. “See? And the best bit, is now it’s your turn, and you get pick of the lot as to who you hit first.”

“Just hit me first, if you like, I won’t mind, and I won’t hit you again, either,” Anna shrugs, but Ralph studies all of you.

“Who’s idea was this?” He eventually asks Anna, who quickly points to you and Scott.

“Wooooow,” Scott shakes his head, but Anna simply flips him off.

Ralph bends down, eyes still flitting between all of you, as he grabs two handfuls of snow and immediately flings them both at the two of you. While you get a tiny little lump that just grazes your chest, at least he landed it with Scott, as that one flew out of his grip and straight into Scott’s mouth. A laugh bubbles out of Ralph’s lips and you all grin back at him.

“Okay, that was good, but a good snowball is two handfuls, smushed together into, yeah, that’s it, just like- ack!” Connor is silenced and humbled by Ralph throwing his third and far bigger snowball, straight into his stomach. “Prick,” he laughs as he scoops another one up to toss at Ralph again, who manages to evade it this time. “Mine was way bigger than theirs!” He makes another, adding, “Although, while I’m here, if you’re not retaliating…” Before extending himself to standing and throwing one at Anna with an almost evil cackle.

Anna gasps, “Only not to Ralph, asshole!” And throws one back at him with a giggle.

Before long, you’re all running around, including Ralph, throwing snowballs at each other and laughing like you were kids again. You’d never had thought, at your big age, that this is how you’d be spending a snowy day, but it brings back good memories of you and your four oldest friends, knocking at each other’s doors after the local news had announced that your school was closed, taking old bin lids up the steepest hills you could climb to slide down again. You look over at Ralph, with the apples of his cheeks glowing as red as his ears and the tip of his nose from all the cold, his whole face lit up as he catapults snowballs in the strangest fashion, and wonder what snow days must have been like for him. Obviously, he wasn’t sledding down hills on bin lids, but you’d have thought he and Victoria and their friends would have had friendly snowball fights. Though, you remember, from what you’ve learned of Victoria and her friends, perhaps those weren’t so friendly when aimed at Ralph.

Your thoughts are interrupted when another snowball hits Ralph, though not from any direction that any of you are standing. You all look over to the gang of young boys, snickering at each other for having landed one on “one of the oldies”, especially commending the offender for “getting the posh one”.

Though rage boils through all of you, it’s Grace, already warmed up from running around, who pushes her hood back to give them all a death stare and tell them, “You’ll regret that.”

As though called to arms, the five of you form a protective wall in front of Ralph and start hurling snowballs at the group of pre-teens at top speed until one of them yells, “Alright, alright, truce! Mercy! Whatever word gets you to stop!”

Just as you all stop, one more snowball flies up above all of you. Over your heads, down, down, and lands perfectly on top of the head of the kid that the others were praising for hitting Ralph. All your friends spin around on the spot so that all of you, as well as the boys, could stare in disbelief at Ralph, who has a small but very proud smile on his face. “Oi, that was sick!” One of the boys yells out. You mouth to Ralph that that’s a good thing as the other boys start laughing and cheering for him, too.

“Okay, alright, we’ve all had our fun,” you start holding your hands up in the air, “but this isn’t getting Palentine’s dinner ready, is it?”

“Isn’t it Valentine’s? That’s tomorrow, innit?” One of the boys answers.

“Nah, isn’t Pal-a-tine the wrinkly geezer from Star Wars?” Another asks.

“I thought it was that place that’s always fighting with Israel,” another comments.

“Maybe pay more attention to your teachers, yeah?” You ask them with a slight nod. You turn to the others. “Still meeting at Anna’s?” You ask, and they all non-verbally confirm. “Cool, see you guys in a bit. Ralphie!” You shout for him and he springs to attention, practically jumping to stand next to you. You smirk, “Ready to go get those eggs I asked for this morning?” He nods sadly and you nudge him towards the row of shops.

As you walk away, Ralph mutters, “I know I’m not supposed to interfere with knowledge about those world wars, but have there really already been ones in space, too?”

Had the snowball incident not already happened, you’d have absolutely messed with Ralph by convincing him that Star Wars were actual battles that took place in outer space. However, enough guilt consumes you that you correct him by trying to explain the entire movie franchise to him as you buy the eggs you need. Though he listens intently and nods attentively, you can tell from the vacant look in his eyes that nothing’s really going in, but at least he’s trying.

Baking with Ralph sounds like a nightmare, but he’s a diligent little helper when he’s trying. He measures your ingredients for you and he’s quick to wash up your equipment once you’re done with it. You’d only planned to go for the safe option of a simple sponge cake, predicting disaster, but the speed at which you’re all done leaves you pleasantly surprised. You’re even able to snap a little photo for Ralph’s instagram without him noticing. Once you’re all dolled up, he suggests you both take one to “show” his instagram and twitter accounts, but you opt to keep that one for just the camera roll. You’ve not seen or heard any speculation about your potential love life revolving around Ralph, and you’d like to keep it that way.

Once you finally get to Anna’s, after explaining that the boys outside of your flats had since decided to gather all the snow in the street to make one giant snowball, and had recruited you and Ralph to roll it when it got too big for them to, until you two couldn’t either. “Perfectly understandable reason,” Connor nods in understanding, and the others agree.

Once all the food is laid out, you’re glad that you all a) worked up an appetite and b) ended up pushing dinner back on top of that, because everybody preparing separate dishes has definitely overestimated what six portions of each part should be. Regardless, it’s another night of eating food, chatting away and ending with dancing around Anna’s living room, much like Ralph’s second night with you.

Another morning of February 14th, another empty bed to wake up in. You sit up, stretching out your arms, and grab your phone to look through the folder in your phone labelled “shitty mspaint valentines” to send to your friends and some of your coworkers, to make them laugh. You’re met with some laughing reactions, some rebuttals and a couple of reactions that you can tell were written with a sarcastic eye roll, which only spurs you on more.

You also post a photo you took yesterday to Ralph’s instagram, to keep his brand alive:

You’re about to drag yourself out of bed when the door opens to reveal Ralph, holding out a tray with two plates piled with waffles, two glasses of fruit juice and two mugs of tea. You watch him carefully set it at the foot of the bed and then sit next to you with your lower lip out in an affectionate pout. “Aww, Ralphie, what’s all this about?”

“Well, usually tradition would have it that Father and I would take Mother and Victoria breakfast in bed on St Valentine’s Day morning, as a tradition, and so Victoria insisted that tradition still be upheld even after our parents… Well, let’s not already put a dampener on the day before it starts! You’ll have to forgive the absence of flowers, I used to have the luxury of picking them out of the garden, but none of the plants in the flat are flowering, and it would be criminal of me to steal from others’ gardens, and all the florists were specifically selling bundles that were far too big for such a gesture, an-”

“Deep breath,” you coach him as you put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s sweet that you still wanted to uphold your little tradition. You know, my dad used to leave me and Mum Valentine’s cards on the doormat, each from “a secret admirer”, though it used to terrify me at first because I didn’t realise it was him!” You pull a face as you take a bite out of a waffle, and Ralph laughs softly. “’Course, after a while, it’d get a bit embarrassing having your dad be your Valentine, but hey, it was one more than I’ve been getting these past few years!” You finish your mouthful and wave the rest of the waffle at him. “These are pushing the boat out for you! Get you!”

“Yes, my dear American friend recommended them to me! And I managed to successfully cook them in the toaster oven!” Ralph chimes gleefully.

“Look at you go!” You beam proudly. “Soon enough, you won’t even need me!”

“Oh, don’t be preposterous,” he mutters under his breath just before taking a big sip of his tea. “Any plans for the day?”

“You mean, other than beating the hoards of men waiting for me outside that door with a stick?” You joke, and Ralph chuckles lightly. You shake your head. “Might just do another self-care day. Be my own Valentine, as if things weren’t sad enough!”

“Well, perhaps I could join you, and we would be our own ones together,” Ralph offers. He awaits your reaction with bated breath. If that goes well, perhaps he could segue into asking you to be his actual Valentine, and that would be at least one more step above simply being housemates, over being bedmates, even.

You take a deep breath in. Maybe you could ask Ralph if he’s willing to take it the slightest step further and be each other’s Valentines. It’s just an arbitrary title, really, but at least you’d have one this year. And, whenever Ralph finally leaves, at least you can remember him as more than just your flatmate who you platonically shared a bed with. Wistfully reminiscing over a Valentine does sound more romantic.

But, you have to respect his boundaries. If he felt comfortable enough to make you breakfast in bed, he would have accompanied it with a request for you to be his, but he didn’t. He’s offering to be his own Valentine, parallel to you. Message received. “That’d be nice!” You put all your effort into trying not to sound disappointed.

It works, as Ralph reads your reaction as being very happy with that idea, and he daren’t tread over that line. “Very well. So, what does being your own Valentine mean?”

“For me? Junk food, junk TV, and in this weather, wearing at least two blankets at all times,” you count off on your fingers, making Ralph laugh. “Though I better head out and get you some of your favourites, too.”

He frowns, “There’s no need, you’ll catch your death of cold out there!”

“I mean, obviously I’d get dressed first,” you pull a face. “But yeah, you deserve to get spoiled a little, too. I mean, you did all this for me,” you gesture to the tray, but Ralph rasps flippantly. “Plus,” you add with a smirk, “don’t want you hoarding all my favourite snacks.”

“There it is!” Ralph grins, pointing a finger to you and leaning in so it hovers close to your nose, making you laugh.

“You caught me!” You hold your hands up in mock guilt. “I’ll head out in a bit, okay?”

Once breakfast is over, and you’ve washed up after you both despite Ralph insisting he would do it and trying to get in - which resulted in some rather creative ways of blocking him out of the kitchen - you get dressed ready to brave yet another cold front.

You know what Ralph’s most favourite sweets are. Jelly Babies. But the ones he loves the most aren't the kind you can get from any shop - of course not, that would be too easy, and this is Ralph. No, his favourites come from an old fashioned sweet shop that lives on the same street as the shop he works in. You remember its location vividly. as you'd made a point to think about memorising it and nothing else the day you'd dropped off a treat to Ralph while at work and seen his latest idea in action - an immersive display where he dresses up to fit in with it too. But you'd firmly blocked that mental image out of your head. Of him surrounded by Wild West imagery while wearing a cowboy hat, a plaid shirt and very well-fitting jeans. You definitely hadn’t focused on that at all.

The trek to the old high street is a long one, especially since the snow that wasn’t quite gritted over had formed a barrier of sludge along the roadside that was creeping into the remnants of yesterday’s clean, soft, crunchy snowfall. You make the most of the childlike wonder that comes from stomping through it while you can, before it inevitably ices over into a deathly lumpy terrain.

You spot someone ahead hobbling through the snow, walking in your direction. You watch them carefully, unsure whether to try and help, casually walk past or actively avoid them, when an unmistakably pungent aroma precedes them. You study them a little closer and shout in recognition, “Homeless Pete!”

The man looks up and grunts at you. “How‘ve you been? Not seen you in ages!” He shrugs. Heart sinking, you note, “You were walking with quite a purpose there. Headed anywhere in particular?” Your fears are confirmed when he points over to the block of flats Ralph showed you that he’d emerged from almost half a year ago. “Oh… Today? It’s working?!” You ask, feeling your heart hurl through the ground. He nods, then gestures to you and flashes you a hopeful look. “What?! No! Not me! No, d’you remember, you brought a guy back with you from the 20s? Well, not these 20s, the nineteen-twenties.” 

He looks blankly at you. You groan, “Please don’t tell me you’re some kind of past Pete who doesn’t know about Ralph, I don’t need a migraine today.” The name seems to resonate with Pete, which is promising. “Yes! Ralph! You remember! He was all dressed up like he was in the army! And he ended up coming back with you! And then he ended up with me! S’pose I better… Could you hold off on using it until I can get him there, too?” Your words hang heavy with sadness, but you knew this day was coming.

Pete stands there in silence for a moment, thinking. He traces the air from time to time, then claps his hands, making you jump. He mimes scratching at a beard along his own stubble-covered jaw. “You mean, you’ve seen Ralph with a beard now?” He nods, pointing downwards in front of himself. “You’ve spoken to him?” Another nod. Pete looks up at the tower block, then at you, gestures with two hands towards the building, then makes an X shape with his arms, waving them down. 

“Please just fucking speak, mate.” You sigh, but he just repeats his actions. As you look lost again, he holds his two hands out again, but stops, looking at you in waiting. “So, that’s you and Ralph?” You guess, and he nods. He moves his hands up towards the building. “You and Ralph went to the place with the… Time machine.” Saying it out loud still sounds insane, even after all this time. He holds one hand close to him, and waves the other one out at you. “Is that one meant to be him?” Another nods, and then the crossed-arms gesture. You frown. “Ralph… Didn’t go in with you?” He shakes his head. “Why not?” He shrugs.

The sorrow and confusion you’ve been feeling this whole conversation start to curdle into all kinds of other feelings. There’s still some confusion there, but mostly it’s anger, frustration, disbelief. He knew how cautious you were about this day finally arriving. He knew of all the countless sleepless nights you’d spent trying to figure out things like how to hide him from your landlord, what to do if he ever falls ill. He knew that every time you picked up your post, you feared a letter from the government with big red letters asking to confirm the identity of the man who’s been claiming to live there despite not being legally registered to. He knows that you’ve been up until all hours some nights searching desperately for some kind of explanation for this phenomenon, since it can’t just be something that only Homeless Pete knows about.

Things had been going so well, especially since Christmas. You’d made peace with the fact that the clock was very much ticking with how long you’d have left with Ralph, and especially after Brighton, you had been telling yourself over and over to not sweat the small stuff, and to just enjoy having him around. You’d figured that with your feelings for him growing stronger the more that he’s around, it’s better for everyone if, instead of constantly counteracting them with the negatives, you’d just let yourself get over him quietly. 

Maybe you should have been more forceful. Created more boundaries. Made it more obvious that he can’t just cheat his own fate, who knows what kind of damage he’s done to… Literally the entire universe, anything could be possible! You’d thought you’d always made it so clear to Ralph to always be preparing for the day he goes back. That no matter how great the life is he’s made for himself here, at the end of the day, all this is, is a learning experience for him to take this level of confidence back with him to his own time.

Forgoing the sweet shop, and any other shop for that matter, you make a beeline home, your steps far more deliberate and angry than the gentle march you had been taking through the snow. Even the sight of the lift in your building angers you, so you push your way up the stairs up until the ninth floor, storming through your front door.

Ralph looks over at you from where he sits on the sofa, delight on his face, which quickly falls when he sees your expression. “Is everything alright?”

“Is it?!” You screech. “Have a guess who I saw out there.”

He frowns. “I’m not sure, I didn’t quite think there was anyone out there who upset you to that degree. Would you like some tea or something to calm down?”

“Don’t you dare tell me to ‘calm down’ when you are the reason I haven’t felt ‘calm’ for almost six months now!” You hold your forehead, and Ralph looks back at you, confused, sad and a little scared.

“I - I quite apologise, is there something I’ve done that’s brought this -”

“Don’t you go giving me the ‘oh, yes, quite’ spiel,” you mock his tone, “not when you’ve been lying to me under my own roof! I trusted you!” You stop yourself when you hear your voice crack at that last sentiment.

He swallows hard. “In what respect have I been dishon-”

“I saw H.P. while I was out, didn’t I?! Going towards that block of flats. So I tell him, I say, oh hang about, Pete, let me go grab Ralph so he can go back. And what do you think he told me?!” You ask, now stood next to the couch, squatting down to get eye level with Ralph.

His eyes dart as he wrings his hands, his eyes squeezing shut and open over and over again. “Yes, well, you see, that -”

“Right, all this umm-ing and ahh-ing is just… Annoying me even more,” you state, rubbing your temples. “I just want the facts, Ralph.”

“You said not to talk about anything from that weekend,” he mutters, and you look at him in disbelief.

“You’ve been holding out on me about this since November?!” You ask incredulously.

“You said! Not to talk! About anything! From that weekend!” Ralph jumps to his feet, punctuating every gap in his sentence with a chop to his palm.

You stand back up to level with him. “Yeah, as in all the shit about - God, are we really gonna drag all of that into light again, now?!”

“Well, if we could just talk about it, calmly,” Ralph gesticulates, but you scoff.

“You gave up all rights to that the moment you started lying to me,” your voice shakes. “It’s you, Ralph. You’re the one person I don’t expect to lie to me, since I don’t lie to you.”

He rasps in disbelief. “That’s not entirely true, now, is it? Or else you wouldn’t react so harshly. There’s something you’re hiding from me, isn’t there? Has your sense of charity finally worn, is that it?” He speaks with the venom in his tone that you’ve only ever heard whenever he’s talking about himself. “What, have you been counting the days down until you could throw me back out? Is that why you’re up until the ungodly hours, researching how to get rid of me sooner?”

You groan, pressing your fingers into your eyelids. “You can’t keep doing this, you can’t just keep making yourself the victim here when that obviously isn’t what I want!”

“Ah, yes, well, you must forgive me for not realising sooner that everything here is exactly as it always has been for my entire life,” Ralph spits. “People pretending to care about me to then use me for my money, or my social status, is one thing, but I have nothing here. Nothing but… Being a pitiful little man.”

“How many more times are we going to have this argument, Ralph? Everybody loves you here!” You punctuate every syllable of the first word with claps. “It’s not just because they pity you, because they don’t know you! They don’t know how you got here, or anything about your shitty family, people just like you! You have to stop being so narrow-minded and start seeing how this,” you gesture in circles in front of him, “affects the rest of us! Especially me, I’m out here having to - to keep track of what secrets I’m keeping and what lies I’m telling to who.”

“Yes, well. Nobody asked you to,” he mutters, looking at the floor.

Your blood now boiling, and all rationality out of the window, you scoff, “Oh, so now you’re ungrateful?!” His eyes snap to yours, but you carry on before he can interrupt you again. “I put my job on the line every time I have to leave early for you. I put my entire livelihood on the line harbouring a fugitive that doesn’t legally exist anywhere, not to mention that I have no clue what to do if you ever need urgent medical attention, if my landlord suddenly decides to kick me out, I don’t know how I’m going to keep them from finding out about you and potentially charging me a fuckton extra, I just - You can’t just think about everything I risk for you even once, can you?”

He frowns, “How dare you say that I don’t care?! I keep a healthy diet, despite all the times you decide we’ll just take away food instead, I keep to myself as much as possible other than the things that you have me do, and whenever I do leave the flat, I leave no trace that I was ever here!”

“Look, we’re getting away from the main problem, here, and I’m not skirting around it any more,” you shake your head. “Why did you lie to me?”

“Strictly speaking, I’ve never told a lie, merely omitted my meeting with Peter from any conversation between you and I,” he points out, and you scowl at him. He sighs, “But you don’t understand. If I told you that, you’d want to know why. And I can’t - there are far bigger things at play here,” he shakes his head.

You look at him in disbelief, “Like what?! Are you some kind of time-travelling spy? An intergalactic detective?”

“Clearly not,” Ralph scoffs.

“Then what, Ralph?” You raise your voice. “What possible reason do you have for - for causing me all that grief all those months ago, just to then go against the one thing you were supposed to do, putting the fate of whatever’s out there at risk all while only living the life of half a person, hm? Why would you choose to stay here like this?!”

“Because I’m in love with you, obviously!”

You and Ralph stare at each other for what feels like hours of silence. His wide, terrified eyes boring into yours as his whole face turns red. His lip quivers and then, suddenly, he pushes past you as you’re still frozen on the spot. You just about turn around to see the last of him rush out of the door, carrying his shoes in his hand.

His coat still hangs on the door, and you can see the snow is falling again. Not realising you’d been holding a breath in the whole time, you groan it out as you grab his coat, wrapping it around your arm to avoid it dragging on the floor, and head out to follow him. You see the display above the lift counting down and curse yourself for having worn yourself out on the way up here earlier.

You huff your way back down the stairs and try to find any trace of where Ralph could have gone. You study the footprints in the snow, vaguely recognising some in the shape of Ralph’s shoes, and decide that it’s as good a lead as any to try and follow them, though they quickly disappear once you get to the main street area. You notice someone loitering and decide it’s worth a shot.

Running across the road to meet them, you ask, “I know this sounds strange, but have you seen a guy go past? Had on a fuzzy blue jumper and no coat, I mean like -”

“Like he was wearing the Cookie Monster’s skin?” They ask with amusement. You sigh with relief, nodding hurriedly and they point, “Went towards the old high street, looked like he was tweaking.”

You thank them and start running as quickly as the resistance from the snow will allow you. It doesn’t help that the wind happens to be blowing the snowfall directly into your face, causing you to constantly stop to rub your eyes or sputter at whatever lands on your mouth.

Once you get back to the street you’d just been to moments before, you sigh with exhaustion as there doesn’t seem to be any trace of him. You still begin pacing the street, looking in every shop window that you pass. You wonder whether he’s hiding at his work, where you wouldn’t be able to get near him, and whether it would be worth asking in there. You’re on good enough terms with his colleague now, and perhaps the eclectic owner of the store might lift your spirits a little. There’s an awful lot of emotional weights on your chest right now, and you’re not sure which ones you’re supposed to be holding. You’re not entirely sure of anything right now, other than that you need to find Ralph.

Not paying attention to what’s in front of you at all, you end up almost vaulting over some poor baby’s stroller as their mother tries to get past you. “Oh my god, I am so sorry!” You apologise hurriedly, and she looks at you with a weirdly knowing smile.

“You looking for the guy who’s been cutting about in just his jumper?” She asks, gesturing to the coat in your arms.

Your eyes widen, “Yes! Oh my god! Have you seen him?!”

“Nice fella, helped me get the little’un across the road amongst all the snow. Really posh?” You nod again, hoping to egg her along. She eventually tells you, “Yeah, I told him to hurry up and get inside, he’ll catch his death! He went over there, towards them flats.” You don’t even need to look in the direction she’s pointing to know where she means.

You thank her profusely, adding a, “Cute baby!” over your shoulder as you quickly make your way down to your next clue.

Thankfully, it’s more than just that, as you find Ralph leaning against the wall of the building just next to the front door, squatting not far from the ground, his arms crossed over his torso and his head sunk low.

He doesn’t look at you as you walk over to him, but you hold his coat out in front of him. “At least put this on, yeah? That mum’ll have your throat, otherwise.” He silently reaches out for it and stands to put it on.

“He’s not here,” he mutters quietly. “Peter, I mean.”

“So, that was your answer to all of this?” You ask, your voice strangely calm considering how tumultuous your internal monologue is. “To just run back to your old life and leave this one all unanswered and up in arms? No care as to how it’d affect anyone else?”

“Of course I care about - well, I suppose the cat's out of the bag. Of course I care about you. It’s why I thought I shan’t burden you any further. I’ve already insulted your generosity by assuming you hadn’t the agency to tell me that you didn’t want me, without taking into account that perhaps you were being genuine. It’s what caused all that trouble when we were in Brighton. And I didn’t want you to feel any more obligated to do anything more out of - I can’t describe it as anything other than pity, but I never wanted you to feel as though you had to pity me, either.”

You sigh, “Look, I get it. It’s complicated as all fuck. Trust me, I’ve been trying to work out all the ins and outs and ups and downs of it all for months, now. But anything here, it just - we don’t know what it’s gonna do, you know? There’s far bigger forces at play here, you literally travelled through time, surely that’s cocked the universe up cosmically somehow? I don’t even know,” you groan in frustration.

“Well, obviously, I wouldn’t have agreed to stay unless I absolutely knew it wasn’t going to put you at any risk. But Peter stated that… Lauren and the rest, they’ve yet to make any sort of return. And since they could have chosen any time, they surely would have by now. I think… I think they stayed, in the past. And it’s not as though the sky’s turned upside down as a result, or that the world is being run by lizard people, now.”

“Depends on who you ask,” you mutter to yourself with a smirk, before looking over at Ralph. “I’m just hurt that you didn’t think to tell me. I know, I know, it was that weekend, but still. You could have told me that you’d thought it safe to stay, regardless of when you’d figured it out.”

“Would you have still been mad at me?” He asks quietly.

“Honestly? Probably,” you shrug. “I’d probably have argued the toss with you over every single possibility that things could still go wrong. But I’d never, ever force you to come here. Haven’t I been saying it all along? I don’t want you to leave. I’ve been dreading the day that you’re not in my bed anymore, that the flat becomes too quiet again, that I’ll have to spend my evenings watching TV alone without your constant nagging.”

“I thought that rather bothered you,” the hint of a soft smile just about tugs at the corners of Ralph’s lips.

“Oh, it does,” you admit, laughing softly, “but I don’t even want to think about a life where I won’t hear any of that, again. You know, and - and just being reminded of you all the time. All our friends always asking after you, and talking about you, never letting me get over you. I’d stay up at night, staring at the bedroom door from the sofa, wondering what’d be worse; that, or you living your old life meaning that you’d never have existed in mine, meaning I’d have no memory of you at all.”

“I’d always perished the thought of leaving - well, all of you, but especially you,” Ralph’s voice is still quiet. “You’d always - always tell me to tell my sister and Lauren to shove it, but honestly, I don’t think I could ever do that without you there with me. Even if they were to throw me out and I had to find my own way around, nobody else would hold a candle to…” He takes a deep sigh. “I always… I know I’ve always been the hopeless romantic, it’s one of my biggest flaws. And after falling for Lauren as soon as I’d seen her, and everything that happened thereafter, I swore to myself that I’d never let myself do that, again. That’s why I joined the French Foreign Legion, so I could focus on the task at hand, and learning how to build a camaraderie with my fellow soldiers. Except none of them wanted to do that. And so I left, and I ended up right here, and it was only a few streets away that -”

“That some dickhead spilled coffee all over you,” you finish his sentence with a smirk.

“I told you then as well, didn’t I, you’re far from one of those,” Ralph looks at you softly. “But I felt it all come back again. Everything I felt when I first saw Lauren. And before Lauren, when it was Maggie. And before Maggie, when it was - oh, heavens, you don’t need to hear about all my failings. But every time, I acted too quickly, and I only caused myself shame and heartbreak. And when I ended up here, I needed - well, something or someone, anything to anchor me, I had no clue what was happening to me. But you were so kind to me, from the very beginning. And I didn’t want to jeopardise your generosity by ruining it the same way I ruin most other things. So I kept my feelings to myself, for once, hoping that the time to leave would catch up before I let my feelings grow. But here we are,” he sighs. “I suppose I shall have to come clean to the others, and seek refuge with one of them. Though not one of your friends as well, I would never put you in that position. I’d have to perhaps tell Loz, out of all of those…”

You frown, “But why would you have to?” He opens his mouth to answer, but you interrupt him, “You’ve not once asked me how I feel about you.”

“Yes, well, you made some things rather obvious in the flat,” he replies coolly.

“Fair enough,” you nod, “but don’t you think I’d only overreact like that if I was really upset? And that I’d only be that upset if I cared about you so much that it’d break my heart to think you could have lied to me? You’ve yet to ask me how I feel about all of this.”

Ralph wrings his hands together, wincing as though bracing for a physical impact as he asks, “Of course, my apologies. So… How do you feel?”

“It’s hard to say,” you admit, trying not to laugh at his offended face. “Okay, I know, I’m being a dick again. I’m just… I dunno, even though, like, I know now that I can say it, it’s still not easy to just, say out loud for the first time.” You let out a long and shaky breath. “I think that… I’ve never been in love before. But if feeling safer being around you, and always wanting to share my life with you, and dreading the day I never see you again, and my heart soaring every time your face lights up with happiness… I think all of those things are the kind of guff people talk about in those romance films. And I didn’t think those kinds of feelings happened in real life, but… I think I know it, now.” You hold his face in your hands and finally say the words that have been dying to leave you all this time. “I love you, Ralph.”

He looks awestruck back at you. You study his face for any other reaction at all, and after a few beats, any sign of life since he remains unmoving, but he soon gleefully grins, leaning in to kiss you. You meet him halfway, moving your arms to wrap around his neck as you press peck after peck against his lips. His arms wrap around your waist as you just kiss him, and nothing else, because nothing else matters. You only break away from each other for air, and to turn your heads to then resume kissing each other as the snow falls around you both.

It’s only when someone clears their throat to get your attention, commenting, “I know it’s Valentine’s Day, but Christ on a bike,” as they push past you, that you actually step away from each other for more than a split second.

You catch Ralph’s eye and hold your hand out to him, “Wanna go get some jelly babies, put on those face masks that make you look like you’re glowing and curl up watching crappy movies and stuffing our faces?”

“I could enjoy watching paint dry in your company, my love,” Ralph smiles warmly at you as he takes your hand, and you take a step back, aghast, but still intertwined with him.

“And where was Ralph the smooth-talker hiding this whole time?!” You ask incredulously, laughing as you fall into step with him.

“Oh, that’s nothing, darling,” he comments, and your heart flies into your throat. You’d heard him call you that in your dreams a hundred times over, but actually hearing it drives you wild. “As I said, I’ve always been quite the hopeless romantic. I’m afraid you’re going to be seeing that at full throttle, now.”

You cackle so hard you bend double. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m gonna see Full Throttle Ralph,” you just about manage to choke out the name through your laughter, and he frowns at you.

“I’m simply warning you that, in agreeing to our courtship, you understand that Ralph Penbury does nothing by halves.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna have to do a lot of catching up, then!” You joke, but he squeezes your hand.

“Oh, good gracious, no, you certainly don’t have to do that! You already do more than enough for me, and I don’t show love just to receive it back, anyway,” he shakes his head.

The journey back to your flat takes the best part of an hour, mostly because you keep interrupting your walk to pull Ralph in for more kisses on the way. You can’t help it, the way his face blushes with the cold just makes him look so adorable, who wouldn’t want to kiss him?!

Plus, when you’d gone to pick his sweets up, he’d told you he had somewhere else to be, run out of the shop, and returned minutes later just as you were leaving, with a bunch of flowers. “I’m cutting it a little short, I know, but would you like to be my Valentine?” He asks as he offers you them.

You take them as you exchange the bag of his sweets into his hands, gasping, “How did you find these so last minute?!”

“Well, they were in our window display,” he admits bashfully, and you laugh.

“Wait, these are from your shop?!”

Ralph nods. “Yes, but I don’t think they mind, too much. Babs was punching the air and telling me to ‘Get in, my son’, but I couldn’t leave you outside and I was technically born in time to be her father, let alone son,” he shakes his head, causing you to laugh even more.

“Shit, I forgot to answer you, didn’t I?!” You look over at Ralph adoringly. “I’d love to be your Valentine, Ralphie. D’you wanna be mine? I’m afraid the sweets won’t last nearly as long as these, as an offering, but -”

“They’re perfect. As is my Valentine this year,” he beams, kissing the part of your forehead not obscured by your hat.

Once you get home, you change out of your snow-soaked clothes and decide to wear the pyjamas you’d both gotten for Christmas from your parents. You wonder whether to tell your friends right off the bat what’s happened today. You know Ralph can keep a secret, but ever since you’d said those four words to him, he’s been practically shouting his devotion to you from the rooftops. As much as you can’t wait to share in this big milestone of yours with your best friends, you just want nothing more than some uninterrupted time to spend catching up with all the affection you’ve been so desperately wanting to give to Ralph this whole time, and vice versa. Besides, they’ve all got dates tonight, too. You don’t want to interrupt their evenings. That’s what you’ll tell them when they inevitably find out.

Instead, you spend the afternoon and well into the evening pampering yourself and your - Boyfriend? What would you even call Ralph? Although that remains short lived as he realises that face masks are just a barrier preventing more kissing from happening, and he pouts until he’s got full access once again. Every peck comes with its own sweet nothing - a declaration of love, a compliment, a comment of gratitude. Although he’d told you it wasn’t necessary, you do try to match his energy - but it just becomes exhaustive after a while.

You had your heart set on ordering from your favourite Chinese takeaway from this morning, before the day's events had transpired, but Ralph is more than happy to eat from there, as well. You even go so far as to try and teach him how to hold chopsticks, though his adorable attempts to keep interlocking your fingers to pull your hand to his lips to to kiss it instead are far more adorable.

After watching some cheesy rom-coms - or rather, spending the night cuddling and constantly kissing Ralph some more while Sandra Bullock tries to find love over and over on the TV - you eventually retire to bed. As you do, your phone chimes its specific tone to tell you the group chat has updated. Laying in bed, you unlock your phone to see a photo of Scott and his partner, on their sofa with a glass of wine each, which is then followed by Grace sharing a snap of her and her boyfriend wearing face masks together in her bathroom. Anna sends a mysterious snap of two fancy-looking meals and two glasses being clicked together, one certainly in her own hand but the other is held by a mystery man, and Connor shares a very sweet photo of him and Ralph's friend Lauren in a restaurant booth together.

Ralph's head rests on top of yours as you show him the photos, and you can feel his smile getting wider at the photo of his two friends from different parts of his life here sitting so closely together. You lean your head up to grin at him, "Should we?”

He smiles back at you as you switch to your camera app. You aim it at you and Ralph and look back over at him, for him to press a kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes, smiling into it, and tap at the screen, your muscle memory still knowing exactly where the shutter is without having to see the screen. You type “happy vday from me and my valentine, too 😘”, hit send, laugh loudly with Ralph as you see all four speech bubbles show up at once, and then put your phone on silent and lay it face-down on your nightstand.

You roll back over to snuggle up against his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin as he embraces you. “Goodnight, my love,” you hear him whisper in your ear. “Pleasant dreams.”

“Night, Ralphie. Love you,” you mutter back, holding him tight and breathing in deeply, finally free to indulge all you want in the prospect of having a relationship with the man you’ve been in love with for the last five months.

next chapter

[threewaywithdelusion]

I’ve been seeing a lot of posts complaining about mom Steve and I have thoughts.

Like, I agree with a lot of it. Honestly, fictional parents confuse me sometimes (especially when people write them stricter than canon), even when they aren’t teenage boys. Like Hopper? Absolutely cares about his kids dating. El is going to be fighting to bring Mike over for the rest of her life. They’re going to be 20-something with Hopper still trying to stick them in separate rooms. Even once they get married, Hopper’s gonna grumble about them getting to share a bed. (He’ll be more careful not to overstep with Joyce’s boys, especially Jonathan since he’s older, but Will is definitely going to get a speech about being the man in the relationship and treating your girlfriend with respect (and then a later, much more confused speech about treating your boyfriend with respect)).

Joyce? That woman has been through way too much shit to give a shit. Jonathan wants Nancy to sleep over? Done. Will’s gay? Not a problem, here are some condoms. El’s sneaking Mike through the window so Hopper won’t see? Joyce walks by and casually says “the back door is unlocked, you might want to try that instead.”

Sorry, I got sidetracked. The point is Steve. If he was gonna be like anyone’s parents, it would be my parents (“you’re doing nerd stuff alone at home on a Friday night? Don’t you have friends? Go to a party!”). But barring that, he’s definitely the older brother, even if they call him mom.

He doesn’t care if they swear! El says “frick” or “gosh darn” in front of him one time because she heard it somewhere and he sits her down and teaches her proper swear words so she won’t get teased in school. He rents the kids r-rated movies and then lies to their parents faces when they have nightmares. He hears them say something anatomically impossible about sex and ends up giving them a sex talk. He chaperones their parties because he’s cooler than an adult but still old enough to make sure no one’s drinking themselves to death, and then ends up cleaning puke out of the shower. He kisses his co-chaperone at the party (you can pick your favorite Steve love interest) and all the freshmen squeal and stare and he has to go hide upstairs.

He’s in his pjs in bed and gets a frantic walkie-talkie call from Dustin that they have to go to the store RIGHT NOW because he wants to buy something and the sale ends at midnight. Steve says no a million times but gets bribed into it when Dustin promises to watch a basketball game with him in exchange for the ride. (My little sister did this to me. She wanted to go to TARGET to buy SHEETS. She was a weird child).

Steve’s the one they call when they need something but can’t go to their parents. He buys them booze and condoms and fake IDs, all of which come with lectures on being safe and a million threats on how he’ll kill them if they act stupid. He picks them up from parties when they’ve overdone it. He bails them out of jail (Dustin or El would absolutely get themselves arrested somehow) and doesn’t tell their parents but brings it up every chance he gets for the rest of forever.

Yeah, they call him mom. They’re trying to annoy him, because that’s what little siblings do. And Steve is definitely their big brother.

[crissiebaby]

Double Diaper Dare: Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, public humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, WAM, hypermessing, hypnosis, diaper filling, slime transformation, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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Watching from afar, Crissie wasn’t sure if she should step in or let Codi lie in the bed she had made for her. With Lotte cornering Codi step by step, her time to act was fast depleting. As much as her bratty nature wanted to let Codi anguish in kinky misery, she figured should be a good sport and give Codi a fighting chance. 

Running over to the counter, Crissie leaped onto the register stand, much to the nearby employees’ disapproval, and snatched the PA microphone. “Attention all CrissBaby shoppers, this is your blushy friend, Crissie, speaking. Yes, the one and only CrissieBaby” she said, stiff-arming the male employee next to her as she rambled on, “We’ve got a wide selection of fluffy diapers on sale in aisle 69. For a free coupon, please check in your butt-OOF!”

Before Crissie could continue, a plain-looking security guard showed up to put a stop to all the fun. He quickly grabbed Crissie around her waist and pulled her off of the check-out counter. “Causing trouble, are we?” said the guard, sounding almost delighted to have someone acting out in the store. He set Crissie down on her feet, keeping a firm hand on her wrist.

“Uhhhhh…no?” said Crissie, lowering her head and giving the guard the biggest pair of puppy-dog eyes she could muster. Sadly, the look the guard gave in return was more than enough to let her know she wasn’t getting off the hook that easily.

Meanwhile, Codi had taken Crissie’s distraction and ran with it. It wasn’t much but it got Lotte to look away long enough for her to dash into the nearest aisle. However, much like a wolf with her scent held deep in its nostrils, Lotte refused to let Codi get away so easily, forcing Codi into stealth mode as she snaked her way through the rows of diaper supplies until she reached the far back wall of the main floor. With nowhere else to go, she ducked through a nearby entryway into the next room only to be utterly shocked by what she found.

Next to the main CrissBaby sales floor was a space that looked more like a daycare than an actual store. There were changing tables, a playpen with dozens of toys set up, and a small media area where a TV was playing Finding Dori on loop. Unsurprisingly, no CrissBaby setup would be complete without a bit of kinky fun. Beyond the babyish stuff were a few punishment tools that looked more fit for a dungeon than a nursery.

With her jaw hanging open, Codi took a step backward, wanting to put as much distance between herself and this room as possible. The last thing she needed was for Crissie's mind to explode with ideas over the discovery of an in-store play area. Sadly, as she backed up, she bumped into a squishy set of boobs. She didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

“First, my butt. Now, my boobs. Someone needs to teach you that foreplay is supposed to wait until after the first date…or during if you’re feeling kinky enough,” said Lotte as she ran her fingers through Codi’s hair. Brushing the strands away from Codi’s ear, she leaned and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher.”

Before Codi could formulate a proper rebuttal, she was being led by Lotte through the nursery over to where the more dungeon-esque items were stationed. “W-Wait, I swear I’m not normally like this,” she pleaded, fumbling over her own words in an attempt to avoid punishment, “I’m so, so sorry that I hit your butt. I promise I’ll never do anything like that again.”

“Oh, I know you won’t, sweetie, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of this. Bratty girls like you need to be taught a lesson,” said Lotte as she guided Codi toward a set of two sex chairs. The chairs were simply designed with two leather, padded pedestals to kneel down on and a central padded platform to lean over, placing the subject in a perfect spanking position. The bright red color of the leather chair clearly stood out against the pastel wonderland that made up the rest of the nursery.

Codi was sweating bullets as she was forced to march toward the sex chairs. “P-Please, I’m really, really sorry! This was all just a big joke! My friend Crissie and I were playin-MMMMMF!!” said Codi, her words suddenly cut off by a large pacifier being shoved into her mouth.

“That’s enough outta you. I don’t know who your Big is but they clearly need to show you a lot more discipline,” taunted Lotte, giving Codi a firm swat on her padded rump and causing her to yelp in anticipation of more to come.

However, right before Lotte could get Codi hooked up to her sex chair, the security guard made his grand entrance with Crissie tucked under his arm. “Lemme go, you meanie head!” shouted Crissie as she kicked her legs back and forth, refusing to let the guard get away with an easy capture.

“Not until you’ve learned your lesson,” said the guard, who was undeterred by Crissie’s flailing tantrum. He walked up to the row of sex chairs and proceeded to strap Crissie into one before yanking her diaper down, “Hey Lotte, get a load of this! Our resident Crissie impersonator is looking a bit chaste.”

As the guard tapped Crissie’s chastity belt to make a big show of his discovery, Crissie was dying of blushiness. She buried her face into the padded bench, silently cursing Codi for giving her such a rotten dare. It was already bad enough when she got recognized by random bystanders. To be taunted as a fake version of herself was somehow far worse.

“I see you’re also dealing with a naughty troublemaker, Lotte. Do you mind taking this one off my hands? I need to get back to my post,” asked the guard, giving Crissie’s right butt cheek a playful thump. 

Nodding her head, Lotte joined the guard in strapping down her mischievous Little. “I should be more than capable of handling these two. See you after work, hot stuff,” she said, leaning in and planting a kiss on the guard’s cheek. The guard then bashfully tipped his cap to Lotte before rushing out of the room, while Lotte wandered over to a wall of paddles, carefully selecting her weapon of choice.

“Well, that was adorable,” commented Crissie, her mind already filling with ideas of a diaper store worker and her adorably subby security guard hubby. She whipped her head toward Codi wearing a cheeky smile, “Hey Codi, now would probably be a good time to turn to slime so you could escape your restraints.” Sticking her chin out and turning away from Crissie, Codi refused to let Crissie get the satisfaction of watching her alter her form, even if it meant being on the receiving end of a brutal spanking. Besides, she had far more tactful ways of dealing with her situation than aiming for a risky escape plan.

Speaking of which, Lotte returned with a wide, pastel pink paddle in hand. Its wooden surface had seven holes carved into it, which were certain to add an extra sting to each impact. “Okay now, little ones, it’s time we teach you what happens when you decide to be on your brattiest behavior here at the CrissBaby Store,” she said, a twinge of sadistic joy reverberating throughout her tone, “Now who wants to go first?” “She does!” screamed both Crissie and Codi, not hesitating for an instant to throw the other under the bus.

Amused by Crissie and Codi’s bullheadedness, Lotte quickly came up with a compromise that was sure to make neither of them happy. “How about I just go back and forth then,” she said, her words drenched in condescension. If these girls were still refusing to repent for their brattiness in the face of an excruciatingly painful punishment, then there was no chance she was going easy on them.

*SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!*

The crackling sounds of wood and skin crashing together were as haunting as they were wince-inducing. Out in the main area of the store, shoppers listened in to the mother of all spankings being dealt to the pair of helpless, yet deserving girls. Still, much to their surprise, neither girl could be heard screaming out in pain.

“OH, FUCK YES!!!” shouted Crissie, as what should’ve been painful stings were partially nullified by her chastity belt, both of which vibrated tremendously with each smack, “Don’t be afraid to- *SMACK!* OHHHH! …put your back into it.”

Meanwhile, stationed next to her, stoned-faced, was Codi. While Crissie’s spanks were taken pleasurably, Codi had selected a much different approach to surviving her punishment. Just before each impact, she had her rear revert back to its slime form for a split second, making it so not even as much as a pinprick was felt no matter how hard Lotte swung. Her only regret was that she couldn’t enjoy hearing Crissie beg for mercy. “Of course, a diaper perv like her would find this scenario pleasurable,” she thought, slightly regretting her previous decision to lock her into that chastity belt.

After several minutes of non-stop wacking, it was Lotte who ended up conceding. Lowering the paddle, she leaned against Codi’s sex chair to catch her breath. “What are…your asses…made of?” she asked, gasping for air. The paddle slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground as if to signal a white flag.

“Mmmmmm,” moaned Crissie, recovering from the immense satisfaction she got from having her butt brutalized, “You up for another round, Codi?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Edited by AllySmolShork

[piduai]

now I gotta see how everyone in GK would be in an office setting..especially my toxic king usami

tsurumi: head of an important but insane people department (like sales) & everyone under him is obsessed with him and SEETHING each time his wife drops by the office. he is a toxic boss that encourages unhealthy competition and drama and is the king of micromanaging though he does it in secret. he knows everyone's business and has treated Each of the employees under him & as well as a few from other departments to dinners just to learn about them and their weaknesses. he's in his element during company parties/nomikais because he doesn't drink but he listens. and he talks. and manipulates. he likes setting people against each other just for fun. but he's also GOOD at his job and his dept's performance is always through the roof though the turnover rate is no joke because he burns people out easily

usami: he's good at his job, great even, because he wants to impress tsurumi and be his number one candy baby. has slept with half of the women and a quarter of the men in the office. is also a terrible gossip, the kind of guy who just walks around and talks shit about people all the fucking time. has a nasty habit of bullying newbies tsurumi shows too much interest in, though he swears it's in good faith if he gets caught, though usually he doesn't. extremely passive-aggressive but also very friendly and sociable if he needs/wants to be, he's the master of putting on the customer service smile. jerks off in the office bathroom 5 times a day, 7 if tsurumi praises him

kikuta: a good for nothing moron who somehow got a rather high position despite being incompetent. his underlings love him though, he may be a shit boss who can't learn how to filter stuff in excel but he's a great amiable guy who sometimes treats them to meals and is a fun chat. he takes 3 smoking breaks per hour and always stinks of that shit, and stinks up any place he goes to too because the stuff he smokes is atomic. tsurumi hates his ass and hates having to do work with his department because the papers kikuta touched Will stink of tobacco. honestly nobody really knows how he manages to keep his job because he screws up sooo much, people just like him and take pity on him

sugimoto: would NOT work in an office ever because his anger management is simply not good and he'd get in physical fights over trivial shit for which he'd get fired. the closest would be delivery guy of stuff like stationery or company bentos or the post or something, i think he'd be fine with carrying stuff around. he smiled at ogata once (at the woman behind him actually) which led to ogata fantasizing about locking him in a shipping container and torturing him there for a year. so now each time the handsome and friendly delivery guy makes the deliveries ogata hides somewhere

ogata: does not work in the insane people department (sales) due to his introverted nature but has been to the tsurudinner which left him unhinged. is the IT guy backup (being the main IT guy means fixing people's computers which he doesn't care about) and is generally great, the company servers are thriving, the cloud is neat and orderly, nobody could complain. would not participate in a company party/nomikai with a gun to his head. leaves work exactly on time, not a minute later, for which everyone resents him (on top of being a creep and a weirdo and having bad vibes). women in the office have learnt to steer clear of him because way too often he claims he never received the important papers they have personally handed to him which has proven to be a problem on multiple occasions

kiroranke: terrible office flirt who knocked up at least two women and humbly paid for their abortions (#prochoice #malefeminist). has been pinning after both wilk and sofia (both are his superiors) for yearssss tho neither will give him the time of the day #sad. is some kind of sub-chief/second in command, not at the top of the food chain but not a nobody either, which is why his pleas of going to a union falls on deaf ears because for people higher than him it's against their interests, while people lower than him think they're too insignificant to be the catalysts of change and are simultaneously afraid of losing their jobs. loves threatening to call the labor standards inspection on his bosses each time they get out of line which is why they don't really like him, but he's too good at his job & knows what he's doing so they can't lay him off

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

All Sales Final

You and Ran are far from perfect but he knows that the two of you can be something beautiful.

Just a touch of angst a good bit of fluff and a side of banter? Word count: at least 15 words. Idk I wrote this on my phone it's fully unedited I'm sorry if it's trash. Also this one's for @feitania 🫰

Bickering is exhausting. The tension in your body from emotional defensiveness manifesting physically is decidedly nightmarish and the rate of petty fights breaking out between your boyfriend and yourself spells doom for your physical comfort. Things just keep getting worse- little irritations festering as you pick at the scabs of wounds unhealed in every argument.

"i just," you sigh, "I just feel like we've been a mess. Like a dumpster fire in July."

What makes matters worse is how half the time, the fights dontt even seem to irritate Ran. He just stood there, half stifled smile and cheeky comments at the ready. It felt like even after so many months, he didn't take you seriously, downplayed your feelings. He left you feeling like your reactions were too big, emotions too strong, that you were just too much to handle.

The beginnings of a smile crooks Ran's lips up at one side, "Give it time girl," he places two fingers through the belt loop of your trousers and wiggles his thumb under the hem of your shirt to rub a little circle on the skin there. In a soft voice, he continues, "the fire feels divine."

You stop to look at your boyfriend and can't help the single short barked laugh that comes tumbling out of your mouth despite you best efforts to stop it. "That's... not as romantic as you think it is, Ran."

His smile breaks through fully and his hand slips under your shirt to gently press on the small of your back. "But I know you, and it didn't have to be, now did it?" The pressure on the small of your back is light. Inviting. Enticing. Familiar. His left hand trails up to your face and his pointer finger nestles under your jawline to tilt your head up to look him in his eyes.

There, you see the softest purple hue and the bile of darkness and negativity begins to melt away. "I'm not easy. My life is chaotic and unpredictable. It's hard for both of us and I know that. It's going to be harder if you feel like you're inconvenience me by just...being you."

Your mouth opens but he gives you a look so earnest you almost swear you see the little boy who needed to be heard so long ago and you chew your cheek instead.

"I know you doubt your reactions to everything and that you debate what to leave be and what and when to bring it up. And for what it's worth, I know my reactions don't help. Old habits die hard after all. But I love you. You. Who you are. For all your faults and the way you put up with mine. I want you as is, knowing sales are final."

A moment of silence meanders through the room like a thick cloud overhead. "You're a real sweet talker, Haitani." Your voice is suddenly so small it could blow away in the slightest breeze. "A real salesman with that elevator pitch." You match his embrace and circle your arms around his frame.

"Oh yeah? I'm usually more of the manager type but...when can I collect my commission?" Smirking lips capture yours and you think maybe this can work out...even if that joke was just awful.

[hillbillyoracle]

Hello, I’ve recently subscribed to your patreon and, first off, it’s one of the best metaphysical ones I’ve seen; your ideas are both very clearly explained and satisfyingly in depth! Second, I was curious whether there are any particular sources which you’ve found helpful in researching astrology, as well as how it connects to tarot (other than the sources on tarot in particular you have linked here in your blog description)

I'm so glad you're enjoying it! And appreciate your patience as I try to get a post up this week while fighting through all the pollen here.

Yes! There are a few.

I never read a beginner book, I kind of jumped in the deep end, so I don't have one to recommend personally. I have seen On the Heavenly Spheres by Helen Avelar and Luis Robiero recommended a lot.

For astrology generally, I really recommend the Astrology Podcast. It is not short form, the episodes are long. But if you can listen to them in chunks they go over so much good stuff. I have a directory of some of their best educational episodes here but they added many more educational ones since. You could basically get a masterclass just listening to the podcast.

Chris Brennan's Hellenistic Astrology book is amazing, but very dense. It's an intermediate to advanced text. Someone kindly gifted it to me several years ago and I'm still making my way through it.

For the decans through tarot and the like, T. Susan Chang kindly has left her amazing Reading the Decans series up which is a treasure trove unto itself. Her book 36 Secrets is also a great read.

For the Decans themselves, Austin Coppock's 36 Faces has been well reviewed by those who could get their hands on the first couple print runs. It's sold out now but it's one to keep an eye out for. I swear the moment I get the notice he's on sale, I'm grabbing it.

[galaxyedging]

I finished the amazing Fair Trade by @misspearly1. Then woke up at like 3am with this on my mind.

Max Phillips x ofc (no name or description)

Warnings: vampire stuff, a little angst, swearing.

More Than a Fair Trade

The room was dimly lit, the light of the crescent moon through the open window and the glow from the unwatched TV in the corner barely illuminated her. Even in the dark nobody could miss how beautiful she was, or so Max believed. He couldn't believe his luck when he first laid eyes on her. On top of being highly educated, the top of her department in sale, she was drop dead gorgeous! The perfect addition to his team.

Max had followed her home to make the whole 'transition' easier, out of the way of nosy Evan, or so he told himself. The truth was Max was curious, he wanted to see who she was, how she lived. He wanted more than their early morning chats could tell him.

For the last hour he'd peered through her windows. There was no sign of a boyfriend, or a girlfriend. No pets. Thankfully, no kids. No, she lived alone. From his spot in the tree outside her bedroom, he saw her switch off the TV and take out her phone. The tiny screen highlighted her delicate features, those beautiful eyes, the ones that he always tried to catch over the walls of her cubicle seem to shimmer as she read something on her screen. A faint smile played on her lips, it made them look all the more inviting. The smile spread until it morphed into a grimace and tears flowed from her eyes. Her silent sobbing had Max moving with inhuman speed and agility, he was through her window into her room in seconds. As she moved to throw a lamp at him he caught her eye.

"Stop!" His voice seemed to echo eerily round the room. "Put it down, sit on the bed."

Panic rose in her as she had no choice but to obey him. As she sat on the bed Max came to sit down next to her. "Relax. Everything is fine, babe."

The tension left her body, she sat calmly next to him.

"What's got you all upset?" Max asked.

He could feel her fight against his power, he could tell it was something she wouldn't normally feel comfortable telling anyone.

"Hey. You can tell me." He stroked her jaw gently. He was surprised when she actually leaned into his hand of her own free will.

"I was reading a story. A love story. The characters were so happy together and I..." More tears flowed from her eyes, she screwed them shut. "...I'm so lonely. I work two jobs, spent all my free time looking after my aunt. I don't get time to meet anyone. I'm scared I'll never love again. That I'll die completely alone."

Max felt her resistance tapper off as the words flowed from her. Once she started, she wanted to tell someone. Wanted to tell him. This was perfect, she was unhappy in her life, one quick bite, her pain was done and he had a beautiful new partner. Business partner. He leaned closer, drawing her to him with a hand cupped on her jaw, ready to make her his. One of his team. She gave little resistance to his embrace. He tilted her head to expose her neck, her head ended up against his shoulder, her arms around his waist. His head then ended on top of hers. His arms around her, cradling her. Max lost track of how long they sat there. Of how long he listened to her steady heartbeat. Of how long he enjoy her warmth. Of how long he kept telling himself he would turn her in a minute. Eventually, he made himself leave, before he did, he made her forget everything.

It was the best night's sleep she'd had in a while, she felt so rested she even got to the office earlier than usual, to get a jump on her day. She might even get time after work to swing by the exhibition she wanted to see before visiting her aunt. She'd been too busy, staying behind and catching up with her data all week, to go. The spring in her step as she made her way to the copy room was halted by her boss, Max, coming over to greet her.

"Morning. I just wanted to say thanks for staying late this week to stay on top of things." He smiled at her, the genuine one that made her heart flutter. Unbeknown to her, Max hear it every time. It was only now he realised how endearing he found it.

"Thank you but I'm just doing my job." She blushed before squeezing passed his broad frame to carry on her way.

During lunch which, of course, she ate at her desk usually while working, Max saw her browsing the museum website. In between bites of her homemade sandwiches, she doodled hieroglyphs with her free hand.

Max had been a Egyptology geek as a kid so he recognised a few symbols. It took him back to the days he would pretend to he was an explorer in the sand box. It was the wave of nostalgia that carried him to the museum that night. Or so he told himself. At first, he watched her from afar. He watched the way her brow creased and her lips parted in thought. The way her face lit up when she saw something particularly eye catching. She was engrossed in reading all the information so Max felt bold enough to get closer to her. She almost caught him a couple of times. Max wasn't sure if she was fast or he was getting slow. Maybe he just liked the thrill of toying with her. Of almost getting caught. The last time she almost caught him, he lingered, waited until he could see her eyelashes flutter in her profile as she turned towards him. Any normal man would have been caught but Max slipped out of sight lightening fast.

Leaving the museum, she hummed contentedly. 'Perfect.' Max thought. She was happy, her blood would taste all the sweeter for it. Her last few moments of life would be happy ones. Not that it mattered to Max.

With the winter nights drawing in it was dark when she walked through an empty side street. All alone she hugged her plush, knee length coat around her tightly. Max stalked behind her, gaining on her just as she passed an alley. All he had to do was reach out to close the small gap. He could drag her into the dark of the secluded alley, turn her and be on his way. Wrapping his arm around her waist he lifted her easily. She screamed and thrashed as he held her close with his hand over her mouth. "Shhhh. Be quiet." He whispered in her ear. She complied but kept on fighting his grasp. Max's lips quirked up in a smile, it grew when she finally got into a position to land a solid punch on him. In the office she was generally quiet and polite. Some of the discussions between the guys obviously didn't sit well with her. Their school boy humour wasn't her thing. She never made a big thing of it, until it was something inappropriate, then she would very simply and eloquently put them in there place. Max had seen the fire burning under the surface when anyone had crossed her. She was ever the diplomat but if she needed to she would, very efficiently and professionally, rip them a new one. Max could only imagine what she would be like without having to restrain herself. Once he turned her, he could see for himself.

"Relax. Stay still." He urged.

When she went limp in his arms he tugged on her silky soft hair, exposing her sweet smelling neck to him. She always smelled so good. Like coconut and vanilla, and oddly, marshmallow? Her sweet scent always stayed with him. It lingered on him after their last encounter. He let his lips linger on her skin before he parted them to sink his fangs into her flesh. That's earned him a small sigh from her. She was enjoying his touch.

Max was a lot of things, an asshole and killer, he wasn't a creep. Touching her, even if she seemed to be enjoying it, in her current state was definitely creepy.

The museum had been fun. It'd been so long since she'd treated herself to some solid 'me time'. She was so happy she practically floated from the museum to the subway in a haze. Even her aunt noticed she was in a good mood, even if teh older woman didn't remember who she was. The good mood lasted until she got home. Until a text from her boss came through 'Take the day off tomorrow. We don’t need everyone in.' What the hell?! She couldn't afford to lose a day's pay! Since when was working an option? If they 'don't need everyone' why can't someone else stay home?

Max winced when her name came up on his screen. 'Be cool, just answer it.' he told himself.

"Max! What do you mean I'm not needed to work?!" He could hear the fire in her tone.

Max had never thought of himself as submissive yet he couldn't help think of how much he would enjoy her taking control of him.

"Relax, sweetheart. There's some maintenance work going on. You'll still get paid. I cleared it with management." He'd threatened to eat payroll, same thing.

"Oh. OK. Erm, thank you." She sounded charmingly confused. Max could imagine the cute little look on her face. "Well, have a good night, Max."

"Yeah, you too." He hung up.

Tomorrow was Friday so he had three whole days free of her to work out why he couldn't bite her. He'd had two perfect opportunities. Each time he just couldn't bring himself to take that bite. It was stupid. She was smart, sweet, likeable, beautiful, with a ruthless edge underneath it all. She would make the perfect partner. In business. Max thought about all the time they had spent together over the months. When they'd stayed late and it was just the two of them. Was there something she'd done to make him think that she wasn't worth turning and he'd forgotten while his subconscious had clung to it? They'd had lively debates about current affairs, pop culture. Turns out they had very similar tastes. Both of them agreed on the important stuff. Like Die Hard being a Christmas movie. She'd always treated him well, even when Evan told everyone about how he was in college.

Max couldn't think of a single time she had done anything to make him dislike her. Maybe if her talked about it with someone, it would help. This thing had started to affect his appetite. Which was making him feel ill. He felt sick when he'd tried to bite her earlier. Maybe it was all the store bought blood he'd been eating. He hadn't eaten fresh since her started at this office.

Management was keen for him to do his thing there. Max wanted to take his time to get to know them, he wasn't just going to give the gift to anyone. So far there was only one person he'd found worthy and he just couldn't seal the deal. Yeah, he definitely needed to talk to someone about it. Trouble was there was only one person he wanted to talk to about it.

That's how he ended up in her living room an hour later. She sat glamoured on the sofa as he looked over her things. Her shelves had a couple of Funko pops. The Mandalorian. Klaus from The Umbrella Academy. She played video games. GTA, Batman, The Last of Us. Most of The Witcher books sat on the shelf, only a couple looked like they had been read.

"You didn't like this one?" He tapped the second one, that looked half read with a bookmark stuck in it.

"I got busy. I didn't get time to read it." She answered him simply.

"With your aunt? Is that why you moved here?" He continued to scan her shelves. Jurassic Park DVD Collection. Nice.

"Yes. Her family don't speak to her, stupid family drama, she needed someone. I needed a change." She shrugged.

"A change?" He pushed.

"Bad break up." A mixture of anger and something else flared in him.

He guessed it was the something else that drove him to ask his next question. "Is that why you were crying over that story? You miss him?"

"No. Not one bit." The tightness in Max's chest eased at her words. A tightness that he didn't realise was there. He did begin to realise this was a really bad idea.

He'd given her the day off to get away from her. Erasing her memory again, he left as quickly as he could. His overpriced shoes stomping up the sidewalk to his car parked half a block away. Looking in the rear view mirror he caught the pout on his own face. He made the decision there and then to move up his timetable. He'd spent tomorrow making his final choices on who to turn, fuck with Evan a little then on Monday he'd turn who he needed.

Sitting at his desk the next day, he felt his concentration slipping it wandered to the desk out there. The one where she sat, empty. He couldn't hear the steady beat of her heart. Too lost in thought he moved on instinct. He found himself sitting at her desk and logging into her computer. Pulling up her search history he saw something that rang a bell, something she'd made reference to when she'd called herself a geek one time.

"Tumblr." He muttered to him as he clicked on it. Thankfully, she was still logged in. It took him a minute to get used to the dashboard but he found the story she'd been reading. Hearing footsteps and heartbeats return from lunch he sent the link to himself. Returning to his office he sat on the sofa. Opening up the link on his phone he began to read. It was a fanfiction.

He scoffed "Really?". Scrolling he half heartily scanned the words, for the first chapter. He laughed at himself when the impulse to read the next chapter hit him. Since the only other thing he had planned was a meeting with Evan he gleefully cancelled and settled down to read the next chapter. And the next. And the next. Only moving occasionally adjust himself in his pants at the more exciting parts. When he got to the ending he understood why she had cried. The characters found something beautiful in a an otherwise ugly place. He also understood why he couldn't bite her. He didn't want to end her life, he wanted to make it better. He wanted to make her happy, he wanted to see her smile and know he was the cause. Fuck, he come here for revenge and he'd managed to catch feelings.

That was the last straw. Monday. He'd turn her first, she was always in early to set up for the day. A quick staff meeting then he'd start turning the others. Done.

Monday rolled around, Max had gotten in even earlier. He stood by her desk waiting. When she got in, he'd grab her, rip the red scarf from her graceful neck, turn her and that would be that. He steeled himself as he saw her coming, he wouldn't be swayed by his feelings for her.

Maybe he would ask her if she wanted to be turned, if she did that would ensure that she'd be loyal to his vision. That made sense. He had a plan, he couldn't abandon it for a woman. Even if she did fill the void in his chest left when his heart stopped. He'd ask her then turn her or scare her away depending on her answer.

"Morning Max. What brings you to my desk?" The moved close to him to put down her things. Coconut, vanilla, marshmallows.

"I have a question..." he began. Those eyes of hers looked at him. She gave him her full attention. It made his room temperature body feel warm. "...would you let me take you out for coffee?"

Those eyes blinked owlishly at him. "I know you're busy but we could go at lunch." He added hoping to help her make her decision.

"Like..like a date?" Her voice was just about a whisper.

"Only if you want." His voice was not much louder.

"Yeah. I'd like that." She tried to reign in the smile on her face as it threatened to break it in two.

"Yeah?" Max's own smile was just as big.

"Yeah." She giggled. Max decided there and then it was his new favourite sound.

The next day, Max quit. Evan could kept his job, and his pathetic life. Max didn't get his revenge but he got something much better. To him it was more than a fair trade.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody

[artificialqueens]

🎁 And It's a Potion (Lady Camden x Bosco) for Puppy - Athena2

SECRET QUEEN 2022 by @buffyathena

Summary: Bosco works at a magic shop, and must track down her crush, Camden, after accidentally selling her a love potion.

A/N: I was so excited to do secret Santa and write this!! Thank you so much to Writ for helping me come with ideas and for beta-ing this, I seriously couldn't have done it without you. Puppy, I really hope you enjoy this, and have a great holiday!

(Title from Potion by Dua Lipa)

Inventory is never a fun day for Bosco over at Jinkx’s shop, and they have to do it twice a week. The bulk of what they sell is potions, which Jinkx brews themself, and which have a tendency to go haywire after more than a few days—hence the constant inventory of new ones. Jinkx had a never-ending supply of stories about things that had gone wrong, including a flying cat. So Bosco always makes sure to be careful when they lay out the new vials: ten love potions and ten sleep potions on the counter by the register, since they’re the most popular. Then they arrange the other products in rows of five on each shelf, containing potions, creams, and powders for healing minor illnesses, centering visions for psychics, and temporarily changing appearances, along with 20 others. The rest of the shop sells supplies and cauldrons and other usual witch supplies.

Bosco lines up the love and sleep potions, then whirls around when the bell rings, and in walks the one person who always makes the day better.

“Morning, Camden!” Bosco smiles cheerfully.

“Morning,” Camden returns, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. There are gray half-moons under her blue eyes, but they still light up with her smile. She’s been a constant fixture at the shop, mostly for sleeping potions so she could get some actual rest amid the flurry of ballet performances, or cream for all the aches and pains after.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“Do you have any sleep potions?”

Bosco nods. “Shouldn’t you be able to sleep after all that dancing you do?”

“You would think.” Camden sighs. “Lately I think I’m thinking too much. About…stuff. Stuff I probably shouldn’t think about.” She quickly looks away from them, fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket.

“You said ‘think’ way too much,” Bosco says. “Thinking sucks. That’s why I try not to.”

“I think that might be pretty obvious sometimes,” Camden teases, and Bosco grins.

“I’m gonna sue you for slandering my good name. That’s right, slander. That’s a word only us true intellectuals know.” They pat their chest proudly.

Bosco isn’t sure either of them fully knows what slander means, but people always say it on TV in situations just like this. And besides, it makes Camden laugh, her nose wrinkling up, and Bosco takes it as a win. They’re so distracted by the effects of their victory, in fact, that they grab a vial without really looking at it.

“About three sips of this should be good for the night,” Bosco says, ringing up the sale and sliding Camden the bottle.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. If that doesn’t work, you could always count horses,” Bosco suggests.

Camden blinks. “It’s sheep.”

“Horses are cooler. Fight me.”

Camden laughs again. “I’ll take your word for it.” And then she’s gone, her red hair waving behind her.

Bosco sighs and sags against the counter, their elbow knocking over the row of love potions. They pick them back up, heart skipping a beat when there’s only nine, instead of ten, like there should be.

Bosco forces in a breath. Maybe they’re just miscounting, or mixing things up. After all, the dark blue of the sleep potion is close to the purple love potion. Maybe too close, Bosco thinks, as a quick scan doesn’t help sort the potions out. Bosco tears a hand through their hair, then knocks the vials over again in the rush to count them properly. Ten sleep potions, just like they had marked down this morning. But only nine love potions.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Swearing this early is never a good sign.” Bosco looks up to see Jinkx in the doorway, bagel in hand.

“You do it every morning.”

“Exactly. So what’s the issue?”

“Camden took a love potion.”

“Did she drink it?” Jinkx asks around a mouthful of bagel, “Because it would make my life much easier if she did.” With all the feelings they didn’t want to admit, Bosco often spilled them all to Jinkx for hours at a time, then tried to deny they even felt that way for Camden at all. They’ve never convinced either of them.

“Well, shit, it’d be easier for me too if she drank it!” Bosco splutters. “But it was an accident. I wouldn’t give her one on purpose.”

Bosco would be lying if they said they hadn’t thought about it, just for a few seconds before shaking the temptation off. It would be easy, more than easy, to slip a few drops of a love potion into one of Camden’s sleep potions. Then she would fall in love with Bosco, and they wouldn’t have to make the first move, risk ruining their kind-of friendship. Wouldn’t have to admit they like Camden that much, in that way. But Bosco would never do that. They could never manipulate Camden like that, force her into loving them.

Jinkx nods to themself.

“Plus it’s really strong. Like, follow the person you love across the country and die for them like this is Romeo and Juliet strong. It could make her do something…bad.” Bosco doesn’t even want to think about Camden under the control of something that powerful. “Do you have, like, customer records or something? So I can call her?”

“I sell potions for a living, you tell me,” Jinkx says dryly.

Bosco groans. “How am I gonna stop her from taking it?”

“I guess you have to find her,” Jinkx says.

Bosco sighs and runs out the door. Camden usually goes to the Black Tea Shop in town after she visits, and that’s where they head.

Joe’s tea shop is normally a place Bosco loves, with black-and-white striped walls and spooky decor year-round, plus a piano wedged into the corner. But they tear inside, the door slamming into the wall, and look around breathlessly, giving a quick wave to Pythia – a regular customer at Jinkx's – before turning to Joe.

“Is Camden here?” they demand. Every part of their body is on alert; sweat trickles down their neck, heart racing from the run and from the worry.

“Sorry, love, she left a few minutes ago. Said she wanted her tea to-go today, so she could go home and take a nap.”

It robs Bosco of even more air. Not only is Camden already on her way home, but she’s clearly intending to take that potion when she gets there.

“Everything all right?” Joe’s tattooed, ring-covered hand settles over theirs, and Bosco’s face burns from the comfort.

“Do you know where she lives? It’s really important.”

Joe looks at them deeply, like he’s sizing them up, trying to decide if they’re worthy of the information. “You need to help her, don’t you?”

“How did you—”

“I just know sometimes,” he says firmly, and Bosco remembers that Jinkx has mentioned brewing potions or having séances with Joe before. “Her apartment isn’t far. I’ll write the information down for you.”

Paper in hand, Bosco shoots out several thank yous and runs off again. Camden’s apartment is nearby, which is good, because Bosco is not in shape or good at running. Why on Earth should anyone run unless they need to? Though running practice would have been helpful for this mess. Bosco just listens to their shoes pound over the sidewalk, hoping it isn’t too late to help Camden.

Camden’s confused, but she buzzes them into the apartment, and Bosco skips the elevator and sprints up three flights of stairs, because they’re already soaked in sweat and gasping for air.

Bosco knocks on the door, then bends over and sucks in air until Camden opens the door. She looks ready for bed, in sweatpants and a soft pink sweatshirt. The bags under her eyes look more pronounced, and it makes Bosco’s pounding heart ache. She has to look up to meet Bosco’s eyes, and they try not to think of how she’s just the perfect height for a forehead kiss.

“Bosco? What are you doing—”

“Don’t drink the potion I gave you!”

“Why? Are you trying to poison me?”

“No, it was an accident, but if you drink it, something really bad might happen. Please, you can’t drink it.”

Camden’s face shifts. “You’re serious,” she says, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows, and Bosco realizes that they’ve never been this serious with her; usually it’s a lot of joking and small talk. They’ve never even shown this much emotion around her. They try not to, afraid that any hint of deep emotion would reveal their true feelings to her. Feelings that are rising to the surface like lava preparing to erupt from a volcano.

Bosco nods, trying to collect their words. “I made a mistake and gave you the wrong one. It’s a love potion. A really strong one. It’ll make you fall madly and obsessively in love with the first person you see.”

It’s quiet, the confession just hanging in the air. Camden finally looks up at them, biting her lip. “If it weren’t for the obsession part, that might not be so bad.”

Bosco’s brain lags as they try to process it. “What do you…“ Camden looks at them again, more pointed. Bosco’s head spins. “You don’t…you like me?”

Camden nods, her cheeks flushed red. “I’ve liked you for a while, if I’m being honest. I’ve been wondering if I should tell, but then I kept thinking that would ruin everything.”

“Wait a minute.” Bosco thinks of the bags under Camden’s eyes, the tired set of her shoulders when she comes in the store lately, much more than normal.  “Is that why you haven’t been sleeping?”

Camden nods sheepishly.

“Camden! Why would you lose sleep over me? I’m not…I’m not worth that, I’m just…” Bosco trails off with a helpless shrug. They’ve never thought Camden saw them as anything other than the funny person she traded banter with at the magic shop. Surely Bosco, with their purposely-messy hair and dark jokes, wouldn’t be someone Camden, with all her perfection and grace, would crush on.

But Camden takes their hand, and shakes her head firmly. “You are worth that, Bosco. Do you not know how amazing you are? You make me laugh every day, and you’re so beautiful, and smart, and you’re so kind to everyone. You’re not ‘just’ anything.”

Camden squeezes their hand as she talks, and it’s the only sign to Bosco that they’re really still here, because Camden’s words are running through their mind too fast. Camden really saw them in that way. Camden really liked them in that way. The feelings finally erupt, and Bosco floods with warmth, wondering why they denied telling Camden for so long.

“I, uh…”

“I’m sorry,” Camden says quickly. “I shouldn’t have told you all that, you probably don’t feel the same—”

“I do!” Bosco grips Camden’s hand, taking in her wide eyes. “I do like you that way. I just didn’t want to tell you. Didn’t want to actually admit my feelings and let them out and get hurt.” It seems so ridiculous now, but Bosco’s had unrequited crushes before, and the memory of that constant heartache never really goes away.

“I understand.”

“But, um, would you ever want to go on a date? We could get dinner or something.” Bosco’s hesitation flies away, because it’s okay. Camden likes her back.

“I would love that! Can we do it later though?” Camden asks hesitantly. “I really do need a nap.”

“Hey, I’m the one who ran a damn marathon to get here!”

“I live barely ten minutes from the shop,” Camden says, unimpressed.

“Ten minutes that I fully sprinted, thank you.” Bosco makes a show of grabbing their shirt collar and showing Camden the sweat there. “You’re lucky I didn’t pass out in the hall. I’m sure your landlord would love that.”

Camden grins. “Come in. We can take a nap together.”

Bosco squeezes her hand and follows her inside.