#i have to go be an adult today )): and then maybe i finish my fic for ecrin’s xmas event !! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rayassecretlife · 1 year

Note

Im LITERALLY so down bad for dilf Jake Sully like omfg. Could you write a fic where maybe he is like your dads best friend yk like a forbidden romance with an age gap? (Ofc the reader is still over 18 duh)

🫶🏼

Forbidden secrets

Pairing: Dilf!Jake sully x 23 year old!Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

PART 2

Summary: You have a little to much fun celebrating your birthday, and the man you often caught yourself fantasizing about was the one to take you home.

Warning(s): Mature language, use of alcohol, Corruption kink, DOM!Jake, Praise kink, 15 year!age gap, unprotected p in v, degradation, dilf jake being a warning himself 🫠, cr*ampie, consensual!non!consent, f!ngering, marking, mentions of blood, semi public??? This smut is LONG

Saturday nights were usually days where Jake would relax at home and take a break from anything outside, but for today, he had to make an exception just for you.

Jake sully was your father’s best friend and right hand man when it came to anything business related. You grew up knowing Jake as one of the people you looked up to, but sometimes you couldn’t help but think about why that was.

As you got older, you’d catch yourself staring at the older man way more then usual. You’d notice when his braids were fresh and new, or when he cut his hair and lost the smallest amount of weight. Your mind had memorized every scar from previous battles that scattered his blue skin, and you knew how many freckles he had on his face. You never realized how good looking he had been till you grew up.

As for Jake, ever since you’d turned 21, he had his eyes glued to you and the way you were. Just like you, he’d find himself staring at your hips when you’d sit down and how they outlined your perfect hourglass body, or the way your hair touched the small of your back. He’d often take you hunting with him and that only made it worse, seeing the way your body moved when you pulled back a bow or even just stretched.

It was safe to say the two of you had the most forbidden feeling toward one another, and it made both of you feel so terrible.

Tonight was your 23rd birthday and of course you decided to share it with friends and family in an open area within the forest. Most of the clan had went but there were also people you knew who couldn’t go, having to tend to duties or watch their children since your party was definitely an adult only type of event. Your father was one of them, out running scout trips with a few other men while you celebrated without him.

It bothered you at first but you couldn’t think of anything else other then the drinks you had downed over the course of the night. You’d danced with many guys, sung with your friends, and even made a toast to which your very drunk words barely let you finish. It was safe to say you were the most drunk you’d ever been.

And Jake saw that.

“Having fun, Kid?” He asks, approaching you. Your conversation was cut short by the deep voice behind you, your laughing coming to an end as you turn to the familiar face with a smile.

“Jake! Your here!” You threw your arms around his large torso making him let out a small grunt, holding up your drunken body that so easily gave into his touch. “Thought you’d never show” Your friends are watching you with a smirk on their faces, eyes on the man above you that they so obviously thought was attractive as well. After all, he was Toruk Makto.

Jake frowns, excusing the two of you from your friend group before bringing you away from the crowd, gently pulling you off of him. “Your trashed, aren’t ya, peach?” You giggle and shake your head, taking another sip of the cup that was in your hand.

“N-no! This—this is water!” You argue, holding it up to show him. He only sighs at you, reaching to take it but you quickly pulled it back, shaking your head. “I promise, Jake! What’s the difference? It’s my birthday, you know?”

“I do know, and your shitfaced, Y/N. It’s time to get you home” He reaches for your drink again, this time being able to grab hold on it but not without your retaliation. “Peach, I’m really not trying to-“ Just then, the alcohol spilled all over you. Both of your hands drop the glass once you let out a gasp and look down to watch it run down your body. Your clothing was now drenched, dripping with liquid all the way down your legs.

“Are you happy! Now my clothes are wet and I don’t even have a drink” Jake doesn’t miss how you sniffle, kneeling down to see if the glass was broken which is so clearly was. He sighs and walks over to your helpless body, lifting you up gently so you wouldn’t stumble into it. “I was just having fun!”

“I know, Peach. I know” He thumbs away the preexisting tears that slipped down your cheeks before kneeling down, lifting you into his arms. “I’m gonna take you home, alright? Get you cleaned up, your gonna feel so much better” His voice is soothing against your ear and you can’t help but nod, closing your eyes to rid you of the spinning feeling inside your head.

Your relaxed as the man carries you through the forest, staring up at his features that you noticed never drastically changed since he was younger. His skin was glowing in the moonlight above you, and his yellow eyes were big trying to find your cave in the dark. You giggle at his frustrated expression, reaching up to touch his face.

“You look pretty, Sorry for screaming at you” Your apology makes him chuckle and his eyes are suddenly back on you, watching as a smile crept up to your lips. “I want a bath… a bath sounds amazing right now”

“Good thing that’s exactly where I’m taking you, huh?” You hum in agreement as he enters your cave, turning on the lantern that lit up your entire bedroom. He sat you on your hammock before excusing himself to grab some water and maybe some fruit for you to eat, trying to at least sober you up a tiny bit before you fell asleep.

You on the other hand, worked to remove your wet clothing that stuck to your skin. You had on celebration clothes so they were much more uncomfortable and skin showing, but the top wouldn’t come off and you were getting frustrated. Your mind begins to roam with anxiety as you fiddle with the strings, afraid of what Jake might say when he comes back to your half naked body.

But another part of your brain is telling you to keep it there. To keep the wet top on your body so it continued to show the curve of your breasts and nipples, and to allow your bottom half to show on full display for the older man to see. The ideas intrigued you; having Jake sully look at you like that… to look at you with hungry eyes like you’d always imagine when you were alone.

Oh Eywa, how badly you wanted him to touch you.

It was so forbidden but it felt so right, like you needed him to see you the way you saw him.

“Okay, here’s some…” Just as you had planned, you watched as his voice trails off and his eyes glue to your body, taking in every freckle and every line that scattered your skin. You were practically naked for fucks sake, how could he not look? He hated himself. He hated that he saw you the way he did but the truth was that he couldn’t see you any other way. He saw the way you’d look at him every so often and you saw the way he’d look at you, there was no reason to hide it anymore.

“I need some help with my top, Jake” Your voice is soft and slightly demanding as you stand to your feet, watching as Jake clears his throat, setting down the fruit and water he had grabbed for you. “It’s stuck… and sticky”

“Your uh… you don’t have anything on, Y/N-“

“Yes I do. I have this on” you tug at the top on your chest, watching him take a deep breath. Were you getting to him? You definitely were. His eyes are anywhere but near you now which made a smirk tug at your lips, approaching the man. “What is it, Jake? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a woman without clothes before?”

He fought with himself as he tried to hold back, biting his bottom lip as his eyes scanned your hips, taking a liking to the curve of your body. You were a tease, who knew? It was wrong of him to look at you like this… but why couldn’t he stop? Why couldn’t he turn away.

A single hum vibrates through your throat as you let your hand reach for his arm, fingertips ghosting over his skin. Yes, you were intoxicated but you knew exactly what you were doing. If anything, you were glad you had the liquid courage to do this because if you were sober, you would’ve never tried.

But believe it or not, you deeply wanted to do this.

“Y/N” Your name comes hoarse out of his mouth, almost in a warning tone. You were playing with fire, didn’t you know this? Jake was so much bigger then you, and his gaze burned holes through your skin whenever he looked at you. “Your drunk, peach” He breathes but you only giggle, eyes taking in his every ab and detail on his chest; his very strong, large chest. You look up to the man with that same smirk still on your face, letting your fingers move from his arm to his chest.

“And so, so horny” His cock twitches at your words, your eyes were burning against his own, and your face was almost undeniable in that moment. Your sweet doe eyes were big and pleading but your body was confident, touching his like it was going to take what it wanted. “Come on, Jake. You want to help me, don’t you?” Stop looking at her, Jake! Just put her to bed and leave! Jake’s thoughts were roaming so wildly through his head, the only thing that was holding him back was the fact you were so clearly drunk, and he feared taking advantage of you.

“I can’t help you, not if your drunk” He finally refuses but your not taking that answer, only touching more sensitive areas on his body to gain his upmost attention.

“I appreciate you for saying that, but you and I both know I’ve been wanting this. You, have been wanting this too” Your voice is soft but full of intent as you press your hand to his chest, feeling the chisels of his abs between your fingers. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when we hunt, and how you watch my hips sway when I walk” He looks down at you as you watch your hands against him, letting them guide themselves up his perfectly toned body. “Tell me, Jake. Have you ever touched yourself to the thought of me?”

His breath is hitched as you let your hands travel up his back, moving closer to the man with ease. You had him right where you wanted him. “I… I don’t think-“

“Don’t lie to me, Jake” Your eyes meet at your words and he can no longer act like it’s not true, taking a deep breath before nodding his head gently to you. “I touched myself to you this morning, you know why? Eywa, you just looked so good with your hair wet, and the way the water fell down your body… makes me so hot”

Your hand eventually make it to the back of his neck, shaking under his dreads with ease. You were as close as you could be, eyes looking up at him with that pleading look. “Always think about how good you’d treat me, how good you’d fuck me” You could feel his heart beating faster and faster against you, and you watched as his eyes slowly forgot their loving state that he was so obviously trying to fight. “Why are you still holding back? You want me to get on my knees and beg you to fuck me?” Now you were just being a brat. Your voice was clearly in a teased tone and your body language was trying to get the best of his, you could see his jaw clenching at every word you uttered.

You lean up to the older man’s ear, brushing your lips against its lobe. Your breath was hot against his ear and you could feel his hands start to move from his sides, hesitant to touch your waist. “You better make me beg, Mr. Sully” That was it. That was his breaking point.

From the moment you whispered in his ear, to when his hands roughly grabbed at your waist, you couldn’t remember much until he was pushing you against the wall of your cave, keeping a slight amount of distance between the two of you as he took in your messy-hair state. You were laughing, biting your nail like this was funny to you. Jake didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you.

“Your playing a dangerous game, Kid” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the cave’s walls, closing you between him and the stone. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“At least one of us is playing dangerous” The two of you stood there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until Jake finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he lifts you into the air, wrapping your legs around his waist as soon as you moaned against him. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

Once again, your back is crashed against the wall as he completely devours your lips into his, fingers digging into your skin as did yours to his dreads, slight pulling them back when you needed to breath. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe Eywa, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless above him, gripping his dreads between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big, he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“Older girls wait” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his fangs were brushing your skin, hungry for it like some starved vampire. He wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to.

“Nothing’s stopping you from getting an older girl” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “And nothings stopping you from marking me, Mr sully” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed green eyes.

“Can’t have an older girl when I have a brat I need to take care of, now can I?” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. You were a brat, but you were his brat. “That’s how you like it, huh? Like being bad?” Your ears are perking at his every word and your eyes light up with a laugh to your lips, smile so big you couldn’t relax it. “Jesus, your so dirty, aren’t you?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “I guess you’ll have to find that out” His eyes. Oh Eywa, his eyes were so hungry as he set you down on your feet, giving you a devilish look before kneeling in front of you. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the stone, not even realizing the man under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on the man under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “S-sneaky little shit” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this man knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t fall. Jake was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“That’s all? Maybe your the one holding back” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “J-Jake, let me sit down fir-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been sitting, but your legs couldn’t function correctly when he was destroying them under you.

His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Jake, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? You were being such a brat, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your fathers best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this older man. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

In only seconds, your coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak under you as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Jake’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Jake!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t stand much longer. You had to lay down. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs straight, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

“Down” Was all he said to get you to do just that, falling to your knees in front of him. You shouldn’t have teased him, huh? You really, shouldn’t have. “This your first time, peach?” He asks, obviously teasingly as he strokes your hair, making your eyes roll.

Your small hands work to untie his loincloth, letting it fall to the floor under you. Great mother, your suspicions were more then right. He was big, so fucking big you were unsure if it’d even fit inside you. Your body was small compared to his, and something like this was almost double the size of the first guy you’d been with.

“Nervous?” That’s it. You don’t even listen to Jake as you take his large length in your hand, leaning over it to let a line of spin drip onto the skin. Jake watches closely as your tiny hand spreads the spit around his cock, stroking the base of it. His hand falls to the side of your head as you let your tongue push against his tip, swirling around its mushroom head. You weren’t even doing much but Jake couldn’t help but go completely feral for you, praising your every move with heavy breaths.

You open your mouth to him, closing it around his cock once you went as far as your could. You look up at him with those sweet doe eyes, driving him absolutely insane. He was already harder then he had to be, now it was you teasing him for it. Your mouth is warm around him and he can only imagine what it feels like to be inside you, that thought alone made him feral. Your already stroking him faster and sucking him harder, tired of waiting for him to be inside of you. You could taste the sweet pre that leaked from his tip, humming around his painfully hard cock that sent vibrations through his body.

“Want to fuck your face… Gonna let daddy do that?” You bat your eyelashes at the man above you, removing your hand from his shaft along with your mouth, sitting back on your knees. He chuckles, pushing his thumb against your lip to open your small mouth, grabbing hold of his cock to press onto your soft tongue. “Such a dirty girl. A shame your dad doesn’t know your not at that party right now”

Your mouth is already filled before you could respond, and you could feel every ounce of him push into your throat as he strokes into it, holding your head to guide it along his shaft. Your nails dig into his thighs and make him groan, throwing his head back at the unbelievable sensation you gave him. You were so good for him, it made him wish you had been older so it wasn’t so wrong of him to mate you… but you both knew it was.

“Fuck, just like that. Taking me so well—wish you would’ve came to me sooner, Kid” you moan against his cock, the lines of spit from your mouth were now dripping between the two of you, making a mess of the ground. “All that shit that comes out your mouth about how your so innocent, about how your such a good little princess? Where’s your mouth now? Huh, girl?” He wanted to stay there forever but he knew he couldn’t. He was close enough, he needed to fuck you now.

He pulls you off of him, allowing you to gasp with your chest heavy, following his instructions to move to the fur mat you had in your room. You didn’t even have a minute to adjust yourself before he’s already towering over you, pushing you onto your back and pulling you by your ankles closer to his body.

“Jake” You call to him breathlessly, propping yourself up on your elbows. He looks to you with his ears perked, watching as a smirk pulls at the corner of your lips. “Use me” Your words are like a command almost, and his face is already meeting yours, kissing your lips roughly as he hovered over you. If it was rough you wanted, it was rough you’d get.

His cock is pressed against your entrance almost instantly, your slick coating it’s head with ease as he runs it along your slit. You were ready, you wanted him for far too long and you couldn’t wait any longer. Your eyes give him a reassuring look before you press your forehead against his, feeling him slowly push his tip into you.

His fingertips are caressing your cheek, soothing you as your eyes squeeze shut. You wanted this and you weren’t a virgin, but this was nothing like before. “You okay, Sweet thing?” He asks softly and you nod, fingers intertwined in his dreads. Jake stares longingly at you, watching your every move as your face contorts at the slight pain, pushing more into you slowly.

“Jake” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “S’big… so fucking big” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the fur underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Now your just stroking my ego, pretty girl” He jokes, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “Jesus, your so perfect. Wish I could breed this pussy… this pretty little cunt of yours”

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Jake! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of your cave but you don’t care, only worried about the man above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks your endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Jake for more. “It’s so good… fuck! Your so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. What would your dad say if he saw you? If he knew how badly you wanted me to fuck you? Such a dirty girl, Y/N” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big yellows were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Jake, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole forest knows who’s fucking you this good” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Jake…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it! Good fuckin’ girl!” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “Squirting all over me, can’t believe anyone actually believes your innocent”

“Jake it’s—it’s too much!” You push on him but he obviously doesn’t budge, only rolling his eyes at your attempt.

“You begged me to fuck you like this and now your giving up? A shame, thought you were stronger then that” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn bright blue, scratching along his striped skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? Is that what you said?” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Jake—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, Jake” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your light blue skin. Once again, you could feel his fangs threaten to break through you but he held himself back, placing sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Kid. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, fuck me back!” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Mark me, Jake. Please… please mark me!” You beg making his ears perk, his chuckle against your ear making your skin shiver with goosebumps.

“You know I can’t do that, Kid. M’sorry” He snaps his hips against you and you mewl loudly, crying out his name. “Just let me fuck you nice and good, yeah? Give you a birthday to remember” You huff, reaching back against him to grab his face.

You look over at him, your loving eyes practically begging him. “The back of my neck, Jake. N-nobody will see it! Nobody will know—fuck! Nobody will know it was you” you try to bargain and you can tell he was debating it, glancing down at the area on your neck. “Please, do it for me?” Fuck. That got him good. He cursed himself before pushing your hair away from behind your neck, leaning down to run his tongue along it.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble one day” He sighs and you can feel his fangs press against your skin making your eyes roll back, feeling your third orgasm of the night slowly approaching. You let out a shaky breath against your hand as the slight sting took over your body, like you had been getting a tattoo for the first time. His fangs pierced your neck, coating themselves in your sweet blood.

“Yes! Jake I’m… I’m gonna come again!” You whine, not daring to move your head as he soon released your skin, cleaning the blood with his soft tongue. He was close, so fucking close and he knew this was as far as he could go. He needed you to come now.

He grabbed your hands and pinned them against your back, pushing your head to the mat as he sat up against you, slamming into you harder than before now. You’re a moaning mess under him and you know your done for, begging him for more and yelling to him how close you were getting. He couldn’t handle it.

“Come for me, baby. Need to paint that pretty face of yours” Jake moans above you and it makes you frown, pushing your hips harder against him as you clench around his cock, making it almost impossible to move. “Don’t be a brat, kid. You know I can’t!” He already knows what you’ll ask but the answer was no. He couldn’t, he definitely couldn’t.

“I’m not in my heat, Jake. Please!” You beg, knowing it was practically impossible for you to get pregnant if you weren’t in heat. Jake kept repeating his answer with every stroke but as he continued, it didn’t seem to matter. You wouldn’t let him go. “Please, Jake. Want it inside! I want all of you!”

“You’re so fucking drunk, Y/N. You don’t want that” He curses, holding himself back from releasing just off how tight you were clenching around him. You roll your eyes, you knew exactly what you were saying.

“Stop being an asshole and just fucking do it!” He groans loudly, pushing your head against the mat harshly as he picked up his pace, tightening his grip around your wrists. You had officially pissed him off. You were screaming under him, he wasn’t just kissing your cervix anymore but he was full on ramming into you, like a wild animal during its rut.

“Fucking brat, you never know when to shut up, huh? Come for me now, Y/N” You cry, unable to hold it any longer. His grunts are louder now and you could feel his cock pulsing inside you, just waiting for you to release. You let out the loudest moan you could as you tip over your edge, fingers balling into a fist as you cry loudly from your orgasm. “That’s it! Milk my cock, kid. Just like that!”

“Please give it to me, Jake! I’ve been so good for you, haven’t I? Just give it to me!” You beg the man and with only a few more strokes, he pushes himself as deep as he could go inside you, releasing himself deep inside your dripping wet cunt. “Yes! Oh my god—yes!” Your eyes roll back as you move your hips against him, helping him ride out his high inside you.

The hot spurts of his come paint your gummy walls, and he almost collapses onto you, holding himself up just inches from your body with his heavy, hot breath against your skin. The two of you are sweaty messes against each other and you don’t even know what to say, only laying there lifeless as he slowly slipped out of you. You could hear him moving around your room but you didn’t care. You couldn’t even move, you felt so weak.

He clicks his tongue as he kneels down to you, scooping your body in his arms gently to not hurt you so much. He can see the bruises along your body now and instantly feels bad. He hurt you, his innocent little girl that he was sworn to protect. “You alright, Y/N?” He asks worried, laying you down on your hammock and retrieving a blanket to cover you.

You open your eyes to the man standing above you, his loincloth and gear back on his body making you frown. “You’re leaving?” You question sadly and he sighs, looking over at the entrance to your cave.

“Your father will be home soon, Kid. I can’t stay” Jake admits, sad as well that he can’t be with you. You wanted to argue but you knew he was right, giving him a small smile with your arms out for him. He kneels down so his face is level with your own, pressing a passionate kiss against your lips. He hated the fact he had to leave you after doing that with you, he felt like an asshole.

But he couldn’t stay and get caught by your father. He didn’t want you to get in trouble, especially on your birthday.

You both pull away with a smile and Jake looks down beside him, holding up the bin he put there and the medicine he laid out on your small table that acted as a nightstand. “Put some medicine here for when you wake up and the trash is here if you need to throw up, okay? Your father should be home soon so you won’t be alone for long” His finger strokes your cheek and you nod softly, eyes threatening to flutter shut.

“Could you stay until i fall asleep?” Jake looks at you with a softening face, sighing before nodding his head. You were already well on your way, there was no point in saying no. “I’m gonna have the worst hangover, huh?” He chuckles, nodding his head as he lays behind you, pressing his stomach against your back.

“I’ll be here in the morning, don’t worry” Your forehead creases at his words but he quickly shushes you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Gotta help your father with something here, but don’t worry about that now, just close your eyes” He reaches to stroke your hair softly, listening to your purring noises next to him.

You smile, closing your eyes at the sudden touch. You felt safe, so at home with him. You prayed this wasn’t just a dream. “I love you, Jake” The words slip from your mouth and you’re not even worried about them, feeling yourself slipping away already. He chuckles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“I love you so much more, kid”

PURRRRR DOUBLE UPLOAD!!! Sorry if there are mistakes, my keyboard is glitching cause of how long this was 🫠. I’m sweating this was one of my best works 🥲

Tag list: @neytirishottie @luz15sstuff @rinizitos @erenswife5 @myh3artt @jakescumdump @viajaeger @lu-the-ghost-reader @angelsamor @mashiromochi @luvagirlsworld @doggyteam2028

#avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar x you #avatar james cameron #jake sully x you #jake sully smut #jake sully x omaticaya!reader #jake sully #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully imagine #atwow jake

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woofwoofwolf · 11 months

Text

Dimple piercings

Hobie x Reader

Notes: Drabble, fluff, a suggestive comment from Hobie, piercing talk, writer doesn’t have piercings so feel free to fact check me, reader remains GN, Hobie and reader are adults, no use of (y/n), no phonetic spelling of Hobie’s accent, brit written by an European so sue me

I thought I remembered Hobie having dimples in some SCs I saw, but now looking at them I’m not really sure? Let me know what you think. If they’re not dimples, then treat this as a weird headcanon or AU LOL

Pls dont repost anywhere thx ✨️

“You could get a lip piercing,“ Hobie suggested.

“Hm, dunno if I’d like the way it’d interact with yours,“

Hobie arched an eyebrow, “you mean like-“

“I just meant kissing, you weirdo-“ you whispered, as if someone was listening in on your private conversation going on on top of Hobie’s bed. He gave a low chuckle that you felt the tremors of as you cuddled up to him.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Or- you could get it mirrored to mine, on the other side?“ He traced your lip to show you where he meant. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, with that big grin of his.

“No lip piercings.”

Hobie hummed. “How about dimple piercings?”

“but I don’t got dimples, it would look weird, no..?” you tenderly place your hands on his jaw, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You have them though. It’s cute.“

He gave you a warm, but teasing smile. “Ah, but I wouldn’t dare get those piercings, lest I cover them up from your enjoyment, ey?”

You gave him a light slap on the cheek, which earned you a hearty laugh.

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

Believe it or not, this is like the first fic I've finished since I was like 14 years old or something. I have a tendency to not finish any of my fics because I just keep thinking up agonising slow burners, lol. I think I might even finish up another fic I started while commuting home today?? Crazy right? I just whipped this up in the meantime because I thought of it when I came home, and I didn't want to lose it.

ANYWAYS. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. Like I said, it's been so long since I've finished something, I haven't even posted what I've been writing for years now. Maybe some encouragement can fix whatevers wrong with me writers wise lmao

#hobie brown #spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spiderpunk #spiderpunk x reader #scenario #hcs #headcanons #hc #drabble #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n

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uhmprobablynot · 1 year

Note

I know I’m late asf,, but part 2 of the bully fic was so good😫😫

I need part 3 rn!!💥💳💥💳💥

(But fr, your writing was so so good and I’ve read it like 5 times now lmfao)

As you wish my friends,,, Bully!Schlatt Part three (sorry this was late. I was sick than had to finish finals,,,) neway

Part One > Part Two > Part Three

The next day, you expected a text from Schlatt. He had texted you good morning on Sunday, then following the library situation he texted you, then after practice he texted you, when he went to bed he texted you. You thought he would have texted you good morning today, too. You brushed it off. He’s only had your number for 48 hours, and it’s not like you were dating or anything. Plus, you were headed to the class you shared with him. Maybe that’s why he didn’t text. He knew he would see you.

Yeah. That’s what you went with.

Schlatt wasn’t at the table when you walked in. Usually, he sits there waiting for you. Shrugging it off, you sit down at the table, pulling out all of your things and checking your phone to see if he sent anything, even though you knew it hadn’t buzzed yet. You sigh and as you look up; you see Schlatt walk past your table, going to sit somewhere in the back. You watch him settle down as you feel your heart settle down into your stomach. He doesn’t look at you, he just focuses on the smart board in the front of the room. You smoother the pain before also focusing on the board and blinking away the tears filling your eyes. The lesson goes on forever. You swear you can feel him staring at the back of your head, but you’re too afraid to let yourself hope. The moment the professor calls class, you are out of your seat and rushing home. When the front door closes behind you, you let yourself cry.

Classes for the rest of the day can wait.

You say the same thing on Tuesday, on Wednesday you justify not going so you don’t have to see him again. Every time your phone buzzes, your heart breaks a little more because it’s still not Schlatt.

There is a knock on your front door and your heart jumps with hope. You wipe your eyes and take a deep breath before opening the door. On the other side is Ash.

“Zach told me Schlatt has been weird at practice so he sent me here to see-” She looks up at you from digging in her purse. “What’s wrong?” Her simple question sets you off again. You feel your eyes fill up once again and she asks if she can come in. You nod, turning to sit back on the couch. She puts her bag down and sits next to you. “Y/n, what happened?”

“It shouldn’t matter,” you sob. “We weren’t even dating.” Ash makes a sad sound of understanding.

“It’s hurting you like this. It fucking matters.” She says firmly. She grabs tissues from her purse and hands you the pack. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I- I don’t,” you stutter. “I don’t know if I can. Some stuff happened.” Ash flashes you a look of pure anger and you quickly correct. “Some very consensual stuff happened.” She sighs with relief.

“I am an adult. I’ve probably read worse, done worse.” She nudges your shoulder and you laugh lightly.

You explain to her everything that happened. The drive from the game, dinner, the drive home, how he kissed you in front of your door, the library (she made an amusing squeal as you told her the story before she whispered ‘we’re supposed to be mad at him shush’ to herself). How he pretended you didn’t exist this morning.

“What a dick. What the fuck.” Ash was angry, and you envied the fact that she could be. You wanted to be angry with him, but all you felt was hurt and embarrassment. She is silent for a moment, clearly pondering something. “I’ve decided you’re coming with me on tomorrow.” You look at her, confused. She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Sport guy parties are always on Thursday and the baseball team is going to be there.” You shake your head, disagreeing with her, and she only smiles wide and nods. “You are going to look hot, and show that fucker what he missed out on.”

“Ash, I can barely think of him without sobbing, let alone going to a party and trying to pretend I’m doing better than I am.”

“You will, because you are.” She stood up. “Here is my number just in case you need. I’ll be here at 9P.” She leans down and kisses your forehead. “You are beautiful, you are kind, you are better.” She picks up her bag and walks to the door. She blows you a kiss and walks out. You smile genuinely for the first time in a few days.

Thursday night comes faster than you expected it to. You feel great and, according to Ash’s reaction when she saw you, you look great too.

She leads you to the kitchen, where she pours you a drink. The music is pounding against your skull and the already small enough house is crowded with too many people. Ash taps your shoulder and leans to your ear.

“Zach just texted me he is here. Are you good if I go find him fast?” You smile and nod, telling her it’s fine even though you’re dreading being alone here. She kisses your check and leaves to find her boyfriend. Not knowing if Schlatt is here or going to be is driving you crazy. You think you see him every time a tall brunette moves in the corner of your eye. Your fingers itch to text him, your heart agreeing, saying that it’s the perfect opportunity to try, but you ignore them both and move through the crowd. You hope that in your aimless crowd managing you find the bathroom, or just a quiet enough space to take a breath.

You spot a hallway with little people and make your way that way. As you turn the corner, your heart sinks. A white blonde girl has Schlatt pushed against a wall with her lips kissing at his neck. Schlatt is mumbling something to her with one hand on her shoulder and another at her waist. You stand there and stare without meaning to. The girl spots you first, saying something you can’t make out between the heartbeat rushing in your ears, the music pounding into your skull, and battling to not let yourself throw up. You push your way back through the crowd, this time not caring to be polite, just wanting to get out.

You eventually find the front door and push out, letting the cooler outside air soothe you. You send a text to Ash letting her know you left and not to wait for you. Holding your arms against your stomach, you walk a direction you think is towards your house. Someone is calling after you, but the noise gets lost chaos of your head.

“Y/n!” the voice yells as a car pulls up beside you, rolling slowly to keep up with your pace. “Please get in the car.” It’s Schlatt. You glance at him, watching as he shifts his focus from you to the road, then back to you. You shake your head and keep walking, looking straight in front of you. He calls your name again. “Where are you even going?”

“Home.”

“Well, your place is in the opposite direction.” You stop walking and take a deep breath. Then turn on your toe and start walking the aforementioned direction. “Jesus Christ.” You hear him yell. His car makes a U-turn on the street. “Come on,” he says harshly. “Get in the damn car.”

“No.” You yell, quickening your pace. Maybe if he acted like he cared half of this much earlier this week, none of this would have happened, maybe. You walk past the house party again with Schlatt still trailing you and calling your name. He is getting more and more frustrated the more you ignore him, but every time you look at him, you only see that blonde girl.

“Fuck!” you hear him yell as you walk into the nearby quad; you knew it was slightly dangerous to cut through here but you just needed to get away from him, and it was well lit enough. A car door slams and you hear his calling of your name continue. “Please, just listen to me for one goddamn minute?” He continues to yell.

“No,” You turn to face him. “No, I won’t you know why?” Schlatt is silent as you yell at him. “You ignored me all week. Which, yeah, would hurt either way but after-” Your voice cracked as the sadness you pushed down finally came rushing back to the surface. “After what we did, you ignored me.” Schlatt flinches and tries to say something, but you hold up a finger. “Then when I finally get myself together enough to go out into the public,” You point somewhere in the general direction of the party house. “One of the first things I see is a girl all over you, and now I feel crazy because we weren’t together, so it shouldn’t bother me.” You sob and Schlatt is just staring at you, but you keep going, glad to finally say this. “I feel crazy. I feel cheap. I feel used.” Your voice is hoarse and your throat is sore from the yelling. And Schlatt is just staring at you. The quad is silent, even the crickets and cicadas listening.

“I’m sorry.” Schlatt’s voice cracks as tears flood to his eyes. “I didn’t mean-” He rubs his face and runs his hands through his hair. “I never meant to make you feel that way, any of those ways.” He takes a step towards you and you take a step back. “And Nic- And she I didn’t want that,” he rubs his neck as if trying to wipe her away. “She has been after me months and I’ve been telling her I was interested in someone else.” His eyes lock with yours. “I am interested in someone else, and that was me trying to get her off.”

“Then why?” You plead. “Why ignore me like that?” Schlatt presses his lips together and runs his hands through his hair again.

“Because I thought that if I ignored it, it would go away. That if I acted like it didn’t matter, then it wouldn’t.” You scoff and turn to walk away again, but Schlatt quickly adds, “I thought that if I pretended I wasn’t falling in love with you, I could convince myself that was the truth.”

You stop walking and let his words sink into your brain. You looked back towards him.

“Please don’t say anything.” Schlatt closes his eyes and inhales. “Just please let me take you back home.” You nod. He reaches for your hand and you grab it. He leads you back to his car and opens the door for you when you get there. You climb in and take a deep breath. The smell of him completely envelops you. Tears come to your eyes as you let yourself realize how much you missed him. As he enters the car, he sees the tears.

“Oh sweetheart,” Schlatt grabs your cheeks and wipes the tears away with his thumbs. “I’m so sorry.” You silently nod and he drives to your place.

When you get to your apartment, he walks you to your door. It is a bittersweet reminder of that very first night. You insert the key to your door and push it open. Schlatt puts his hand on your shoulder and calls your name.

“I really am sorry.” His eyes have tears in them again. You grab his hand and pull him lightly through your door. Schlatt resists for a minute before letting you bring him inside.

“Sit,” You point to the couch. “I missed you or whatever.” He smiles lightly, rubs his eyes, and sits down. “Can I get you a drink?” Schlatt nods and clears his throat.

“Water, please?”

“Coming right up, make yourself comfy.” You make your way to the kitchen and grab a glass of water for him. You take a deep breath before moving back near the couch and handing him the glass before sitting next to him. Schlatt takes a sip and hums thankfully.

“I know it’s my fault,” he puts the glass down on the table in front of him. “But I really, really missed you this week.” His arm drapes against the back of the couch resting behind your head. You let a breath that mimics a sarcastic laugh. You pinch his side and he yelps before rubbing it with the hand not behind you.

“There now we’re even.” You say through giggles. Schlatt laughs and smiles widely; you feel your heart thump against your ribs. He meets your eyes once he calms down.

“One more time, I am sor-”

Your lips against his cuts him off. He kisses back almost instantly, the hand on the back of the couch moving to rest on the back of your head. You pull away slightly.

“No more of that. I said we were even.” Schlatt smirks at your comment before pulling you back into a kiss. You both lose yourselves in the kiss, completely enveloped in each other. You bite his lip lightly and he groans as he does you move down to his neck. Kissing and nipping it, making sure that in the morning if that girl came near, Schlatt would know who he wanted there, who got to be there. Schlatt pulled you over into his lap, but as you brought your leg to straddle him, you knocked the glass of water on to the floor.

Both Schlatt and you stare at it for a moment before bursting into laughter. You lean your head on Schlatt’s shoulder before standing up.

“I’ll clean this up.” He stands up from the couch. “Where are the towels?” You point to the linen closet as you pick the glass up and put it into the sink. Schlatt had moved back to the puddle in the meantime, laying the towel down and trying to mop up the water.

“Schlatt,” You call to him. He hums in response, still focused on cleaning up. You call his name again and he looks up at you. “The floor can wait.” You reach out your hand and he grabs it. Schlatt looks at you, confused, before you walk backwards to your bedroom. You watch as a smile comes to his face as he understands where you’re leading him.

As you both cross the door into your bedroom, he kisses you again. Except this time it’s harder and messier, his teeth biting at your lip and his hands in a bruising grasp at your hips. His thumbs dip under the hem of your shirt, grazing the skin there.

“May I?” He asks, pulling at the shirt. You whisper a ‘yes’ and he pulls the shirt over your head and throws it towards some corner of your room. His hands explore the new skin as his lips explore down to the skin of your neck. You moan lightly as his lips and hands meet near your collar bone. He thumbs at the front edge of your bra.

“This too?” he asks and you nod. He kisses your lips again as his hands move behind to your and he unlocks it and lets it drop. “Holy fucking christ,” He mumbles something before his hands move to grab them.

Schlatt walks the both of backwards until you hit the edge of the bed. You sit and he kneels down in front of you and his hands drag up to meet the waistband of your bottoms. He asks for permission again and you grant it before he pulls everything down, leaving you bare in front of him.

He uses his big hands to grab your knees and pull them apart and cursing under his breath as he looks at you. His lips replace his hands as slowly he kisses up your left thigh all the way to your hip before moving back down and repeating it on the other side. You quickly get impatient as he keeps getting close to your apex but never touching it.

“Schlatt please,” you plead and he looks up at you from between your thighs.

“Yes ma’am,” He smirks before diving nose first into you. He licks from your slit before moving his tongue to your clit. He moves slowly but speeds up as he hears you moan. As his tongue laps at you, one of his fingers enters you slowly. He thrusts it in and out a few times before adding a second one. With his finger messaging your walls and his tongue on your clit, you cum fast and hard. Schlatt works you through it, letting you come down before he removes his fingers and face leaves you.

“I have been dreaming of that since the library.” He licks his fingers before using the inside of his elbow to wipe the rest of you off his mouth. His face is red and his eyes are dark and glistening. You grab his cheeks and pull him up to you, kissing him. His lips taste slightly bitter as your slick still sticks to his mouth. As you kiss him, you reach your hands under his shirt, pushing it up. Understanding the silent command, he breaks from the kiss to pull it off, adding it to the pile of discarded clothing. You drag your hands down his chest, admiring him before your hands dip down to palm him through his pants. Schlatt groans at the euphoric relief of pressure. You undo his belt and pants button, pushing down his pants and underwear as far as you could, then letting him pull the rest of his pants off. You move your hands down to his cock, beginning to jerk him off, but he stops you.

“No, no, this is me making up for everything.” He says, “move up and lay back. Let me take care of you.” You smile gently and push yourself up on the bed. Schlatt moves on top of you, using one of his arms to hold his weight and the other to rub circles on your hip. “You’re so beautiful,” he kisses you quickly. “You know that, right? You know I think you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?” You turned your head away from him, embarrassed, but he used the hand on your hip to turn your face back to him. “Look at me, I’m serious.” You only can nod at the sudden sternness in his voice. “I’ll repeat it well past the point that you believe it, too.” He kisses you as he moves his cock towards your entrance. “You sure?”

“Yes. Schlatt, please, fuck.”

“That is the anticipated point, yes.” He smirks before pushing into you slowly. You moan and wince at the intrusion. He stops as he fully enters you, letting you adjust.

“Move, fuck, please move.” You beg. He groans and thrusts in and out of you. You moan as his thumb rubs circles against your clit. As he brings you closer to your edge, your walls vise around him, causing his pace to falter.

“Baby,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re gripping me so tight I can’t-”

“Then don’t.” You moan, causing Schlatt to pull out of you and cum all over your stomach. His thumb, however, quickly gets back to work on your clit, making you cum again. You both just lay there panting for a moment, catching your breaths. He stands up and pulls his underwear on before leaving the room quickly to grab and wet a towel. When he reenters the room, he wipes you down and cleans his cum off of your stomach. Once you’re cleaned up, Schlatt grabs his shirt off the floor and pulls it over your head and climbs into bed next yo you.

He lifts an arm up, inviting you to come lay on his chest, and you happily do. Schlatt kisses the top of your head as comfortable, homely, and tired silence fills your bedroom. You play with his fingers as your brain shuts down for the night.

“You know,” you say, he sleepily hums into your hair. “I think i’m falling in love with you too.”

#jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #schlatt smut #jschlatt smut #that's all folks - i have spoken

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httpsuniverse · 1 year

Text

ILLICIT AFFAIRS | gr63, mm19

an ig au preview of the fic i’m currently writing >.<

PAIRING: george russell x fem!wolff!reader ; mason mount x fem!wolff!reader

DETAILS & WARNINGS: angst, accusations of cheating (i’ll add more once i release the main fic!)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this will be my very first fic (but i’m still working on it, i made this post as a little preview hehe) and i hope once i finish it you guys will like it >.< i can’t say when it’ll be posted cuz i’m only halfway through the story! anyway... here ya go!

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. © newuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

ynwolff

liked by masonmount, cmpulisic, kaihavertz29 and others

ynwolff life lately with masey ♡

view all 1,727 comments

masonmount MY hottie ;)

ynwolff no U are MY hottie 😘

declanrice you two disgust me

masonmount stfu

user1 damn toto raised a baddie 🥵

user2 she’s sooo damn pretty 🥹 i miss her in the paddock tho!

user3 she used to visit the paddock? 🥲 i’m waaay too late to know that i like her sm :(

user2 yes! she’s pretty close with lewis cuz she was often with toto during race weekends before she went to uni in ‘19!

masonmount

liked by ynwolff, f1, redbullracing, declanrice and others

masonmount got to see some fast cars this race weekend 🏁🏎️

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ynwolff dads gonna be disappointed masey 🫤👎🏻

masonmount he wont, he loves me too much

ynwolff im calling dad to ask him that

user1 mason mount, dating y/n wolff (mercedes’ princess), joined redbull for the weekend 😭😭😭

ynwolff ikr 🙄 i’m questioning my love for him

masonmount BABY YOU DONT MEAN THAT

masonmount NOOOOO

masonmount SILVER ARROWS FOR LIFE

dramaformula

liked by fan1, fan2, fan3 and others

dramaformula [SUBMITTED ANONYMOUSLY] toto wolff’s daughter, y/n wolff spotted today with george russell! anon said that the two are close and a little touchy with each other 🤨 what’s happening between these two? are george and carmen still together? mason’s been real quiet on his socials, did he and y/n break up? 👀🍵

user1 maybe they’re just hanging out 😭 ffs can’t a guy and girl hang out with each other as friends without y’all making any baseless rumours about them?

user2 they can hangout ofc but with the presence of their s/o’s in the place they’re hanging out...

user3 are you suggesting that they’re cheating on their partners? 😟 user2

user2 uh,, yeah?

user4 oh god grow up !! we don’t know these people, they’re adults, they know what they’re doing let them live their lives 🙄

user2 EXACTLY. we don’t know these people yet y’all keep on defending them

user5 NOOO not y/n 😓

user6 GET BEHIND ME BABY ynwolff

user7 jesus , people rly can’t respect one’s privacy these days... all this for clout...?

masonmount

liked by ynwolff, susie_wolff, cmpulisic, declanrice and others

masonmount i love you so much pretty girl

comments on this post have been limited.

ynwolff i love you baby 💗

susie_wolff stay in love, you two!! 🤍

georgerussell63

liked by f1, mercedesamgf1, carmenmmundt, alex_albon and others

georgerussell63 i couldn’t ask for more

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carmenmmundt ❤️

—

#george russell x reader #mason mount x reader #george russel imagine #mason mount imagine #f1 x reader #football x reader #f1 instagram au #football instagram au #f1 imagine #football imagine

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flwoie · 10 months

Text

BE CAREFUL WITH MY HEART — 손영재 (TEASER)

A STORY WHERE OPPOSITES CAN ATTACT — THEY JUST NEED TO LEARN HOW TO LOVE

⋆˚✿˖ SUMMARY By the time someone turns 19, their emotions can be controlled by their soulmate, and they can control their soulmate’s. Sometimes it can land in good or bad hands. So what happens if one of the biggest players you know has your heart?

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ STARRING eric x f! reader

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ GENRE soulmate au (a real one this time unlike st), fluff, comedy, angst 😼, strangers? to lovers (idk, they know each other through friends)

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ CW profanity, reader works at a pizzeria and hates pineapple pizza, homie hopping eric, more will be added in the actual fic

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ RATING 15+

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ TEASER WORD COUNT 0.9k [934] | EST. WC <10k (i’m hoping it’s not too much 😭🙏)

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ SONA SPEAKING giggles im finally writing a tbz fic. i thought of this idea when i was suffering on the toilet while i was listening to the song n i thought it was such a cute idea :(. i’m posting the teaser so i could forget about it and never write. jk i’ll try to finish this but i can’t make any promises

THIS WORK IS PURE FICTION—ALL THE IDOLS MENTIONED IN THIS DO NOT REFLECT WITH THEIR ACTUAL LIFE AND CAREER.

ONE — THE LAST TIME I’LL SEE YOU

8:36. You woke up earlier than your alarm. Or maybe you set your alarm at the wrong time and slept in. Either way, you have a lot of time before your shift starts. Your phone lights up and shows a text from a friend.

✉️ sangyeon : happy birthday y/n :) ! 🎉

You checked the date on your phone. Right, it’s your nineteenth birthday today. Nineteen isn’t a special number; it just shows you have six more years before you’re an actual adult. That’s what you thought when you were younger. It is a special number. It was a number you feared because you knew someone was able to control your emotions. You expected to wake up dead, but you woke up the same way you woke up yesterday.

You looked through messages from friends and relatives wishing you a happy birthday. It would be a happy day if it weren’t filled with the smell of flour, tomatoes, and cheese. You groaned as you got up and went to your closet to look for your uniform. Your crimson t-shirt has now turned garnet red. You wonder if it’s your uniform or a shirt you bought weeks ago. You placed the shirt on your bed, knowing it’s probably not your uniform—it’s a red shirt; no one is going to notice.

You sat in front of your desk to do your makeup. As you look through your makeup bag for concealer, you notice that you don’t have a single beauty blender. You might as well treat yourself and get one today. You closed your makeup bag and put the shirt on. You lay down on your bed, waiting for the right time to call an Uber to get you to the pizzeria.

9:54. “Thank you!” You thanked the driver after paying them. You cursed yourself for calling an Uber during traffic and wished you had called them right away. The hostess greeted you when you rushed into the pizzeria.

“Wow, you’re only six minutes away before Jangjun scolds you for being late,” Karina deadpans. You eyed the kitchen to see if he was making sure your coworkers were properly making a pizza, but he was nowhere to be seen. “If you’re wondering where he is, he ran to Costco to find a gift for his girlfriend.” Not surprised. Jangjun tends to go places during work, even when there’s an angry mob of starving people.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” she said, handing you your apron, a notepad, and a pen. You put on the apron, placed the notepad and pen in your pockets, and headed to the counter to clock in.

It’s been hours since you’ve taken people’s orders, served them, and given them the bill. You would talk to Karina back and forth, the topic being mainly your soulmate. You only have a few minutes until you clock out; all you have to do is serve this couple a large Hawaiian pizza. You glared at the couple who ordered it—seriously, who the hell puts pineapple on pizza? You made your way to their table with the pizza in your hand. As you were walking, a running figure bumped into you, causing you to fall and drop the pizza. The man catches the pizza but leaves you on the floor.

“Don’t they teach their servers how to not fall?” the man asks, placing the pizza on the table.

“Don’t track stars learn how to watch where they’re going?!” you retorted as you got up. He scratches the back of his head and apologises. He quickly pulls out his wallet and takes out a twenty dollar bill. He reaches for your hand and places the bill in your hand, closing it afterwards.

“Take a twenty; you’re welcome!” he yells after he runs toward the exit. You should be mad at the guy and chase him down for catching the pizza instead of you. Instead, you’re calm and happy that he left, hoping that he’ll never come back. Maybe your soulmate didn’t want a sulky Y/N coming home from work. You grabbed the pizza and went to the couple to place it on their table.

After clocking out, you sat down on an empty table near the podium where Karina was standing. You complained to her about the guy who bumped into you and saved a pizza’s life rather than yours.

“Eric,” she mentioned. You hummed in confusion. “His name is Eric; he’s one of Kevin’s friends. He used to date Eun, Yumi, or literally anyone we knew; they’ve had a history of being together.”

Yikes. You ran into a guy who could’ve made you his girlfriend and would leave you in seconds. You took out the twenty dollar bill he gave you earlier from your pocket and placed it on the table in front of her. “He gave this to me before he ran off,” you muttered.

“It’s a trap!” Karina uttered, taking the money and stuffing it in her pocket. “He’s trying to win you over with a stupid piece of paper, a very worthy piece of paper,” she said, mumbling the last part.

A worthy piece of paper from such a worthless man. Though it was quite interesting to see him sacrifice a few bucks for a piece of dough he never got to eat. And those few bucks getting stolen from your own best friend—you might as well ask him for another when he bumps into you. After all, what’s the harm in falling into a trap?

Curse your soulmate for making you think positively of the guy instead of anything mean.

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queer-in-a-cornfield · 29 days

Text

Some of us on the discord were discussing what Dewey would be like as an adult yesterday, prompting this little fic (1325 words) based on my hc that Dewey would become a stage actor

Dewey walks down the busy streets of New York, humming some vocal warmups. While he appears as calm and collected as he ever does, his mind is racing a mile a minute.

Today was his Broadway debut, and he was equal parts excited and nervous. He’d done many a show in the past but those were different. This was BROADWAY, the gold standard of theatre. Sure, this wasn’t a principal role or anything, he was just replacing a departing ensemble member, but still! A Broadway debut is a Broadway debut. It’s a big day, and he’s freaking out a little.

He rounds the corner of the theatre and opens the stage door, making a pit stop to check in for the day and readjust his bag. He nearly drops his coffee but manages to set it down to adjust his grip before continuing on to his dressing room.

He swings the door open and finds that Rico and Alex, the castmates who share the room with him had already arrived.

“Hey, guys!” Dewey says as he walks over to his designated area. He pauses suddenly before he can put his things down. “What’s all this?”

Surrounding his mirror were a pair of blue balloons, some confetti, and a handwritten banner on top that read “Congrats on your debut!”

Rico speaks up, “It’s your first show tonight, Dewey! If that isn’t cause for celebration I don’t know what is.” Alex nods in agreement.

“Aw, thanks guys,” Dewey smiles, clearing away some of the confetti to put down his bag.

“So how’re you feeling? Ready to show the world what you’re made of?” Alex asks.

“Yeah, I’m really excited, I’ve been dreaming about this for years,” he says, pulling out his notes to review once he finishes warming up.

He spends the next few minutes stretching, uncharacteristically quiet, before sighing and asking, “Guys, you’ve both done this for a while, so… how did you get over the nerves? It still feels insane that I’m even here, and I’m really worried that something’ll go wrong and ruin my chances of continuing here.”

Rico sighs, “I’m not gonna lie, that fear just takes time to get over. But trust me, you’re gonna do great tonight, and soon enough you won’t be so anxious anymore.”

The trio sit in silence for a moment before Alex pipes up, “Didn’t you mention that one of your brothers had a history with anxiety? Maybe he’ll have some advice for you.”

Dewey nods, then grabs his phone from his pocket, pulls up Huey’s contact, and starts a video call.

“Hey Dewey, what’s up?” Huey’s voice picks up through the phone speakers.

“Hi, Hubert. Did you guys just land or something?” Dewey asks, noticing Huey’s surroundings.

“Yeah, we just landed, oh… fifteen minutes ago? We just got to baggage claim- sorry, one sec,” he says, turning to talk to someone off-screen.

Suddenly Uncle Scrooge appears on screen. “Dewey, lad! Can- can ya see me- how does this thing- curse me kilts, what did Ah just-“ Scrooge says as he confusedly fiddles with the phone.

“Uncle Scrooge, I’ll hold the phone for you,” Huey interjects as he grabs his phone back and centers them both on screen.

“So why’d you want to talk to me, Dew?” Huey asks.

Dewey pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts before explaining. But he pauses a moment too long because more faces suddenly attempt to crowd into the view of Huey’s phone camera, all trying to greet him at once. Dewey snickers a little watching Uncle Donald, the last one to get back from claiming their baggage, trying to squeeze into view with little success.

“Hey guys,” Dewey says. “I love you all, but if I could maybe just talk to Huey for a second? I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Reluctantly the rest of the group backs out of frame, leaving once again only Huey.

Sighing amusedly, Huey asks, “Okay, so what did you want me for, Dew?”

“Okay, so, like, I was wondering, basically, like-,” Dewey pauses for a second. “How do you handle your anxiety? Cause I’m kinda freaking out a little right now.”

Huey thinks for a moment. “Well, different things work for different people, but whenever my nerves are getting to me I usually like to take some deep breaths, or you could do the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise, ummm… yeah, I’d say those are my go-to's. I’d also say that drinking coffee wouldn’t help with nerves at all but I don’t think you’d listen to that one, so…”

Dewey laughs, “Thanks, Huey.”

“Of course, Dew. And also remember, we’re all gonna be there cheering for yo-,” Huey gets cut off by a nearby thud, which he turns to look at.

“Uncle Donald’s suitcase just broke,” Huey explains, walking over to help. “You’re gonna do great tonight and we can’t wait to see you after the show! Break a leg!” Huey signs off.

“Bye Huey, see you guys later,” Dewey replies, ending the call.

“Man, it’s still so weird to me that the richest duck in the world is your uncle,” Alex says.

“I don’t know if that’s more surprising or the fact that he doesn’t have a private plane to get here on,” Rico adds.

“Well, we do have a plane but the pilot can’t make it out here until next week. Aaaaand I’m realizing how much of a spoiled rich kid I sound like right now,” Dewey starts laughing again.

“Nah, if you want a really spoiled rich kid that would be more of a… what’s his name? That creep who got all his money from his grandmeemawmaw or whatever?” Alex retorts.

“Doofus Drake?” Rico supplies.

“Yes, him!”

“Oh, you guys don’t even know the half of it,” Dewey exclaims, getting back into his stretching.

——————————————————————-

Dewey opens up the stage door to exit the building. It was dark out now. He was one of the earlier cast members out of the doors, so there was a pretty good-sized crowd greeting him. As he worms his way through them, some congratulate him for making his Broadway debut, and one woman even asks for a picture, which catches him slightly off guard.

Eventually, he makes his way past the main crowd where he is finally greeted by his family, who all promptly give him a bear hug.

“Dewey!!! That was amazing!” Webby exclaims once they all pull away.

“I knew you’d do great,” Huey concurs, grinning.

“Theatre has never been my thing, so believe me when I say that that absolutely blew me away,” Louie adds.

“I’m so proud of ye, lad,” Scrooge says. “Ye’ve done well for yerself.”

Uncle Donald, at a loss for words, smiles and gives him another bear hug.

Della then pries Donald off of him to give him her own hug.

“You boys never cease to make me proud,” she says as she lets him go.

“Aw, you guys,” Dewey says, laughing a little. “You’re gonna get me emotional.”

“We’ve all been emotional since you came on stage, it’s your turn now,” Huey jokes.

Dewey laughs, “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Not to interrupt a nice family moment, but would you guys like a picture?” Rico says suddenly from behind Dewey, startling him.

“Oh my god, Rico! You can’t scare me like that!”

Dewey recollects himself and turns back to face his family.

“Guys, this is Rico, one of my castmates. Fam, Rico, Rico, fam. And yeah, I think we’d like a picture.”

An obscene amount of pictures later, everyone has their phones back with significantly less storage space than before.

“Thanks, Rico!” Dewey calls out as his castmate departs.

“See you tomorrow,” he yells back.

“Well,” Della says. “I think it’s time for some celebration! What time were those reservations for, Uncle Scrooge?”

“… In ten minutes.”

“Oh. Well, let’s get going then!” She exclaims, prompting the group to hurry off to this restaurant, dragging a confused but happy Dewey along with them.

#this does not have a name yet but the Google doc is called Broa-Dew-ay #because puns #wrote 80% of this on five hours of sleep and the other 20% on 4 hours #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #dewey duck #ducktales fanfiction #also bonus fun fact I named Dewey’s castmates after two of my friends from choir

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gamerbearmira · 26 days

Note

heya again <3

so...i got some more giftless grandkids thoughts here, written in bullet points because my brain just kept going AHAHHAHA

I’m currently listening to the vocal mashup of the grandkids of waiting on a miracle while im going through the giftless grandkids tag as im taking a break from other aus, it’s very fun and sets the mood somehow AHHAHHA

I’m really glad they have each other and are thriving even without their gifts, and they likely already got used to not having gifts and wouldn’t care, and that’s so real of them

The mashup is making me think of some things tho, ngl AHHAHAH

But anyway, yes, I currently have many thoughts

Was thinking about the reasons for why Casita would crack and fall, considering the kids are close with each other here and the adults (minus Alma oof) are all there supporting them, Bruno included since he never went to the walls

And as I read some of your posts and think about it more, it makes sense

There are several main things that would make Casita crack here—aka the family themselves cracking—would be:

Ofc, there’s still Alma’s pressure on the triplets and her confusion and unintentional hurt towards the grandkids

Most likely how Julieta is hiding the big secret on why they didn’t get their gifts and also their doorknobs

Another is how Pepa and Bruno are also hiding the vision tablet from everyone but specifically Julieta

Still trying to think of other reasons, but those are the main ones, I think

In canon, Bruno had been patching up the cracks, which definitely helped Casita stay up longer, but he never went to the walls here, so how would Casita and the family last until a little after Antonio’s ceremony (assuming we’re still going with something similar to canon timeline)?

Here is where the kids’ good relationships come in, their love and care are helping hold things together, even without Bruno repairing the cracks

The process of Casita cracking would be slower here compared to canon

So what happens when the kids—the main reasons for Casita still being able stand—are faced with the revelation that they could have gotten their gifts back then? Could have possibly avoided a lot of heartache and ridicule and disappointment from the people around them? And the reason they didn’t are because of the adults? Because of Julieta?

They hyperfocus on the bad parts, overshadowing the good parts because its an intense and shocking moment and revelation for them, I think

In the moment of the revelation, that’s likely going to upset them, maybe even break them a little, because why? Why did they—?

Of course, they’ll later have the full realization that they grew up happier without the gifts, but again, that’s later

Also, pretty sure they focus more on the fact that it seemed like the adults they trusted lied and deceived them in a sense, almost like a betrayal (except ofc its not)

This, too, would connect to how Julieta says in that one giftless grandkids art of yours, “I didn’t want to hurt them—to hurt anyone.”

And then, with the love faltering for a moment, that’s how Casita falls apart

Also, why am I imagining the kids finding the vision tablet that Pepa and Bruno are likely hiding, making them realize what Julieta is hiding, which then starts the realizations, arguments, and full-on cracking of Casita?

This would then parallel canon with Bruno’s vision too

This means we get to see all the kids trying to figure things out together too

After everything, I can really see Julieta and the rest of the adults gifting the kids their doorknobs again as a surprise—which they will later use to get their gifts too AHAHHAHA YEAHHH

Anywho, ye, just some thoughts I have hehe <33

Literally listened to that bop today so real 😭😭

ANYWAY. Y'all might not now, but Mic here as been helping me in world building for this au 🤭🤭 its gonna be one of the next fics I do, since Mamabel and Werewolf are finished (will be updating today after I finish Mama Isa. And if my wifi will let me <\\\3)

ANYWAY THESE IDEAS?? ARE SO RAD...Triplets being in the spotlight because the grandkids have no gifts, its so sad. But honestly, Alma is just pushing them because she needs to prove that the miracle is ok. Implying that the kids did something. Subtle, but whatever.

Also, the kids are like Mirabel in canon, constantly trying to prove themselves and helping out around town. Meanwhile there's a certain group of villagera who don't even like them. Not all the villagers, but definitely a good chunk. There may or may not be a rather crude mural somewhere in town out of the way. But there :(

But anyway. The kids do have hobbies relating to their gifts! The husbands, feeling guilty, gave the kids presents, gifts to give them something to do since Alma couldn't "assign" them anything (which they were grateful for).

Isabela got some gardening gloves and tools, and is really into gardening and farming, and is always tending to her garden or helping out with the farmers in town. She also tends to all the plants in Casita. Dolores loves to play music, and after Félix gave her first guitar, she was hooked. She has tons of instruments, and actually taught Mirabel to play the accordion; she helps with entertainment, like Camilo. Agustín got Luisa some dumb bells, she actually asked for them. She wanted to strong and still help out, and regulating exercises and mostly helps out with packing and loading or at the quarry.

Camilo was give some costumes and puppies, and he's been into performances and theater since. He also performs for the kids, and plays alongside Dolores often. Mirabel was given new sewing stuff. Instead of Alma teaching her most of what she knew, Agustín helped her, since he knew some, and she kept the fashion and crafts hobby up. She helps repair things around town, and does the occasional clothing repair. Antonio still is finding his hobby, but the grandkids know he really loves animals. They actually suggested Félix get him a pet. So what does he get him? A parrot. Antonio loves that parrot like no other, and he's always around him, trailing behind Luisa.

DESIGNS 🌚🙏🙏 I'll post the family tree later, and maybe draw the triplets because their designs changed but me and Mic are still working in them. But the kids❗❗ Their clothes are very plain and dull, because the seamstress refused to make their clothes any fun. Even Mirabel can only embroider so much, and she rarely has time to do so cause she's so busy helping. But there's some subtle designs <33

Julieta really did and does mean well in this au, but drastic actions really do cause drastic results in some cases. Her pull those doorknobs was definitely drastic. While the kids are happier and aren't nearly as pressured, they feel inadequate, and like something is missing :(( And then there's vision tablet (that's like over 40 years old 💀), but that's a whole other can of worms.

ANYWAY. AO3 HOPEFULLY LATER MY WIFI IS :((( Also I'll be posting the finished storyboards for the WOOM animatic I'm working on, and then I'll also post the rough video put together with it. SHOUTOUT TO @thefourchimes FOR HELPING ME WITH THIS SHE'S SO COOL <333 should tote check out her aus, they're so cool. ψ(｀∇´)ψ

#my asks #my asks are open #encanto #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel #encanto antonio #encanto isabela #encanto dolores #encanto Camilo #encanto Luisa #encanto alma #encanto Julieta #encanto bruno #encanto Pepa #giftless grandkids #giftless grandkids au

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orangelemonsstuff · 1 year

Note

Oh my gosh. I just finished Child!MC & Child!Malleus fic- and- AAAAAAA OMG ITS SO CUTE! UGH MY HEART- THE ENDING?? YOU CANT JUST DO THAT?? MY HEART??? PLEASE. PLEASSSSEEE WRITE A PART TWO WHERE MALMAL AND MC MEET AGAIN- OR SOMETHING BECAUSE IM IN LOVE WITH THIS AU AAAAA

-🌙 anon? is that available?

HEllo :D hehe Im glad you liked the fic :> this was actually inspired on a chapter of Aharen San where she met raidou as a kid and played together yet she has to move out the day Raidou wanted to play with her the next day :(( but since im basing my fic to tht manga chapter ofc they'll meet again and yes emoji anons are all available here!! so heres ya part two!!

Where We Used To Play

Malleus & Reader

Childhood Friends Au

(sequence to this!!)

Tags: Fluff, Implied Childhood Stranger Friend, Can be Platonic or Romantic

Summary: your life kinda sucks at the moment and it felt too overwhelming for you to handle so you decided to take a break outside, maybe a walk or a breather till you come across a familiar playground filled with you nostalgic childhood memories and friends, you reminiscence through a memory you barely remember.

•••

You groan

You arch your back and raise your arms up in the air as your feet walk on the concrete road, today was tiring, yesterday was tiring as well, but finally you get to catch a break for a hour.

walking around is calming you enough, the afternoon air really releases all the stress clumped up in you, walking around is more than enough of a break for you

Walking

and More Walking later

You ought to get tired of course so you try to find a bench you could sit on to rest your legs and even maybe meditate since it's been a while since you've done that

upon turning arriving at a centered road, lies ahead a playground nearby a elementary school. the school you used to go to

you prefer getting hit by a sudden euphoria upon seeing the nostalgic playground than getting hit by the feeling of drowsiness, your face curls up to a smile as you stride into its jagged pebbled ground

oh, your elementary days... how've you missed being a child. no problems, no worries, everyday is just fun! but everyone's gotta grow up right? that's what's all of this nostalgia is for, for the adult version of you to remember

you turn your head around to observe the playground, few kids are playing whether it's on the sandbox where you used to buried your profound toys, the seesaw where you used to fly as much as you can while returning the favor to your friend by coming down, or the swing that had you fast up the air to point of seeing the top branches of trees as the rusty metal chain creak with every swing of the seat.

there are lots of other playthings here as well you don't remember seeing before, such as monkey bars, a small climbing wall enough for small kids to climb up to, and oh that curved ladder wasn't there before

how have you missed playing around this place, you are quite jealous since you can't be the children you are as before, it is fun to see younger kids having fun on their own

but as much as there are a lot of playground equipments there are only a few kids playing and trotting around and most of them are in pairs in spaces they are occupying, kinda surprising that they are ignoring the swings, kids from before used to fight each other just to get a turn in it

it is after school for them most had probably went home with their childhood friends or parents like you used to before. and it's not that noisy for you to be bothered either

the children were too occupied playing with themselves they didn't even notice you striding to the swings and sitting down, perhaps you had grown a lot or they just lowered the swings for safety measures but your butt and feet are not that far from each other it feels like you are squatting but this swing is taller to you when you were young till now, it also might have sat on by too many kids that it was forced down low by their weight

though children don't usually weight that much to push down a metal swing right? you remember playing with a older kid before and he is the only kid you struggle to push the swing for because of his inch tall stature

huh? older kid?

you remember your friends are mostly at what grade you are, you don't remember making a friend a few grade more--

oh.

your eyes followed two kids making castles at the sandbox and that's what hit it back like the euphoria from earlier

what was his name again? Mal...Mallyu...Malleus?

yeah, that kid. yeah you remember him. he was that weird mysterious boy who watched you play alone that one afternoon before not even bothering on asking to join you till you asked-- well told him to and just lets you pull him around on different apparatuses of the playground to play with you

Urgh... now that you think about it, he didn't come back the next day after that he probably got weirded out by you and decided he does not want to play with you anymore

your dragon toy and the other thing was still with him too

not only he hated you that time, he also stole your toys because he hated tou. how immature of the side the child you shown, well you were a kid back then of course you'd be immature but still...!!

at least he could've come back to make up with you... you two had so much fun that day you really though he'll come back the next, you brought another pair of shovel and castle bucket too so the dragon could also have a tower

you lean back and lets your head wonder what could've been the actual reason he didn't come back that day, hated you? just wanted your toys? got yelled at and told to never play with you again? or maybe he just forgot about it, maybe you could forgive the forgot reason because you as a child too didn't really thought about it that much either and continue on living without remembering him, not until now at least

you might've leaned back a little too far because your head had hit a soft clothed pole? pretty muscly too... realization slapped the back of your head as you stopped leaning in and turn your head behind you. shit. it's a person.

"uhh sorry didn't see you there"

"..."

your eyes shift back to the playground and turn your head back at the stranger, your eyes focused back to the kids playing on the sandbox again, they were dirty and dusty now but they sure are having fun

feeling you had ignored his presence, the stranger took an initiative to sit on the other swing, and swing back and forth a bit with his foot

"you got a kid here?" you ask as you let your eyes wander the playground to the kids sliding down the curvy slides, to the three children talking at the curved ladder while one of them sits on top

"....no."

"oh i see"

"how about you? are one of them yours?" your eyes scrunched up at his statement do you look that old to be a parent?

"no way, I'm actually a student here" you forgot to mention the "was a student here before" but you're pretty sure he gets it

"you look pretty old to be in a playground let alone be a student." talk for himself what is he doing here too otherwise?

"heh am i?" you chuckle, closing your eyes and letting your ears just feel the noise of the laughter and chatter of the kids around you, maybe even the stranger's reply

"....yes" you burst out a giggle, and started swinging yourself a bit faster than him, that's kind of funny but the stranger seemed genuine with his answer

"Well excuse me sir, some people had just to hold back a grade, some are not born with lots of smart you know" you stated, jokingly of course

"oh." wait, that sounds like he took it seriously is he...? actually being serious right now?

your giggle turned into a laughter and some of the kids around and the stranger too turned to you confused with how you are acting

"that was a joke haha..." you wipe out the laughter tears in your eyes and calming down after a few seconds

"but you know, it might've been better if it's like that, i could be a child and play here forever don't you think?" another thought held you back "maybe even wait for him here forever"

"him?"

"i know you're just a stranger and stuff but i got this friend i made here at this same playground, we had lots of fun and he promised he'd come back tomorrow but the next day, he just didn't" the stranger stayed silent listening to you, you look down and remember the hopeful look at that kid's face, you were sure he'd come back even if he didn't promise to because at least he'd give back your toys

"ah yeah, he took two of my figurine toys too"

"oh really?" The stranger seemed a bit curious now, is he amused by your story? the child you wouldn't take that too kindly

"yeah, he took my favorite dragon figure i got from a penny store and another thing i can't seem to remembe-"

"it was a dice" he interrupted, you look at him with a perplexed expression

"the father of the prince was actually the dragon and the evil dice took over the sand castle" your eyes widened at his words, no way. no fucking way. that just can't be

"oh my goodness is that really you?" the stranger as you call him before knowing, grinned at your baffled face

"I can't seem to push myself alone at this seat, would you kindly do it for me? I'm pretty sure you know yourself how these as you don't need my help to push yourself"

"...Malleus was it? how long has it been?" your puzzled tone turned to a gleeful one as you inch your side to him by force to get closer

"im glad you remembered my name, i thought i would've had to explain who i am again in case you would only remember a few details of that day" you shook your head, of course you remember him you were just thinking about him earlier

"i wouldn't forget you, you were the only kid whom i let off that took my things" you joke elbowing him slightly

"maybe your memory is a bit more jagged. you gave these to me don't you remember?"

"no, I don't remember giving them to you, from what i know is that you promised that you'll come back that's why i let you borrow it"

"really?" you laugh kicking the rocks off the worned out ground as he shuffles his hand through his pocket and you were pretty sure he was about to pull those out so you stopped him

"I wasn't serious Malleus, i was just kidding of course i gave it to you, you are the dragon aren't you?" Malleus smiled and pulled out his hand to clasp it against yours

"although, i have no idea where the prince is now, probably got lost in a ditch somewhere" Malleus frowned in disappointment as you break your hand free from him, guilt washed over you, of course it'll get lost it was lots of years ago, you don't even remember where'd the body parts of those toy figurines you own go most of the time.

you pat his back with sympathy, letting your eyes wander again, you remember the seesaw, this swing and that slide you never get to go to,

"hey, come to think of it you didn't get to go down the slides, when you left i did it alone, it was pretty fun."

"slides? oh that thing over there, Lilia arrived too earlier for us to have use it, i was actually disappointed when we parted our ways that time." you remember who Lilia is, he's that man with the the girly face that took Malleus that time, you wonder how he is now...

but other than that, there's no other people than you, Malleus and few other kids who wouldn't seem to mind if two people used the playground facilities as they are supposed to be used for

"we can if you don't mind."

"huh?"

you pull his hand and went over to the slides you never get to ride that time when he left too early with Lilia. to continue the fun the years he was away and you waiting for him stupidly with a castle bucket

you still hadn't asked him why he didn't return that time but oh well

at least this time you two can enjoy yourselves to the fullest.

a/n: hello :> i know this might seem pretty rushed but i hope you like it, i honestly want to leave the fic an open ending and let the reader decide for themselves for how the ending ends for them. you could still do that and just think of this fic as my own way of how it went after Malleus left :DD

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #twst scenarios #twst x reader #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus x reader #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland malleus x reader

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

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Here, Kitty, Kitty (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I wanna have Aizawa's kids. That is all. -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*************

FOUR.

When the holy Sunday makes its grand arrival, Aizawa is up early and going hard in the faculty dorms’ gym.

He usually is up past 6 AM to get started with his gym regime, starting with weights and bench presses, doing several rounds of cardio, and then ending with a cool-down session to stretch out his tired muscles. He likes coming here in the early mornings on weekends especially since no one is up yet and he has free range of the machines offered in the little gym.

It also gives him time to focus hard on his exercise and training–something other than you. He ends his gym round earlier than usual though due to some plans later today that involves a very special girl.

When he finally finishes stretching out his tired limbs from hours of squats, weight-lifting, and running on the cardio, he takes a cool towel that is offered near the door, sitting in a mini fridge along with orange slices and water bottles. Then, as he uncaps his Hydro Flask of water, he walks out of the private gym to head back to his dorms.

As he makes it upstairs, he doesn’t count on seeing Nemuri standing at his door, looking distressed and not at all her bright and bushy-tailed self. Aizawa’s stomach drops immediately, all the positivity he was feeling prior to leaving the gym gone.

“Nemuri?” he asks, immediately hurrying over to her.

She turns to him and he sees that she’s been crying–her eyes are wet and red. “Oh, Shouta!” she shouts, immediately meeting him across the hall. “Thank Goodness, you’re here! I tried calling you, but you never answered so I just came up to see you.”

“I keep my phone off when I’m in the gym,” Aizawa explains, worried about her. She looks awful–she is still in her lacey camisole and shorts along with specialty-made Mirko the Rabbit Hero slippers; her hair is limp and unkempt, the usual bounce of lively curls not in them.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asks, concerned. Was there a villain attack? Is it one of the students or their friends? Maybe something is wrong with Mic? His anxiety begins to take over his body, causing his heartbeat to accelerate.

“Have you seen Y/N anywhere since last night?” Nemuri questions, desperation in her eyes. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “No, not since Friday,” he answers after backtracking his week. “Why? Is she okay?”

“I can’t find her!” Nemuri sobs. Now Aizawa’s anxiety is through the fucking roof. You’re missing? “What do you mean you can’t find her?” he asks. “Doesn’t she live on the same floor as you?”

“Yes, but she never came home last night,” Nemuri continues, getting increasingly more upset the more she talks. “She never told me where she was going, but she always texts me any time she gets back into her dorm at night. When I called this morning, she never answered, so I went to visit her and…”

She pauses, her lip trembling. “She wasn’t here!” she wails. “Oh, what if she’s in trouble? What if she’s hurt? What if–”

“Okay, okay, relax,” Aizawa soothes her, putting a hand on her shoulder. But even he can’t soothe himself–the anxious roiling in his stomach is a testament to how worried he is of you now. He didn’t know you went out at night like that. “Is this a regular thing for her to do?” he asks.

Nemuri nods, lashes wet and bottom lip quivering. “Then if that’s the case, she probably got caught up with something or maybe her phone died.”

“I’m just so worried for her, Shouta,” Nemuri sighs, looking like she may faint. “I know the campus is relatively safe for us staff, but outside of here is a different story!”

Aizawa goes to say more to try and comfort his friend, but the beep on his phone stops him. He looks down, finding the reminder he set for his plans today: pick up Eri for lunch.

He sighs, pocketing his phone. “Look, I gotta go,” he says, squeezing Nemuri’s hand. “I’ll keep an eye out for Y/N and let you know if I see her, but if she does this normally, she’s a big girl and can take care of herself.”

Nemuri nods and thanks him with a tight hug before she walks down the hallway to the elevator, quiet sobs leaving her mouth as she does. Aizawa’s heart sinks for his friend, and at the fact that you’re possibly missing.

Though he knows you’re a big girl and doesn’t know you from a can of paint except for you being a counselor, a college graduate, and an animal hybrid, he can’t help but feel highly concerned for your safety. Especially for a pretty thing like you. The streets can be hostile, especially at night.

He does his best to push the anxiety-fueled thoughts aside as he goes about his day. Once he’s inside his dorm, he strips himself of his tracksuit pants, loose tank, and sweat-soaked boxers, revealing his sweaty muscles touched with bruises and scars that have healed over the years.

After tossing them in the laundry basket in his closet, he steps into the bathroom to take a much-needed hot shower. He groans in pleasure as the hot water hits his tired, aching muscles; a nice reward for a great workout.

Afterward, he changes into a black tee and jeans to pair with his leather jacket and kicks. As he walks out of his bedroom to head out, he passes the closed bedroom door of the very special guest he’s had the honor of calling his own for the past year. A fond, adoring smile crosses his lips, the urge to see her pushing him to move his ass.

It only takes a walk across campus to the student dorms to make it to Hitoshi’s dorm. When he knocks, the tall, lanky yet muscled junior opens the door, looking extremely tired. Aizawa puts a finger to his lips, silencing Hitoshi, before slinking into his dorm and standing in the middle of the floor.

On Hitoshi’s couch sits his little Eri, vigorously coloring in her favorite pink sweater with a purple cat face on it and striped stockings, her off-white locks pinned back with barrettes that were probably Mirio’s doing to show off her cute little horn. When she looks up with those big crimson eyes Aizawa loves so much, she gasps. “Daddy!” she shouts as if she hasn’t seen him in years when in reality, it’s only been two days.

Ever since Aizawa agreed to do night patrols again, he’s been letting Eri stay in Hitoshi’s dorm to make sure she’s supervised. Eri proclaimed Hitoshi as her “stepbrother” since she first came to UA after being rescued from Overhaul. The entire school took a liking to her, leading to most of the students proclaiming themselves as her bodyguards.

Aizawa isn’t much better. Ever since he volunteered to care for Eri as she got acclimated to her new environment and to help her with her powers, he’s grown attached to the little girl. Now, he looks at the girl as his.

His little girl. His daughter. And nobody ever harms or touches what’s his.

“Hey, you,” he coos, filled with warmth when Eri runs to him and throws her little body into his arms. He squeezes her tight, nuzzling his nose into her white hair. “How’s my favorite girl, hm?” He looks around Hitoshi’s dorm, noticing the crayons littering his couch and the open box of Fruit Loops in his kitchen.

“Drivin’ me crazy,” the lavender-haired boy sighs. “She wouldn’t stop talking about this cat cafe you’re supposedly taking her to later.”

Aizawa glances down at a very-excited Eri and pulls away to give her a stern look. “Eri,” he criticizes. “What did we talk about? No annoying Hitoshi when he’s watching you.”

Eri continues to wiggle excitedly, her smile infectious. “Sorry, Daddy,” she whines. “I’m just so excited! Koa's Purrr Palace and Cafe is my favoritest place in the world!” Aizawa practically dies from her utter cutest. “Alright, you get a pass today, but only ‘cause it’s your birthday and you’re so darn cute.” He pokes her nose, earning a giggle.

He helps Eri clean up her things and packs them away in her leapfrog backpack before they head to the door, hand in hand. “Thanks, Shinso. I’ll take it from here.” Hitoshi nods, leaning against the door frame as Aizawa passes him $50 for his services. “See you, Eri,” he calls to the girl as he shuts the door.

“Bye, ‘Toshi!” Eri yells back in her cute little voice. She then looks up at Aizawa, her hand in his. “Can we go now, Daddy? Can we go now pleeeeease?”

Aizawa could gobble her up with how cute she is. How anyone could harm such an innocent soul is beyond him. “Alright, alright,” he sighs, defeated, “but be on your best behavior.” Eri squeals in excitement as they walk together out of the dorms and into the spring sun.

Koa’s Purrr Palace is by far one of Eri’s favorite places to exist in Musutafu. Aizawa will admit that the place is cute as hell: it serves as a rescue center for stray cats in the city and a cafe that serves the best coffee and sandwiches Aizawa has ever had. He found it by accident one day and didn’t know it was a cat cafe until he walked inside and the smallest tabby he’s ever seen tried to bite his boots.

“Koshi, cut it out!” Koa, the little old lady who owns the place, had sternly told the kitten. “No biting the guests!” She had offered Aizawa a free coffee and a $15 gift card as an apology, which led him to come back with Eri on the weekends. They’ve been regulars to the point where Koa and the staff know them by name.

As soon as they step into the cafe, Aizawa is hit with the scent of roasted coffee beans and the sweet aroma of baked bread that makes his stomach growl. One employee is busy serving two middle school girls their crepes while two other employees are cleaning the area, wiping off tables and booths. Aizawa swears he’s never seen so many cats in his life–everywhere he looks, there’s one lounging on a chair or playing in their cat tower, tiny meows filling the air.

If he could adopt all of them, he would.

Eri is in her world. Her big eyes flick from side to side of the room, drinking in the sight of cats galore. “Kitties!” she shouts a little too loudly, alerting one of the employees.

“Oh, Eri and Mr. Aizawa!” she greets them happily. “You’re just in time! Koa is in the back, but she told me to let you know we got a shipment for ice cream if you want our signature purrr parfaits.”

Eri gapes happily at her at the sound of her favorite parfaits. “Yes, please!” she enthusiastically replies, making the employee laugh. “We’ll take two, thanks,” Aizawa patiently replies, taking Eri’s hand. “And tell Koa thank you. C’mon, Eri; let’s sit down so the employees can do their jobs.”

They do so, taking a seat at a table near a cat tower where they watch two kittens play with each other, Eri giggling at them. A few minutes later, a short, old woman with silver-white hair cropped to her shoulders steps out from the back. She smiles at the sight of Aizawa and Eri. “Ah, there are my favorite customers!” she happily greets them.

“Hi, Ms. K!” Eri giggles, now petting one of the kittens. She’s gentle and careful as the kitten rubs its head into her hand. Aizawa could die from the cuteness.

“Good afternoon, Shouta,” Koa says, smiling down at him. “Still no girl on your arm?”

Aizawa blushes beneath his scarves, doing his best to hide his face. “Koa, you know I’m too busy to date with this one in my hair.” He nods at Eri who is now playing with three other kittens, flinging a feathered toy around.

“That’s no excuse!” Koa playfully argues. “I happen to know many fine-looking young women who love single dads.”

Once again, Aizawa turns a bright red and adverts his eyes, making the old lady laugh. He swears that every single person he knows asks him why he isn’t in a relationship yet. It isn’t like he’s against the dating scene, but between caring for Eri, teaching his classes, working as a pro, and fiending over you, Aizawa knows he’s too busy to date.

“Well, being tied up with your little girl is all the more reason to find a nice lady to help you out,” Koa chuckles. “Or you could always just visit here. Animals make great company; especially as pets. Our adoption rates have just been shooting through the roof lately.”

Eri whips around, her white hair flying. “Pets?” she asks, wide-eyed. “You mean we can adopt the kitties here too?!”

Koa gives a bellied laugh while Aizawa shakes his head. “Eri, we’ve gone over this: no animals are allowed in the dorms. You know that Nezu is paranoid.” Eri gives him a cute little scowl, her bottom lip poking. “No pouting either,” Aizawa sternly says.

As stubborn as the girl is, Eri knows the rules. Principal Nezu is serious about dorm rules, especially having pets. Aizawa can understand since Nezu is a mouse–every animal is scary to him, but cats? That’s probably a nightmare.

“Aww, it’s okay, Eri, dear,” Koa laughs. “Nothing a good parfait and some playtime can’t cure.”

Koa winks at the little girl as one of the employees comes to their table holding two delicious-looking parfaits: vanilla ice cream and spongey cake at the bottom of the glasses topped in whipped cream, strawberries, waffle cones, and chocolate syrup that drizzles over the glass rims. Eri thanks the employee as she grabs hers, already digging in.

“Go on and have fun!” Koa urges, motioning around the cafe like it’s Eri’s playpen…which it is.

For the next fifteen minutes, Aizawa watches Eri as she runs around the cafe while Koa and the employees work, serving others drinks and tending to the cats. During, Aizawa spends time eating his parfait, scrolling through his phone, and letting one of the cats toy with his scarf. ‘So damn cute,’ he thinks, cursing Nezu for that stupid pet rule. He wouldn’t mind having a cat around his dorm to keep him company since dating is out of the question right now.

“Oh, they’re so cute!” Eri suddenly squeals. “Daddy, look at this one!”

Aizawa looks up, finding his daughter standing at the cat cages off to the side. A sign posted on the wall states that they are all available for playtime and adoptions. Eri is busy staring into the cage of a teeny black cat curled up on a plush blanket, sleeping soundly.

“Eri,” he sighs, striding over to the overexcited child, “leave the cat alone. It’s sleeping right now, so…”

But as he gets closer and closer to the cat, his words die in his throat. He doesn’t understand why or what kind of feeling he’s feeling as he stares down at it, but it renders him speechless.

“Oh, her!” Koa says from the back counter, wiping down some spilled coffee. “She came in last night. Poor baby had an injured paw when I found her, so I brought her in.” She tuts at the kitty. “She must’ve been exhausted; she’s been sleeping the whole day.”

Aizawa continues to stare wordlessly at the cat, a warm feeling tingling inside of him. It’s just a regular-looking, short-haired black cat with one of its paws wrapped in a bandage, but Aizawa can’t help but feel like there is something more to the kitty; something special. He stares at it and feels as if he’s met this specific cat before.

Realizing how he probably looks right now–like an idiot–, he quickly steers Eri away from the cage. “Let’s not bother her, baby,” he gently says. “Let’s play with the two down here. They look lively.” He points down at the cage where two long-haired kittens are wrestling with each other, tiny mews filling the air.

“Can we, Ms. Koa?!” Eri excitedly asks, bouncing on her feet. Koa is already walking over with a key to unlock the cage. “Of course, dear,” she giggles. “Just don’t wear yourself out too much before you eat the rest of your parfait.”

Aizawa swears he's never seen a kid so excited for some damn cats.

#shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #here kitty kitty #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writers #aizawa x black!reader #shouta aizawa x black!reader

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weepingfromacedartree · 10 months

Text

Surviving the AO3 Drought

Hi friends!

We're coming up on almost an entire day of AO3 being down. Since I'm sure most of you are like me and going insaneee with the blackout, I wanted to share this incredibly ROUGH draft of chap 1 of my current Polin WIP for anyone desperate for content.

A few warnings:

This fic is nowhere NEAR being done (emphasis on this being a ROUGH draft). It will most likely be a few months until I start posting the finished chapters.

This chapter (and the fic in general) deals with issues like grief and neglectful parenting, so TW for anyone who might not want to read about that.

Most of this chapter depicts Penelope and Colin as children. It was annoying to write. Might be annoying to read. I promise, they're teens/adults in all future chapters.

I do not condone children taking in stray cats and keeping them as pets. This fic is not meant to be a tutorial of any sort.

Ok if I didn't scare you off... please enjoy!!

Chapter 1: First Pet

Today: April 29th, 2023

Relationship Status: Dating (Semi-Secretly)

꙳

“Gregory just texted to ask if we’re dating. I didn’t think he had my number.”

“That little arsehole probably sent it to himself when he stole my phone.”

It’s Saturday. Penelope and Colin are sitting on the floor of his flat, a few containers of chinese food littered between them. It’s not a particularly unusual setting to find either one of them on a Saturday night. However, some things are different now.

Two weeks ago, they would not have been playing footsie. Not this shamelessly, at least.

“I assumed that Eloise’s ‘vow of secrecy’ would involve her immediately telling Benedict… And that Benedict would tell Anthony… And that Anthony would tell Kate… But I don’t know how the rumour managed to spread to Cambridge in…” She glances down to her phone again. “Six hours flat.”

“‘Rumour?’” he echos, a smirk on his face. “Surely, you’re not trying to keep this sordid love affair hidden from me as well.”

“‘Sordid?’ God, Colin. You make us sound so dirty.” She kicks his foot away, turning her attention back to the shrimp fried rice. “And I’m not trying to keep it from anyone. We both knew what would happen the second I told El.”

“Frankly, I’m surprised Greg didn’t text you sooner.”

Colin tries fixing his attention on the kung pao chicken in hand, but it unsurprisingly wanders.

“So… What are you gonna tell him?”

Penelope quirks an eyebrow, a look of uncertainty making a quick appearance on her face.

“Well… I was going to hold him in suspense a little while longer. Maybe take the ‘no comment’ approach at first. Then — I don’t know — the truth?”

“Which is?”

Colin watches as uncertainty turns to downright confusion.

“Yes?”

Internally, Penelope wonders if Colin is teasing, or if there has been a miscommunication of monumental proportions between them. The look on his face confounds her, though. Neither option seems to be the correct one.

“‘Dating’ is a bit too casual a word for us, I think.”

Penelope’s confusion fades away as a familiar tingling sensation lights up her stomach.

“It’s only been a week. What do you suggest we call —”

“We should get married.”

“What!?”

He’s teasing. He’s teasing. He’s —

“I said we should get married.”

Penelope waits for him to expand on this insane notion, but all she gets is that smug little smirk.

“Okay. Why?”

“Why does anyone get married?” Colin says matter-of-factly. “I love you. I wish to continue loving you forever and ever. Ergo, marriage.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.”

“It —”

“It was a proposal.”

“Colin.” She uses the sternest voice she can manage to muster up, which happens to be quite shrill at the moment.

“Pen.” At least he has the decency to drop that stupid smirk. He also drops his kung pao chicken, leaning forward to place a hand on her knee.

“Just, think about it for a moment. We didn’t meet a week ago, we just finally said the thing we should have told each other a decade ago — at least. I’ve been in love with you forever. ‘Dating’ you just feels like an unnecessary step to the rest of forever.”

Penelope feels at war with herself. At her core, she is sensible. Logical. Reasonable. She knows — objectively — that skipping straight from friendship to marriage is illogical and senseless.

But is it truly reasonless?

At her core, Penelope is also a romantic. A willing fool. An idealist against her better judgement. And in her heart, she holds twenty years worth of love for Colin. Would it really be so crazy —

Shaking her head ever so slightly, Penelope tentatively — regretfully — brushes his hand off her knee. At the loss of her touch, Colin’s lip juts out in a pout.

“People date for a reason. It’s an institution — it has a purpose. It’s like a test run for marriage. Different than friendship. Teaches you different things about a person — things that set you up for a successful lifetime together.”

“Friendship is not so different than dating. At least, not the way we did it.”

“Colin —”

“You’re right, Pen. Dating is like a trial period where you decide whether or not the person you love is suitable enough to spend the next lifetime beside. You —”

“Do I really sound that unromantic?” she interrupts. Something about hearing her words on his lips makes them sound so clear.

Colin laughs. “I think pragmatic is the word you’re looking for. But seriously, can you name a single thing you don’t know or feel unsure about me as a partner, after twenty years of friendship? What’s holding you back, Pen?”

Nothing. That’s the truth. There’s not a single thing about Colin that she feels unsure of. Not anymore.

But still… Even if there love has lasted decades, that sense of assuredness has only existed between them for a week. She’s spent more time wrestling on whether or not to cut bangs (and the answer always ends up being not).

Still…

“Let’s consult the experts.” His words break her from the daze Penelope hadn’t realised she fell into. In those few measly seconds, Colin’s eyes broke away from hers and has rested on the phone gripped in both of his hands.

“What are you doing?” she asks him. Her voice sounds far away.

Colin taps something on his phone, out of view from Penelope’s curious eyes. Then he clears his throat.

“Ten milestones every couple should celebrate before walking down the aisle,” he reads aloud. “Number One: Your First —”

“What are you doing?” Penelope asks again. This time, a laugh escapes her lips as she does so. Something about the seriousness on Colin’s face reminds her of the absolute absurdity of this situation. That it is a joke, even if it was intended as such.

“I know you think this is all very funny, but I’m being serious. I know you better than anyone else in the world — you know me better than I know myself! I have loved you more than half my life and spent so much time delaying the inevitable. Why waste any more of our time by ‘dating’ one another? It just seems silly.”

Colin stops ranting briefly, as if to allow Penelope to get her rebuttal in before he has the chance to make his point. When she stays silent, she can’t help but notice a hint of a smile crawl back up his otherwise serious face.

“And while I know the romantic in you is buzzing to say yes and run down to city hall right now, I know the realist in you needs some convincing.” He briefly holds up his phone to display the article he pulled up. “So we will go through this list, which details everything you need to accomplish during the dating stage of a relationship. If, at the end, we realise that we checked off every single to-do item while we were still just friends, we will make the reasonable decision to get married.”

If there’s one thing Charming Colin Bridgerton can do, it’s make a convincing argument. The realistic and romantic on each of Penelope’s shoulders suddenly go quiet.

“And where exactly did you find this scholarly article you are basing such a life-altering decision on?”

He looks down.

“TheMarriageExpert.blogspot.com”

“Colin!”

“They’re an expert, Pen!”

After her giggles finally let up, Penelope sighs. He has convinced her to play more tedious games before…

“Fine. You have yourself a deal, Bridgerton. What’s first on that list of yours?”

Finally, that serious expression on his face drops completely. He grins at her in that way that always makes Penelope’s heart skip a beat.

“Number One: Your First Pet As a Couple,” he reads aloud. “During the course of your marriage, you and your partner will come to share many things together. Finances, homes, memories, and a million other things you cannot even begin to fathom now. A pet will help you prepare for those shared responsibilities. It will teach you both about the importance of…”

As Colin continues reading, a frown pulls at the tips of Penelope’s lips. When he finishes, she attempts to cover her disappointment with a shallow laugh.

“Game over, I guess.”

His eyebrow arches. “Pardon?”

“We’ve never shared a pet, so…”

Colin’s mouth falls open. He pulls his free hand to his chest, underscoring the aghast look on his face.

“Pen… Did Mr. Whiskers mean nothing to you?”

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

Twenty Years Earlier: July 21st, 2003

Relationship Status: Sister’s Best Friend // Best Friend’s Brother

꙳

How did I get here again?

It’s Monday. The first real day of summer holiday. For most kids, that means the start of freedom. Six weeks of fun, followed by real life crashing down on them when the fall term begins. But for Penelope, it means the loss of structure. For six weeks, it is up to her to determine how — and more importantly, where — she spends her time.

She didn’t want to spend it at home. Not this morning, at least. So she went to Grosvenor Square.

At just eight years old, there aren’t many places Penelope can run off to unaccompanied. Even the Square, just two blocks away from her home, is hard to get away with. Her mum only allowed it because she was under the impression that Eloise would be joining her — that between Penelope’s sense and Eloise’s toughness, the two girls would be safe in the nearby park. But when Penelope ran across the street, she learned from Anthony that Eloise was not available for a morning stroll in the square.

She could have just gone back home, but she really, really didn’t want to. So she went to Grosvenor Square. Alone.

She was walking around the park, careful not to step on any cracks in the concrete. She moved to the grass when she realised that everyone was walking around her (even for an eight-year-old, her legs are rather short); she did not want to pull too much attention to herself and have someone question where her parents are.

She was listening. To the birds chirping. To the nearby traffic. Mostly, to the people.

Two teenagers were fighting. She was mad, he was sorry. She said something about him cheating, but after that, their shouts turned to whispers and Penelope couldn’t make out the rest. She wondered what type of exam he could have cheated on.

A little white dog barked at her. His owner looked apologetic.

A neighbour of hers walked past her, pushing a stroller. Penelope thought about hiding behind the nearest tree, certain that Mrs. Abernathy would notice her and say something. Thankfully though, the baby started crying and distracted her.

Just as Penelope was about to turn the corner and listen into the couple’s fight again, she had heard something different.

“Meow.”

She thought her mind was playing tricks on her, but when she walked over to the nearest bush to investigate, a two giant blue eyes stared back at her.

Oh, right.

Penelope looks down at the kitten currently sleeping in her arms.

He had white fur with little patches of black around his ears and nose. His whiskers were long — so long that they didn’t look like they were placed on the right cat. He was so small and scrawny — Penelope couldn’t tell if he was actually a kitten, or just a cat who spent too much time with too little food in his stomach.

Without a collar or any family in sight (she had spent over an hour looking for them), Penelope decided to take him home. She spent 20 minutes taking the 10-minute walk home. She slowed her steps. She took unnecessary turns and waited too long before crossing crosswalks. She held the kitten tightly to her chest, shielded slightly by the nest she made out of her yellow cardigan. She practised what she would say to her mum.

“Penelope. Anne. Featherington. Get that rodent out of my house!”

It had not gone well. Although, even before she landed back on the front steps of her home, Penelope had suspected that there was nothing she could say that could convince her mum to let them keep him.

She followed her mother’s instructions, fleeing from her house with the kitten in hand. Penelope didn’t have much of a plan once she hit the pavement outside, but like they so often do, she found her feet walking in the direction of the home across the street. But they stopped before they could reach it.

Ever since Mr. Bridgerton died last summer, Penelope’s mum had warned her about showing up at their house unannounced. There are eight fatherless children in that house now — the youngest of which never even got to meet her father. They have enough going on as it is.

They have enough going on as it is, she repeats again and again.

That’s how she got here. Sitting on the edge of the pavement outside the Bridgerton household, a cat sleeping soundly in her lap.

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy,” she tells him. She wonders if the kitten can sense the hesitance in her voice.

Silently, Penelope wonders what the right thing to do is. Where the right place to go is. The first place she thinks of is an animal shelter. Surely, that is the most logical place to bring a lost kitten to. They would know how to take care of him, how to find him a home with people who want him. The only problem is that Penelope does not know of any actual animal shelters in Mayfair.

The second place she thinks of is the fire station down the street. Firefighters save cats, don’t they? Or was that —

“Pen?”

Colin, her mind registers before she even has the chance to turn around. When she finally does, she attempts to smile, while also shielding the contraband from his view. Colin, in turn, throws her his usual smile — bright and true. The one that always manages to make Penelope’s stomach flip over inside herself. It does so now, even with the fresh sting of disappointment still welling up inside her.

“Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to —”

“What’s that?” he asks, nodding to the kitten she clearly failed at hiding away from him. Before she has the chance to answer, he sits down beside her on the curb.

“I found him in Grosvenor Square. He was all alone and I didn’t know where else to go…” Her voice trails off, once again contemplating what a responsible person would do next in this situation.

“You gonna keep him?”

“No.” Disappointment is evident in her voice. “Mum won’t let me. She hates cats.”

Penelope takes her eyes off the kitten to look up at Colin. While only two years older that her, he stands nearly a head above her (he’s tall for his age — she’s short for her’s). Even sitting, she has to tilt her head up just to look him in the eyes. As usual, his brown mop of a haircut hangs so low that it covers his eyes somewhat, but Penelope can still see the blue-green colour peaking through. She’s always quite liked that colour.

Colin tilts towards her a few inches, then raises his hand to gently pet the kitten’s head. “I’d take him, but mum and Daph are both allergic.”

Penelope can feel her eyes go wide. Mr. Bridgerton was allergic to hornets…

“Not that kind of allergic,” he reassures her, seemingly reading her mind. “They won’t, like, die or anything. Their skin will just get all red and scratchy if he gets anywhere near them.”

“Oh — sorry. I should just go.” Pulling the kitten out of Colin’s grasp, Penelope stands. She starts to turn away from him, but is once again reminded that she has no idea where she is supposed to go.

“Wait — no. Where are you gonna take him?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “Where are you supposed to take stray cats?”

He shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Okay. I —”

“But I have an idea.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

The Bridgertons live on a gold mine. Metaphorically. Literally, they live on nearly an acre of land in the middle of Mayfair. Their back garden is massive compared to the neighbours that surround them, a feat that is only possible due to the home being passed down from one Bridgerton to the next for so many generations. That’s the same reason Penelope’s family is still able to reside in the house across the street, but their garden is not nearly as sprawling.

“Where are we going?”

She and Colin hadn’t gone through his house, rather, they went around it. Now, he leads her towards the very back of the estate, a few steps ahead, one hand on the wall to their left. His index finger traces the cracks between the stones.

“Have some patience, Pen.”

“I — I do.” And she does. Usually. Usually, Penelope is a remarkably patient girl. Well-mannered. Quiet. She usually wears those attributes on her shoulders like a uniform. But for some reason, they tend to slip away from her whenever Colin is near.

Penelope’s eyes flick right, towards Colin’s family home. It seems purposeful, that they’re walking along the shadows of this wall.

“Is Eloise home yet?” she asks, for no other reason than to fill the silence between them. Usually, Penelope prefers such silence. But not right now.

“Uh, no. Ben took her into the city for her, uh… Her doctor appointment. They usually don’t get back until supper time.”

Out of Colin’s view, she nods. For the past year — ever since Mr. Bridgerton died — Eloise has been seeing a doctor in the city pretty regularly. Penelope’s mum told her to never ask any follow up questions about these visits… but silently, she’s always questioned what type of doctor is able to fix an ailment like heartbreak.

“Are you doing anything for the summer holiday?” she asks, another attempt to just fill the silence. She already knows the answer. They always travel up to Aubrey Hall for at least a week, this time of year. Always.

“Nah. Just staying here, I guess.”

“Oh.” Dread appears suddenly and sits heavily in Penelope’s stomach. Mr. Bridgerton died at Aubrey Hall last August. Of course they’re not eager to return. “Us too.”

“Cool. I’ll see you around then.”

She feels her cheeks instantly flush. “Yeah. Cool,” she says, hoping her voice does not expose the growing warmth on her skin.

Without a word, Colin breaks away from the stone wall beside them and walks towards a particularly dense cluster of trees. When Penelope follows, she finds Colin standing next to something she’s never seen before, despite the many years she’s spent playing with Eloise in this yard. It’s a wooden shed of sorts. It’s wide and just about as tall as Penelope.

“What is that?”

“Some old shed. I dunno… I think they used to store firewood in here, back in the olden days.” He kicks open the latch with his foot. “Empty now, though. I don’t think anyone else remembers it’s here.”

“So…”

“So, your cat could live here.”

Penelope looks down. At some point in the last few minutes, she had somehow forgotten the kitten held tightly against her chest. She had forgotten her whole point in being here.

“Oh! Right. That’s, um…”

She steals another glance at the shed. It certainly does look like it was last used during the “olden times.”

“That’s really kind. But how would he — how would that work?”

“We get him a bed, milk, food… Everything a cat needs to survive.”

Penelope’s brow furrows. “Those things cost money…”

Colin shrugs. “I’ll steal a $20 out of Anthony’s wallet.” A smile erupts on his face when he sees shock overtake Penelope’s. He didn’t know a child could open their mouth that wide. “Kidding — I’ll just tell him I’m sad. He’ll probably hand me a $20 and tell me to go fix my feelings with ice cream.”

“Oh — okay. But…” Her mind stalls, searching for another flaw in his logic to voice aloud. There are just so many to choose from. “Mum always says we can’t get a pet cause they’re too much responsibility. You have to take care of them, feed them, make sure —”

“Hey — we’re both very responsible people. I help keep Greg alive, and that kid thinks licking an electrical socket is a fun pastime. If I can do that, keeping a cat alive will be nothing.”

“So we would, um…” She steals another glance at the shed before them. She can’t help but look at it and see a cage. “We would just lock him in there all day?”

“No!” He says quickly, a bit nervously. “We’ll keep the door open — or I could even cut a cat-sized hole in the side. You know, so he can come and go as he pleases.”

“But if he’s able to leave that easily… Won’t he get lost again?”

“No. If I know anything about cats, it’s that if you feed them, they’ll always find their way back to you. And since you found him hanging out in Grosvenor Square, clearly he’s an outside cat, not an inside cat.”

Penelope looks down at the kitten again. His attention has turned away from her; his round eyes dart back and forth wildly as he takes in all the space around them.

“I thought only strays went outside.”

“No. A cat can have a home and not want to stay cooped up in at all day long.” Colin takes another step towards her. He raises his hand and scratches behind the kitten’s ear, who immediately starts purring. “Clearly, this little badass wants to roam free.”

Yet again, Penelope can feel her cheeks burn pink. She’s lived in London her entire life, she’s heard words far worse than “badass” a million times before — but never from Colin’s lips. In fact, the two of them had never really been alone like this before. He was her best friend’s brother — a friend of sorts, but tangentially so. He was only ever in Penelope’s company through her friendship with Eloise. She isn’t used to having this much of his attention on her.

“Here.” After what feels like hours, she pulls the kitten away from her chest and nearly shoves him into Colin’s. “He seems to really like you.”

“Oh — okay.” Unsurprisingly — and annoyingly quickly — the kitten settles into his arms. Clearly, Colin’s natural charm works on animals just as well as it does on people.

Colin finally takes his eyes off of hers, turning around to show the kitten what could be his new home. With his gaze finally off her, Penelope’s mind flushes with panic. With words she had brushed off just moments before. Colin offering to spend his own money. To cut a hole in the shed. To take care of the cat, himself.

He has enough going on as it is.

Penelope looks up to see Colin setting the tiny creature down in the shed. Then, without much thought, she steps forward and takes the kitten in her arms again.

“I’m sorry, Colin. I didn’t mean to get you wrapped up in this.” She turns away, pulling the kitten closer into her chest. “I’ll drop him off that the fire —”

“Pen, stop.” His hand falls on her shoulder, then squeezes it once, gently. Although she is not very experienced in receiving such small physical gestures, Penelope can tell that he meant it to be reassuring. “He’ll be fine here, I promise.”

She turns slowly. His hand drops. By the time they face each other again, her blush has almost abandoned her cheeks. Almost.

“Are you sure it’s not too much?”

He laughs. Genuinely. Kindly. Just as he always does.

“No.” Gently, Colin pulls the kitten out of her arms again. “How could this little guy ever be ‘too much?’”

Pushing away all thoughts that scream that this is a bad idea, Penelope pushes her shoulders back. She stands tall (metaphorically, of course).

“I’ll do half the work — at least. I can check on his bowl every morning. Make sure he has water and food and whatever else he needs. Maybe you can do the same at night. And if you ever can’t, just let me know and I’ll help. And if it ever does become too much, I can find him somewhere else to live.”

When she finally closes her mouth, Colin’s smile returns. Then, he extends his hand towards her. “You got a deal, Featherington.”

Tentatively, Penelope raises her hand to seal said deal. But before she can make contact, Colin’s hand moves, as if to signal her to “stop.”

“Once last thing. We should just keep this whole thing between us, or ya know… Anthony will send both me and the cat to the nearest shelter.”

“Colin! I —”

“Kidding!” He laughs again, which has a surprisingly good effect on Penelope’s nerves. “But really… It’s simpler if we don’t tell anyone else. Not even Eloise — she can’t keep a secret for her life.”

She tilts her head again, stealing a not-so-quick glance at his eyes (through the mop of hair still obscuring that blue-green colour). Since as long as she can remember, Penelope has always wanted more of Colin — in some ways that she will not be able to define with words until she is much older. But even at just eight years old, Penelope knows she wants to be around him. She wants his attention. She wants to share a secret with him. Even if she knows it’s a bad idea.

“Deal.” With that, Penelope shakes Colin’s hand and seals their fate forever.

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 5th, 2003

꙳

It turned out to be a rather easy secret to keep.

Penelope was good at staying unseen — at blending into the shadows. Every morning at approximately 7 AM, she snuck into the Bridgerton back garden. And every morning at approximately 7:10 AM, she snuck out without being noticed by anyone other than Colin. Not that has mum or siblings would bat an eye if they happened to find Penelope back there. Before Edmund died and her own mum warned her to keep herself scarce, there were times that Penelope spent more time at the Bridgertons’ home than her own house. And despite Portia’s warnings, they would gladly invite her inside, any day.

Colin was also quite good at escaping his family’s notice on his own daily task. Every night around dusk, he would sneak into the kitchen or bathroom, fill an 8-ounce bottle with tap water, then hide it in the front pocket of whatever hoodie he happened to be wearing that day. They kept the cat food in the shed, in a locked container Colin bought at the pet store down the street (with money he had stolen from Anthony’s wallet — although he never admitted that he followed through on the theft “joke” to Penelope). The longer time went on, the less effort he put into sneaking out of the house everyday. The longer time went on, the more obvious it became how easy it is to disappear from a house with nine people. Especially when the one person everyone searches for is no longer around.

The only conspirator that ever put them at risk of being found out was Mr. Whiskers (a name Colin had thought of, after Penelope complained that they couldn’t just keep calling him “little guy.”). Three times in two weeks, Whiskers had loitered around the Bridgerton’s back steps, meowing for attention. Colin had caught him the first time and shooed him off. Daphne caught him the second time and screamed bloody murder. Anthony caught him the third and nearly called animal control, but thankfully, Benedict had stepped in to tell their older brother to “chill out.” Thankfully, Whiskers seemed wary of coming close to the Bridgerton household after that last encounter.

A routine formed. Penelope would sneak into the garden in the morning. Colin would sneak out of his home at night. Mr. Whiskers would come and go as he pleased between meals. Their paths rarely cross. Until tonight, when Colin spots someone running towards the back of the garden in the moonlight from his bedroom window.

Someone quite short.

Less than five minutes later, Colin runs along the same path — far less cautious than he usually is at dusk. He prays his mum or siblings are not watching out their windows like he was his. That they’re asleep — not pacing circles in their rooms in the middle of the night. He knows the risks are there, but the further his feet carry him, the more faraway they feel.

He hears crying in the distance. Quiet, but persistent.

He sees her before she sees him — sitting criss crossed on the entry of the shed, Mr. Whiskers climbing into her lap tentatively. She does not notice him until he is standing but a few feet away.

Colin had felt distinctly uneasy since the very moment he spotted her in the back garden. But a wave of fear strikes him cold when their eyes meet. Hers go so wide that he swears he can see the moonlight reflect off of them. She does not immediately speak; even her crying goes silent when she realises she is not alone.

“Pen, what’s wrong? How can I help?”

“Noth — nothing.” She sounds scared. At least the fearful look in her eye is somewhat obstructed by nightfall. Her words cut clean through the darkness.

He steps forward, now standing only inches away from her. Instinctively, his hand raises and gently grips her shoulder. He feels her flinch beneath his touch, but not enough to remove herself from it.

“Pen, whatever it is, you can tell me. I can help.”

She averts his gaze, focusing intently on the cat still sitting in her lap.

“It’s nothing, really. I — I just wanted to see Mr. Whiskers for a little bit.”

Colin doesn’t say anything, too busy internally trying to make sense of the words she spills and the worry in her voice. They do not fit together.

“I’m sorry,” she continues. She uses the back of her hand to wipe at her nose. “I shouldn’t have — I’ll just go.”

“Don’t go.” Before Penelope can move, Colin squeezes her shoulder again. His mum does the same thing when he gets so upset and that he needs help calming down.

Slowly, under Colin’s grasp, Penelope’s shoulders stop heaving. Her breath evens out. She meets his eye again.

“What happened?”

“Honestly, nothing.”

“Pen —”

“Nothing that isn’t, like, normal, I mean.” He does not know what she means. He can’t imagine a single normal thing that would cause someone to run away crying from their home in the middle of the night. Especially someone as small and defenceless as Penelope.

“Mum and dad were just fighting,” she confesses after realising that Colin’s look of concern will not fade unless she tells him the truth. “A bit louder than usual, I guess. But it’s not like I haven’t heard them fight a million times before.”

“That’s —” Not normal. But he doesn’t say that. He can’t say that. He’s suddenly — alarmingly — struck by the fact that what he deems “normal” might not be the same for Penelope. That there are “normal” things in his life — all of which came about in the past year — that other people would scoff at and tell him are unimaginable for a kid to deal with at his age.

That’s not right, would be more accurate. But he doesn’t say that either. Instead, he simply asks: “Do you want to come inside? El is probably asleep, but I could wake her —”

“No — thank you, but no. I should actually get going.” With that, Penelope slips out of his hold. “Mum will kill me if she realises I slipped out.” She places Mr. Whiskers back in the shed before turning to leave. She takes four steps before Colin finds his voice again.

“You don’t have to do deal with this all by yourself, Pen. I’m here. I want to help.”

At his words, Penelope goes completely still. Deer-in-deadlights type stillness. Then, before he knows it, she’s walking towards him.

Her arms wrap around his torso. Her hands land firmly on his spine. Her forehead falls on his shoulder. Without a single thought, his body reacts. His arms wrap around her and his jaw settles on the crown of her head. For a moment, it feels like its just the two of them in the world. Until Colin feels something furry cross his ankle.

“I guess Whiskers was feeling left out,” he says. Penelope laughs and Colin feels a bit lighter. That lightness is quickly followed by something hollow when Penelope pulls herself out of the hug to pick up the kitten meowing at her feet.

“He keeps trying to follow me home after breakfast.” She giggles softly. “Clearly, he doesn’t remember meeting my mum, or else he would stay away forever. I think she thought he was a rat that day I found him.”

Colin chuckles, and it’s only somewhat forced. “Yeah, he tried sneaking into my house a few times. He met Anthony last time, though, and I don’t think he’s ever gonna forget that.”

She giggles again. “Was he mad?”

“His face was red — literally! Although, I’m starting to think that’s just how is face normally is and that it takes great effort for him to appear like us normal people, if that’s how he reacts to a cute little kitten hanging around our back door.”

Penelope scratches Whiskers behind his ears. Eyes not leaving the cat, she whispers: “I don’t know how people can see something so sweet and get so mad.”

Colin’s eyes don’t leave Penelope when he responds, suddenly a bit deflated: “Me neither.”

Slowly, she lowers Mr. Whiskers back to the ground. The cat does not appear to be very keen on leaving her side just yet, but Penelope still insists: “I should really head back now. Before anyone notices I left.”

Colin spares a glance over his shoulder, towards the family home he had nearly forgotten about. It’s likely past midnight already, but there are still a few lights on upstairs.

“Yeah,” he grumbles. “Me too.”

Penelope nods. She looks like she’s about to turn and leave when Colin blurts out: “You wanna meet here again in the morning? When you feed Whiskers, I mean.”

She doesn’t immediately respond with words, but rather with a very confused expression lit by the moonlight. “I thought —”

“Our system’s like efficient and all,” he cuts in, “but we haven’t exactly seen each other much since we started taking care of him. I dunno, I guess I just thought that we would hang out more.”

“Oh!” Her voice registers barely below a squeak. “Yeah. I know what you mean. I…” She pauses so long that Colin wonders if it is his turn to speak again. But right before he can blurt out something again, Penelope says: “I’d like that.”

For the first time in days, a smile creeps up on Colin’s lips.

“Cool. See you tomorrow.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 14th, 2003

꙳

“I’m not sure I understand the rules of this game.”

“It’s our game. The rules can be whatever we want them to be.”

Penelope stands with the tips of her toes and the palms of her hands pressed neatly against Colin’s matching sets. There’s a piece of cat biscuit placed between her right palm and Colin’s left. There’s a tiny kitten peering up at them from where their shoes connect. He looks just as confused on the parameters of this game as Penelope feels.

The rules, they eventually settle on, are these:

Before getting into the aforementioned position, one person briefly presents the biscuit to Mr. Whiskers (taking turns to avoid leading the cat towards favouritism of one player over another).

On the count of three, one person takes the biscuit into their hands, both turn around and run in opposite directions.

Mr. Whiskers follows whoever he believes holds his treat.

Penelope ends up with the biscuit three times. Colin ends up with it five times. It falls to the ground between them eleven times. Each time, without fail, Whiskers immediately takes off after Penelope.

“This isn’t fair!” Colin calls out from behind a tree on their twentieth attempt at this so-called ‘game.’ “It’s not my fault you bonded with him first.” He points a finger at the cat currently pawing at her ankles. “I feed you just as much as she does — traitor!”

“Shhh, Colin!” Penelope whisper-yells. “Someone might hear you.”

“Oh, who cares?” he says nonchalantly, retreating back towards the shed.

I care, Penelope thinks. She doesn’t want any one of Colin’s many siblings to stumble upon them back here. She’s not ready to give up this secret. She’s not willing to end this game. Not yet, anyway.

“Mr. Whiskers cares. I doubt he wants to be evicted from his home just because you’re a sore loser.” She picks the kitten up and plops him down on Colin’s lap, now sitting criss-cross in the shed’s doorway.

“Well, he should have thought about that before picking sides.” He sticks his tongue out at Mr. Whiskers, who continues to appear unphased by his surroundings.

Like she has come accustomed to doing over the past two weeks, Penelope sits down on the other end of the shed’s opening. His body is turned towards her, but she keeps her positioned outwards, as if to keep watch. Her legs cross in front of her at the ankles, her nails scratch into the grain beneath her, and, sitting upright, the crown of her head brushes the wood frame. Colin is — obviously — slouched in his spot beside her.

After a moment of quiet, Colin clears his throat.

“You know, you can come over for dinner tonight, if you want.”

“Oh, no. That’s okay,” Penelope says quickly. Dismissively. “Mum will expect me home soon. I think we’re having stew.”

“Yeah, but what about tomor—” It’s a pretty uncommon occurrence for Penelope to see a blush pass by Colin’s typically unblemished face, but right now, it hits his cheeks in an instant. He turns away. “Well, not tomorrow. Obviously. But another day.”

The mention of tomorrow brings a feverish feeling to Penelope’s chest. Much different than the warm feeling she usually feels in that same spot when she’s around Colin.

“I can’t. I — I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t.” He finally looks her in the eye again. “You wouldn’t, I promise. When you have eight kids, one more mouth to feed hardly makes a difference.” His eyes travel to the side again. They point towards his house, partially obstructed by the scattering of trees they’ve found themselves in. “El would be happy if you stopped in. Mum too.”

Penelope tries to push out her mother’s voice from her head when she says: “Yeah. Another day. Soon.”

“Good.”

After another moment of quiet, she pushes herself forward and lands with two feet on the grass.

“I really should head back now, though.”

“Okay, I’ll —”

“But, Colin?” She interrupts — a truly rare occurrence for Penelope Featherington.

“Yeah?”

“I was just thinking… Maybe I could feed Mr. Whiskers breakfast and dinner tomorrow. I know we have our system, but… I just — I don’t want you to have to deal with taking care of him on top of any… family stuff.”

Colin, now holding rather tightly onto Mr. Whiskers in his arms, considers her offer for a moment. His brows furrow. His eyes glance downward. He starts forming a word on his lips and Penelope expects to hear the word “no” escape from them shortly after. But instead, he nods and says: “That’s kind of you to offer. Thanks, Pen.”

Kindness isn’t something that Penelope has ever been thanked for before. She had been rewarded for it in other ways, but not like this. Kindness had always been something that was expected, not appreciated. Now, she feels hesitant to accept thanks for something as small as offering up a few minutes of her time for someone who has gone through more grief than she can even imagine. So instead of accepting it outright, she simply nods and says: “Goodnight, Colin.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 25th, 2003

꙳

When Penelope walks towards the shed at approximately 6:55 AM this Monday morning, the door is shut. This is strange. The door is always open. Penelope had convinced Colin not to cut a little cat door on the side of the shed (he had wanted to use a saw from their garage), so the door always has to be open for Whiskers to come and go. Always.

The closer she gets, the harder it is for her to take another step. Her head is already filled with the image of an empty cavern on the other side of that door. It couldn’t have close on its own; the latch is locked. Someone closed it.

Just as her hand grazes that metal latch, Penelope hears footsteps. Quick and increasingly loud footsteps. She jumps (literally) around — heart pounding, eyes wide — and sees…

“Colin! Where’s Mr. Whiskers?!

“In there.” He points to the shed behind her, still shut tight. Once he gets close enough, he reaches over he shoulder and finally undoes the latch. Just as promised, the cat is there, curiously looking up at them.

“He keeps trying to follow me back into the house after I feed him. Last night, he was scratching at the back door. Thank God I got to him before Anthony.”

“So he was just locked in there all night?”

She spares another sideways glance at the shed’s interior. It’s not nearly as bare as it had been that first day she looked inside. There’s two containers. Two bowls. Two electric lanterns. A blanket. A few cat toys. And a few human toys she assumes once belonged to Colin. To an animal as tiny as Mr. Whiskers, it might seem huge, but to Penelope, it all feels very claustrophobic.

“Yeah, but… Sometimes it’s just safer to stay put for a little while. Even outdoor cats need to be reigned in some nights.”

Penelope doesn’t know whether to agree or disagree with his words, so she tries her best to ignore them. She climbs into the shed, gives Whiskers an affectionate bop on the head, then fills his bowl with breakfast.

“I wanted to wake up early and let him out, but… I guess I slept in.” Colin’s out of her view, still standing just outside the shed, but she can guess there’s a guilty look creeping up on his face.

“You’re not wrong,” she finally settles on. When Whiskers finishes his meal, she finally looks back to Colin. Just as expected, guilt is evident on his face. “But maybe Mr. Whiskers isn’t an outside cat after all. Maybe that’s why he keeps trying to follow us back to our own homes.”

“I thought that was just because he loves us.” Leave it to Colin Bridgerton to transform guilt into charm in under 30 seconds.

“Well…” Penelope turns back to Mr. Whiskers again. As usual, he’s peering up at them with a transfixed — maybe even loving — stare. “Maybe you have a point.”

“I usually do —”

“But still — do you really think this is what’s best for him?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…”

She bites her tongue — literally. All of this started because of her own selfish wants. To keep the cat. To occupy Colin’s attention. To have a reason to get out of her house every morning. But the more time has gone on, the harder it has become to see past the potential consequences of her selfishness.

“Summer’s almost over. We have to go back to school and can’t look out for him all day. It’s gonna get cold soon…” Colin’s face looks serious now. More serious than she’s used to seeing it. She looks away. “What if he gets sick? Or needs a vet? I just don’t know if this is really his best option.”

Penelope points both hands towards the shed. Towards the small wooden structure that completely transformed her summer. Towards the only home Mr. Whiskers has ever known — dim and claustrophobic as it may be. She expects Colin’s eyes to follow her lead, but they don’t. For a moment, it feels as though her presence completely slips from his view. His eyes are fixated on something in the distance — something in the opposite direction. Then —

“Shite!”

His arms hastily wrap around Penelope’s waist. It takes everything in her not to shriek in surprise as he practically throws her into the shed. Thankfully, Mr. Whiskers jumps from the doorway to the back of the shed in an instant, or else she surely would have crushed him on impact.

“Colin! What —”

“Shh!” Colin climbs in and shuts the door behind him. Thank God those electric lamps are still (just barely) holding onto life and dimly illuminating the space, or else Penelope would not have been able to discern him mouth: “Anthony.”

The tips of their toes touch in the limited space. Penelope wonders if he can feel her shaking through the plastic tips of her yellow converse. The concerned look he throws her way tells her that he must.

“You okay?” he mouths.

She thinks about nodding. She briefly wonders if a nod can count as a lie, or if lies can only be spoken aloud. But she doesn’t do anything, except stay frozen in her spot.

Everything is quiet. For a brief moment, Penelope thinks they may have actually gone unnoticed. Then, she remembers that the latch — the flimsy piece of metal that keeps these doors shut — is on the other side. When Mr. Whiskers paws at the wood beams, the door swings open. The morning light nearly blinds her, but not enough to miss Anthony Bridgerton’s very mad — very red — face.

“Colin — what the hell?!”

Just as Colin had thrown her into of the shed mere moments ago, Anthony now pulls Penelope out of it by the shoulders. Just like Whiskers, she somehow manages to land on her feet.

“I knew it! I knew you were irresponsible, but this —” He bends down and grabs Whiskers by the scruff of his neck. “This is insane. Even for you.”

Anthony turns to Penelope, as if he has only just now discovered her presence beside Colin. In mere seconds, she watches his face turn from anger to shock to annoyance. He turns to his little brother again.

“I will be the responsible adult and make sure this — thing — finds an actual home and doesn’t continue living on the streets.” With a near-growl caught in his throat, Anthony tells Colin: “We will discuss this later.”

He turns to leave, but stops. “And Colin, do not mention this to mum. Or anyone else.”

He starts then stops again. “And Penelope, please do not let my brother’s bad influence rub off on you. A nice girl like you has enough trouble as it is being friends with Eloise.”

It isn’t until Anthony has properly stomped away, Mr. Whiskers securely tucked in his arms, that Penelope seems to regain control of her body and mind. Slowly, she turns towards Colin. She uses every second between then and the moment she looks him in the eye to begin preparing an apology. For getting him in trouble with his brother. For getting him caught up in this mess to start with. For being a bad friend. But the moment that their eyes meet… Colin does not look like he is expecting an apology of any sort.

He laughs.

“Did you see the look on his face?!”

“Uhh. I don’t —”

“He looked like a tomato! I swear one day he’s gonna burst and —”

“Colin,” she says, concern in her voice, too low to break through the noise of his continued laughter.

“— marina sauce is gonna go flying —”

“Colin!” she says again, a bit louder this time. Thankfully, it seems to get his attention. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have —”

“Oh god, Pen. Don’t be sorry.”

“But —”

“But your — your brother —”

“I should be apologising for Ant— even if you and him were both right about Whiskers needing somewhere else to live.”

“Yeah…” As much as she will miss her tiny, furry friend, this is for the best. For Whiskers, at least. “But Anthony was so mad at you. And I —”

“He’ll get over it. That’s the great thing about having seven siblings — wait five minutes and someone will do something even stupider than you. Daph and El are probably inside getting into a fist fight as we speak.”

The mention of her best friend temporarily draws Penelope’s thoughts away from her internal pity party. She saw Eloise plenty of times over the past few weeks, but not nearly as much as she did during previous summer breaks. Before last August.

“You wanna come over for dinner tonight?” Colin asks, breaking her from her thought spiral.

“Hmm?”

“I said,” he smirks, “do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t know… Anthony seemed —”

“Don’t worry about Anthony. He’ll get over it — and you heard him, he’s not even going to rat us out to my mum.” He takes a step forward, then places his hand on Penelope’s shoulder. He squeezes it once. “It’ll be fun. Everyone will be excited to see you.”

Not for the first time — and certainly not the last — Penelope feels at a loss for words. All she can manage is a tiny nod. A nearly imperceptible movement.

Colin smiles.

“Good. Just so you know, the door is always open. Always.”

Finally, little Penelope Featherington finds her voice again.

“I know.”

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

Penelope tries to hide the smile on her lips by shoving another fork full of shrimp fried rice into her mouth. Colin — of course — sees right through her attempt.

“So…”

“Anthony was right. We were awfully irresponsible that summer. He was better off after Danbury took him in and he became Lord Whiskers.”

“Hey — give us a little credit! How many 8 or 10-year-olds do you know who could keep a cat alive for a summer all by themselves?”

“The only impressive thing we did that summer was keeping our little secret hidden from the rest of your family.”

“What are you talking about?!” Colin says, unable to keep his ever-charming laugh from escaping his throat as he speaks. “Do not downplay our role in raising that cat. You rescued him from the mean streets of London. I —”

“I found him hiding out in a bush in Grosvenor Square!”

“Exactly! And I —”

“Colin!”

“I built him a home,” he barely manages to get out through his laughter.

“That’s a bit over-dra—”

“We fed and took care of him for over a month. We were just kids — that’s pretty impressive. That means something.”

In her heart, Penelope knows that — obviously — it means something. But does it mean what Colin wants it to mean? That they should get married? Even with the rules he set forth, it seems like an insane connection to even consider.

“I don’t know…”

“For five weeks, he was ours. That means a lot.”

For a moment, Penelope does consider it. She thinks about who Colin was to her before she found Mr. Whiskers. A friend — of sorts. Her best friend’s brother. A neighbour. A crush. Someone she looked at and longed for. After, she thinks of who Colin was to her on that morning Anthony found them hiding out in that tiny wooden shed. A friend. A fellow kid. A conspirator. Someone who saw her cowering in the dark and asked if she was okay.

So what, if their hypothetical marriage hinges on a technicality? People have married on flimsier grounds before.

“Fine,” she relents. “It counts.”

A moment ago, she wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Colin’s grin grows even wider.

“Of course it does.” As Penelope attempts to cover her own grin with a scoff, Colin picks up his phone again.

“Let’s see…”

#im an atheist and im saying a prayer for ao3 tonight #fanfic #bridgerton #fanfiction #polin #dancing around the truth #weepingfromacedartree #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #ao3 #archive of our own #edit: just realized I wrote 'marina' sauce instead of 'marinara' sauce #and I'm not fixing it cause that shits funny #shout out to my girl marina

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scullysexual · 8 months

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Oh it would be so easy to slip the clothing that separates them down, for him to slide into her. To actually have sex felt like too much of a commitment, too big a step forward, she wanted it to be more than just a quick rut on the couch- as pathetic as that sounded. Besides this- the way he moves slowly against her core- to change this all of a sudden might mean they’ll both wake up and stop. [Mulder and Scully partake in some dry humping]

Day 2: Dry Humping.

The movie had ended ages ago, she was supposed to leave ages ago yet instead Scully finds herself laid back on the couch, limbs all tangled, a tongue down her throat and its owner laying on top of her.

She wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

Mulder was hard. She could feel it even through the many layers of clothing. Even she was feeling the effects of their make-out session and the way he was grinding so perfectly against her centre.

“Will you stay tonight?” he asks, his lips against hers. He asks her this every Friday. They’ll be no funny business, he sometimes adds. I’ll even sleep on the couch. And each time she has an excuse. I have to finish that report, or, My mother’s coming round. She was telling him the truth each time but none of those things stopped her from staying over necessarily.

“Yes,” she answers taking the chance. And maybe it was because enough time has passed, maybe it was the fact that they were responsible, mature adults who could spend the night simply existing next to each other. Or maybe it was the way he was grinding on her, the pressure and feeling making her brain all fuzzy that influences her answer.

“Oh my god,” he whispers in awe. His hands yank at her hips, pulling her even closer. Scully yelps which turns into a sigh and then a moan as he presses himself even harder against her. There was no ignoring what they were doing now, no pretending that they were simply kissing.

It happens all of a sudden. She feels the pressure building before she explodes, softly, almost like snowfall or very light rain. Her body stiffens and she clutches him a little closer, hanging on.

She just came, she thinks.

Mulder has also stiffened in her arms. This wasn’t supposed to happen, she was supposed to leave.

A hot redness creeps over her cheeks and neck.

“Um…” she says, lost for what to say, sitting up. Mulder moves automatically. She chances a look at his face and it seems to be one of shock.

“I’m sorry,” she says, feeling a sudden need to get out of here. With enough space cleared, she is able to stand and she begins heading towards his front door. “I’ll- I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Scully—”

But she is gone before he can utter another word. Mortified and embarrassed for reasons she can’t explain she runs as far away from Mulder’s apartment as fast as she can.

#the x-files #the x files #txf fic #xfiles fanfiction #fictober day 2 #fictober2023 #kinktober23 #iwritesmut #scullysexualwrites

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dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3 · 5 days

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I doubt literally anyone else will care about this, but this has been a mini goal/desire of mine for so fricken long now, so I wanted to at least share it here, ha.

Anyway, TPWP is one of my more popular fics. It took a while to get there when I was posting, creeping up with the kudos and hits and everything each week, but by god did it get there. Once I finished posting it and it plateaued in statistics, the only fic that was above it in terms of popularity was my old fic, A Pirate’s Life (APL), which I had written when I was like 17-18 I believe. And APL is not a bad fic, no. It’s just definitely unpolished and a bit rough in spots. And the ship itself is a bit ehhhh, though I always liked the fanon interpretation of the ship much more than anything from canon. I’m digressing though.

Anyway, I always privately hoped that TPWP would surpass APL in popularity, since I much prefer TPWP in terms of writing ability and the ship itself. I also wanted my most kudosed and ‘popular’ fic to be something that reflected my current writing level and ships, not something I wrote and liked when I was newly an adult. While I know now that the number of kudos on a fic ultimately doesn’t matter too much and doesn’t really say if a fic is popular or not, TPWP having more kudos than APL was always a private goal of mine, something I privately wanted and hoped for.

However, after I had finally finished posting TPWP and the last of the rush of kudos came in from that, I saw that TPWP was almost 200 kudos away from APL, and given the fact that fics will often stagnate in kudos/hits once they’re complete and haven’t posted in a couple months (at least in my experience), I had a feeling that I’d never really make this goal. And it was a little disappointing, but I never let it bother me too much. Plus, starting last year I had a new most popular fic (thanks, Luigi and the Beast), so I had something else that reflected my modern writing style and ships, so it wasn’t that big of a deal anymore in my mind.

Still, part of me wanted TPWP to surpass APL, and today, it finally happened. While this can obviously still swap since I do still get kudos on APL from time to time, the fact that TPWP not only managed to reach APL’s kudos count, but surpassed it even once? I never thought that would happen, to be honest. I never thought that TPWP would manage to get almost 200 extra kudos once I stopped posting regularly, since in my experience that doesn’t happen often. Usually I’ll get a decent amount once it’s no longer an active fic, but not enough that it would surpass another old fic that was gaining passive kudos too.

Anyway, I’m not so sure where I’m going with this. As you can see from my screenshots, it’s like 5am where I am now, and my brain just woke me up and refuses to let me go back to sleep (a common occurrence these days, for some reason. I’ve long since stopped asking why my brain does what it does in regards to sleep. It’s better that way), so I’m kinda rambling.

The point, I suppose, is that this was a goal of mine for so long now, and I’m honestly kind of proud and happy that I finally reached it. While I do have problems with TPWP, ultimately I am very proud of it and it makes me so, so happy that people are still enjoying it all of these years later. When I started writing fanfic over 13 years ago at age 13, I never would have expected to be here. My writing was meh at best and I struggled a lot with getting my thoughts and ideas across. There’s a reason I will never post my fanfiction.Net username, even though my oldest fics are still posted there. Writing was just something I did for fun and as a way to show my love for my fandoms; it was never anything serious. But I always wanted to write a fic that mattered… you know? That stuck with people. That people genuinely liked and that maybe even helped them. You know?

I think I managed that with TPWP. I’ve gotten so many comments over the years thanking me for writing it, people saying that they will go back to it and reread it from time to time, that it helped them, etc. I was always so grateful and happy that I was able to write something that resonated with so many people, which had been a dream of mine ever since I started writing and would cry tears of frustration when I struggled to get my thoughts across how I wanted to.

And, like I’ve said. I know that kudos/favorites are not the only metric to determine if a fic is popular or ‘good.’ However, it has always been a good base for me to gauge interest in my fics, to see roughly what people think of it. And, even though it prolly shouldn’t, the amount of kudos/favorites on my fics has always mattered to me. Ever since I was a young child I’ve had an intense desire to be liked. But more than that, I always wanted to be ‘the favorite.’ To be ‘the best.’ Even when I knew I never would be, simply because I lacked the skill or patience to be ‘the best.’ I still would always want that, and it would hurt me deep inside to know that I just… wasn’t. Yes, I was smart, but I was never ‘the smartest.’ Yes, I was well liked by my peers, but I was never ‘popular.’ Yes, I was always doing well and could hold my own in most things I tried, but I was never (and would never) be ‘the best.’ I just couldn’t. I was either too unskilled, too impatient, too shaky (physically, in some cases), too… everything, and I could never, ever be the absolute best at anything, really. I just physically couldn’t. I’d never be the best singer, I’d never be the best artist, I’d never be the best writer, I’d never be the best chef, I’d never be the best creator, and I’d never be that elusive ‘favorite.’ Never, never, never.

And it hurt. A lot. Growing up and even to this day. But I’ve gotten so much better with it over the years. With the knowledge that I will never be ‘the best,’ that I will never be ‘the favorite,’ and that this is okay. And, in fact, not only is this okay, but it’s expected. Perfection is a myth and it’s impossible to achieve. I spent over 375k words trying to showcase this fact, because it’s something I still, to this day, three months past twenty-six, struggle with. But I’m getting there. By god, am I getting there. And by removing that desire to be ‘perfect,’ to be ‘the best,’ I’ve improved so much in every field I create work in. Once I did away with the desire to create something ‘perfect,’ I was able to make things that were just ‘good enough.’ Is this art project I spent hours working on made more of hot glue than its actual art medium? Yes, but it’s made. And it looks nice enough. And while it will never win any awards, I like it. Is my writing repetitive, derivative of itself, sometimes rushed, and more focused on angst than plot? Yes. But it’s made. And it’s good enough. And people like it. And, most importantly of all?

I like it.

I like it. Even if it isn’t ’perfect.’ Even if it won’t win awards. Even if no one else on the planet likes it, if everyone looks at it and goes ‘… okay, so what?’ I like it. I spent so much time and effort creating it. I did everything I could to make it properly. And it doesn’t matter if it’s a bit lumpy. If it has exposed seams. If it doesn’t look like other people’s creations. It’s made, and I made it, and I put my heart and soul into it, and that? That’s what matters. I learned while making it, and next time I make something similar, I’ll do better. And the time after that? I’ll do better again. And again. And again. I’ll never reach ‘perfection.’ I’ll never make something that people will look at, gasp, and think ‘my god, that’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.’ I’ll never reach that impossible goal that I made for myself when I was a young preteen, painfully insecure and wanting to find validation in others. I never will reach this goal, never, ever, ever, ever, ever.

But I will get better. I will improve from what I’ve done before. And I will get stronger in every possible way I can, and I will forgive myself for the ways that I can’t. I have a lot of limitations, things I cannot physically or mentally overcome. And I will forgive myself for it. I will. I will.

And I guess, at the end of the day, that’s my point here. That perfection is a lie, that there is no end, that there is only improvement and self-appreciation. APL represents this a lot for me. At 17-18, I still struggled with this so much. I spent all of my high school years riddled with self-hatred and anxiety, wanting to be the best, but riddled with the knowledge that I never would be. I crashed and burned in middle and high school because of this. I was so terrified of never being all I wanted to be that I let myself burn to ash, to give up completely, because that was better in my mind than trying my hardest and failing. I always failed at what I wanted to do, and I was so focused on that supposed ‘failure’ that I failed to see how far I had come. I failed to see that while I wasn’t ’the favorite,’ I was still well liked. I failed to see that while I wasn’t ’the best,’ I was good enough. I was good enough. And I always would be. This is something I didn’t realize at 17-18, not yet.

But I do now. I do now, and TPWP represents that for me in many ways. Perfection in a myth. Unilateral adoration and love is impossible. And no matter what, every time you create you will get a little better, a little better, a little better. And so, the only thing you can do is create. And love what you create. And keep trying no matter what, all so that you can create more in the future and grow. So you can do what you love without fear of failure.

Anyway, this has gone on much longer than anticipated. It was just supposed to be a quick ‘haha look! I succeeded at an old, useless goal! :-D’ But somehow it turned into this. But that’s okay. That’s just who I am. I like to ramble. I like to get my thoughts out there into the world. I’m pretentious and think way too deeply on things that matter to no one else. It matters to me. It matters to me. And it doesn’t matter if no one ever reads this, or if people read it and roll their eyes at my pretension. I wrote this for me, to just get this out there in the world, and at the end of the day, that’s what matters. That’s what’s important. Not what the ‘invisible audience’ in my head screams at me every day.

I hope y’all have a good day. :-)

#Personal post #Oof this got out of hand #I’ve been writing this for over an hour at this point #Ahhhhh #Oh well #Hope someone got something from reading this #But even if not that’s okay. I got something from it

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lino-jagiyaa · 1 year

Text

Skater boi - Bang Chan

Pairing: childhood best friend!bangchan x female reader

Genre: Best friend to lovers trope, mutual pining, non idol au

Warnings: swearing, mentions of smoking (weed), (Mostly fluff + angst so dw)

Word count: 270

Synopsis: you never thought you would catch a crush on your best friend but times have changed. you both are all grown up and everything is different now

Notes: characters are aged down a bit in this (about 5 years lol - chan is 20/reader is the same) so hopefully this isn’t too confusing

extra note: and yes i know, i’m starting so many writings and haven’t finished a bunch but i needed something to post lol and this has been in my drafts since september 🤦🏽‍♀️

song rec - serendipity by bts

send an ask to be tagged in the full fic! | this is just a preview/prologue

—

when the weather starts to cool and the sky starts to gray, your favorite thing to do is go skating with your best friend chris. skating through the park, along the train station, and the occasional smoke sesh when you both need a little break from everything and everyone. except each other of course.

as the years went by and you both began to grow into the young adults you are today, you started to see a different side of him.

maybe a better one than before.

the two of you have been best friends since you were little. neighbors since you can remember. you can’t even think of a time where the two of you weren’t together. through the good times and the bad.

he was always there. always by your side.

by the time you both had reached high school, around grade 10. you started catching feelings for him. you had a crush on him for the longest time. this aching feeling for him but you could never convince yourself it was the right thing to do. nor found the right time to confess.

you couldn’t tell him either. you felt as though it would ruin your life long friendship and that was the last thing you wanted.

he was the only friend that really stuck. chris was always so kind, so caring. watching over you and always making sure you were okay and accounted for.

always knowing how to cheer you up. always finding the right words. he healed you in a way. a feeling indescribable with words.

he felt like home. he was your home.

❥𓂃𓏧

taglist: @dadonbabysworld @lynanist

#linojagiyaa #bang chan x reader #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #bangchan soft hours

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rorywritesjunk · 20 days

Text

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Crocodile brings on a former assistant to manage Buggy and his workload. Buggy realizes he likes it when Taron praises him for the littlest things.

Rating: R-ish for this chapter. Warning: Male msturbation towards the end. Buggy is starting to pine. Mentions of sex. Buggy feels pathetic. Word Count: 1,934 A/N: My self indulgent submissive Buggy fic.

Title comes from “Take Me To Church” by Hozier.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Buggy hated admitting to himself how much he wanted Taron giving him praise. Hated himself for it. They sounded so genuine too: a hand on his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze with a smile on their face as they leaned down to him to say, “Good boy.” And he hated how uncomfortable his pants would feel afterwards, his face burning red when they'd pull back and step away to refill his drink or look over the paperwork.

They’d been keeping their sleeves rolled up, letting Buggy see the tattoos on their arms. It wasn't anything too eye-catching, just flowers and plants decorating their skin, but Buggy found himself often stopping to stare at the works of art.

It was a few days after his little meltdown outside. Buggy expected something from Crocodile, whether punishment or mocking for how he behaved around Taron, but nothing was brought up in the meeting that morning. Did they not tell him anything? They had left him that evening to go visit Crocodile, though stayed back in their room the last two nights. What were the two doing if not discussing Buggy’s assassination?

Buggy, against his better judgment, decided to ask.

“If you're not plotting to assassinate me, why do you spend so much time with him?” He demanded as he leaned back in his seat, choosing to ignore the stack of paperwork in front of him. “Well?”

“We just spend time together.” Taron told him teasingly as they brought him a fresh cup of coffee before taking a seat. They looked at the stack of paperwork then back at him. “Keep working.”

“Not until you tell me what you're doing with him!” Buggy shot back. “How can I trust that you're not here to kill me when you spend hours with him in the evening?!”

Taron looked at him with an amused expression as they tilted their head to the side. He was adorably dumb in a way. Did he have no clue what two adults might get up to in the privacy of a bedroom?

“What do you think we are doing?” They asked him. “And no, it's not planning your death or having a sleepover.”

“Well, how would I know?!” Buggy snapped. “I don't know what you two would be doing other than-” His mouth snapped shut and his face turned red. He stared at Taron in shock. “Wait-”

“Jealous?” They chuckled. “Get back to your work, Buggy.”

Buggy’s face burned and he looked away from them. Why did he bother to ask? He grabbed his pen and started scribbling his name on the forms. Taron had marked the spots he needed to sign or initial which made it a little easier for him to get it done, but his mind was suddenly elsewhere, thinking of Taron and what they did after dinner, disappearing for hours away from Buggy to spend time with Crocodile. He almost wondered what it was like.

“Once you finish that stack you’re done for the day.” Taron told him as they looked through the appointment book. “No meetings or appointments today so you're free to do what you'd like.” They closed the book and set it aside. “A whole day without me bothering you, how does that sound?”

“Terrible.” He muttered. He could spend the day with his crew, checking in on them and seeing how they're doing, but he found himself disliking the idea of Taron not being around him and he didn't understand why. He glanced over at Taron before looking back down. “...do you want to spend it with me?”

Taron shrugged. “I figured you'd jump at the chance for me not to be breathing down your neck over every little thing.”

“Maybe I don't mind it, ever think of that?!” He snapped at them. Taron looked at him amused as they leaned back in their chair. “M-Maybe I should get to know you since you're working so closely with me! Gotta make sure you're not going to kill me!”

“Buggy, I am not going to kill you.” They chuckled as they reached back to take their hair out of their ponytail before shaking their hair loose. Buggy couldn't stop himself from staring at them. Why did a simple little thing capture his attention so much? “But if you really want me around, I don't see why not. I don't have anything else to do.”

“Or anyone?” Buggy asked before he could stop himself.

“Not much of a filter on you, is there?” They replied as they grinned at him. Buggy was relieved he didn’t offend them. Even if Taron claimed they weren't there to kill him, Crocodile could. “Don't worry. Crocodile's busy today. We won't be meeting so you can have me all to yourself if you'd like.”

They winked at Buggy and his breath caught in his throat. He hated this.

Why did Buggy suggest they spend the day together? Why did he think that was smart to offer? Taron had their sleeves rolled up again, the top few buttons undone on their shirt. They cuffed their pants. They looked so casual and comfortable and Buggy wondered how they were able to do that. They had worn the cravat earlier, the one he put in their wardrobe, but chose to leave it behind at the table when they came outside.

Off-work Taron wasn’t much different than Work-mode Taron, just a little flirtier, at least Buggy thought so. Buggy didn’t understand why his heart skipped a beat when they smiled at him or how he had butterflies in his stomach when they touched his arm. He almost fainted when they caught him after he stumbled over a root trying to get away from them.

This was a normal reaction when you are waiting for someone to kill you right? Even though Taron assured Buggy they wouldn’t harm him, he was still on edge at times.

Eventually Taron opted to return to the tent, wanting to lay down for a bit to rest. Buggy returned with them though he went to his office while Taron headed to their bedroom. He was fine by himself. It was a nice walk, he liked being outside, but now he was by himself and… he didn’t really like that. He wanted to be with Taron but he couldn’t just ask to lay down with them. That would be weird.

He hated how he was feeling.

Buggy entered his office and sighed heavily. At least the mountain of paperwork was gone for now. He could go relax for a little bit, take a breather. Maybe he wouldn’t need to worry about anything.

He went to put his coffee mug at the sink to wash later, pausing for a moment when he saw Taron’s cravat on the table. Maybe he should return it to them so it wouldn’t get lost. That could give him a reason to go see them even though it hadn’t even been ten minutes. He picked it up, feeling the soft material. They didn’t have to wear it after he entered their room and tried to change their wardrobe, but he liked that they did. It was nice seeing a bit of a bright color on them.

Buggy rubbed the material between his thumb and finger, glancing around to make sure he was alone before he brought it up to his nose to sniff it. He didn’t know what to expect. He never noticed if Taron wore any sort of cologne or perfume, but he picked up scents of lavender and mint on the cravat. Maybe their soap or shampoo? He glanced around again. He had shut the door behind him so he was alone. No one would just barge into his office.

He took another sniff at the cravat, inhaling deeper, closing his eyes as he imagined Taron standing in front of him, praising him, saying how good he was for doing all his work, for how well he listened to them, and that good boys get rewarded. Buggy let out a low groan, gripping the cravat in one hand as his other hastily undid his pants. What was wrong with him to get turned on by the smell of someone’s soap and the praise they gave him? Was there something wrong with him or was this normal?

His hand slipped past the waistband of his boxers, finding himself growing hard. He had been feeling it ever since Taron told him what they did with Crocodile after dinner for a few hours. He had to think of the larger man beating Buggy senseless to keep himself from getting aroused at the thought of Taron touching him, telling Buggy he was such a good boy, that he was wonderful, all the praise he wanted to hear.

It was embarrassing to think of them in that way. They flirted with him, praised him, touched his arm and shoulder but what would ever make them consider touching Buggy in the way he was imaging right now? He was almost 40 and no one ever did, he never even came close. And he was up against someone like Crocodile in Taron’s eyes and he couldn’t imagine them even thinking about Buggy the way he thought of them now.

It was a little awkward leaning against his desk as he stroked himself, pressing the cravat to his nose, biting on an edge of the fabric as he shut his eyes, imagining Taron beside him, telling him what to do, to touch himself slower, don’t want it to be over so soon, right? Be good, Buggy, slow down. There you go, you’re so good at listening.

He tried, he tried to be good at listening to them even if he pitched a fit and was stubborn about it. Anything to hear them say good boy, knowing those words were just for him and no one else. Only he got to hear the praise, it wasn’t for others. Only him.

His hand pumped faster, whining pitifully as he thought of Taron kneeling on the ground in front of him, eyes on his leaking, hard cock, waiting for him to finish, coaxing him with praise and kind words as they waited. Their hands on his hips, as they leaned forward, opening their mouth for him. He imagined their breath on his cock, their mouth taking him, eyes closed as they moaned around him.

Buggy came, grunting and hissing quietly as he made a mess in his pants. Without much thought, he used the cravat to wipe his hand clean, only to panic when he realized what he did. Oh, oh no. He was dead. Taron would find out what he did and beat him like Crocodile had, but for a second he actually liked that idea, his cock twitching at the thought of Taron being the one to do it.

No, no, no, you dumbass. He scolded himself as he wiped his hand clean. He could get the cravat washed, it would be fine. Taron wouldn't have to know what happened. He looked around the room again, knowing he was alone but wanting to triple check, before he took the cravat and slid it down his pants, using it to clean himself.

The material felt wonderful against his warm cock as he wrapped it around, stroking himself slowly as he cleaned himself. He wondered if he could cum again, overstimulate himself a bit, but there was someone at the entry of his office, calling his name, so he hastily shoved the cravat into his pants before buttoning back up. Hopefully it wasn't obvious what he was doing.

#buggy the clown #taron x buggy #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #one piece oc #one piece original character #nonbinary oc #nonbinary original character

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