#every morning (its been two days) i wake up brush my teeth get coffee and practice my japanese on duolingo

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 6: Dinosaurs, Dates and Diners, Oh My!

Summary: After a long last week, Javi takes you out to celebrate the end of the school year. Even when things don't go according to his plans, you're convinced you've never been on a better date.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected P in V sex (wrap it up, y'all), phone sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, masturbation (m and f), mentions of panic/anxiety, mentions of food/eating, subpar Spanish (my 4 years of high school Spanish don't take up a lot of space in my brain, I apologize) Javi being our consent king, Javi caring so much about you it physically hurts me

Word Count: 14.1K (I didn't realize how long this was until I finished)

A/N: YOU GUYS. When I started doing this, I just wanted to write for fun and posted thinking that no one would read this, let alone be invested in it 🥺 Y'all are so sweet, thank you so much!! This was another fun chapter to write, I'm thinking I have some good ideas about what these two are up to next!!

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Javier Peña had always been a light sleeper. Even as a kid, he would wake up to the sound of a stray footstep wandering through his home, or the wind rustling the tree outside his bedroom window. Once he got to Colombia, it was like he never slept at all. Since coming home, his dreams were plagued with the violent images of his past, causing him to thrash and toss in his sleep, waking up sweaty and breathless. But last night, he slept next to you. Your warmth and presence draped over him provided a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time he could remember since coming back, Javi actually slept. When he woke up Monday morning to the sound of his alarm, he so desperately wished to have rolled over and found you, to wrap himself around you and ground himself. To smell the warm and fruity scent of your hair, to kiss your soft skin, to take in every detail about how your body seemed to impossibly take up every corner of the bed, despite your small stature. This morning, Javi had to settle for the emptiness of his childhood bedroom, begrudgingly preparing himself for the very long 4 days ahead of him until he could see you again. 

He got out of bed, following his usual routine of brushing his teeth, shaving and showering, the emptiness of his bathroom making him wish you were there to serenade him with your cute sing-alongs as you both got ready. 

After he was dressed, he headed out into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee and sit on the back porch, overlooking their acres of farmland and the impending sunrise. During Javi’s time away, Chucho had hired help at the ranch, now relieving Javi of having to get up at some God awful hour to feed animals or move cows from one pasture to another. Even in his older age, it didn’t stop his father from getting up every morning at 4:25 AM to make sure things stayed running smoothly on the ranch. Normally, he and his father’s morning schedules didn’t overlap, sometimes getting the occasional good morning in passing as they headed to their prospective jobs. This morning, Javi had to check his watch to make sure he wasn’t late for work, realizing his Dad had finished his morning chores almost a half hour early. He must have seen that Javi’s car finally made its way back to the driveway when he got up. Javi knew his dad would confront him about the weekend at some point, he just didn’t think it was going to be at 6:27 this morning. 

Chucho walked up the steps of the back porch, sitting down next to Javi on the top step. “Morning, Pops.” Javi took a sip of his coffee. 

“Glad to see you made it back. I was getting close to sending a search party out for you, Hijo.” He chuckled, seeing that Javi’s face was already starting to get red. “Seems like it must have been a good weekend then, huh?” 

“Yeah, it was uh, it was a really good weekend.” 

“Good. I’m glad, son. The way I watched you smile on Saturday… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you like that.” 

“Yeah. She makes me really happy, Pop.” He reached down for another sip of his coffee, Chucho keeping quiet, in hopes to get more out of him. “I uh, I asked her to be my girlfriend. I know it seems really fast but… I don’t know, Dad. There’s something about her. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before.” 

Chucho placed his hand on Javi’s shoulder. “Sometimes Mijo, you just know.” Javi shifted his gaze from his reflection in his coffee mug to the soft smile of his father. In that moment, it was like a weight had been lifted off of Javi’s shoulders. He couldn’t quite describe what it was. Was it the fact that he could tell how happy his dad was for him? That he had found someone who liked him for who he was? That it wasn’t too late to prove he deserved the life he wanted before he left for Colombia all those years ago? 

“Thanks, Pops. She’s special.” 

“I can tell she is, Javier. I’d love to meet her sometime.” 

“She already told me she wants to come and meet the animals. Tried to buy a bag of carrots when we went grocery shopping so she could make sure the horses liked her.” They both laughed to themselves. 

“That was how I got su mamá to come to the ranch for the first time. She told me I was fine, but los animales were the only reason she really wanted to come over. It all seemed to work out okay.” Chucho patted Javier on the shoulder, before grunting as he stood up. “You going to see her again soon?” 

“Thursday. Taking her out to celebrate her last day of school.” 

Chucho smilied. “Ah, yes. No me hables hasta los niños estan libres. (Don't talk to me until the children are free). I’m happy for you, Javier. All me and your mamá ever wanted for you was that.” 

Chucho huffed as he took a step on to the deck and walked his way into the house. Javi smiled to himself, repeating his fathers words in his head. 

Sometimes, you just know. 

You knew Monday was going to suck. It was inevitable. It had been so long since you had slept in the same bed with someone, after just one night of being with Javi, you found yourself tossing and turning, craving his body in your bed. To top off your not so great night’s sleep, you realized you had forgotten to set your alarm, made no food for your lunch, and hadn’t set your coffee to brew for when you woke up. Scrambling, you started a pot and threw whatever lunch-like items you could find into your lunch box, hoping that maybe you would have the appetite for one of them later. Not having enough time to shower, you threw your hair up in a bun, found a dress (since it was easier than having to pick out a top and bottoms), grabbed your things and raced down to your car. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much you had to prep when you got in- there wasn’t planned since it was the last week of school. But, you did have to have your room packed for summer cleaning before Thursday. You were planning on doing the majority of it on Thursday afternoon since the kids had a half day in the morning, but knowing you had plans with a very handsome someone later on that night, you were trying to get as much done as possible. 

Just as you assumed, your room was in absolute chaos as your students entered, like they could feel it in their bones that summer was almost here. You couldn’t have been more thankful to have music and gym this morning, sending the kids on their way shortly after they arrived, leaving you alone again with the sweet sound of silence in your room. Well, at least for a few minutes. 

Knock, knock, knock 

You had closed your door on purpose, hoping it would give the hint that you didn’t want people to come talk to you during your planning time, but the door meant absolutely nothing to the 3 ladies peeking in through your window, frantically ushering you to come open it for them. You should have known it was going to happen. 

“Hola, mijaaaaaaa.” Estelle greeting you with a smirking smile. The other two ladies snickered behind her. 

“Hi, you guys.” You responded as they made yourself at home at the large table you had at the front of your room. 

“Sooooo, how was the rest of your weekend?” Linda asked, raising her eyebrows at you. 

“It was good.” You responded, at least trying to make them work a little harder before you shared your news with them. 

“Cut to the chase, Mija. What happened with you and Javier?! We are dying to know. I tried to call, but Chucho is too good of a man to gossip with us, so we have been left high and dry since Saturday night.” Of course Maria would have no problem not beating around the bush to get the answers they needed. 

“We spent the rest of the weekend hanging out together. He offered to run errands with me on Sunday and we watched a movie before he left to go home last night. We had a really good time.” 

“How good of a time? There’s a very large gap between you leaving on Saturday and going shopping on Sunday.” Maria was invested in you two like a weeknight telenovela. The other two ladies shot her glaring looks, knowing she was the only one bold enough to ask the question. 

“Maria! Considering we’re inside an elementary school right now, I’m keeping it PG. We had a lot of fun, that’s all I will say.” 

“Fine, fine, fine.” 

You paused for a moment, blushing before dropping the next bit of information. “He um, he asked me to be his girlfriend too.” 

You blushed as the women shrieked in delight at the news. “No puedo creerlo!” (I can’t believe it) Estelle screeched. “Digame (tell me), how did it happen?” 

You knew they were about to have a field day with your answer. “Well, um, it actually kind of happened because of Lorriane.” 

Their faces went stone cold. They began whispering to each other in frantic Spanish. 

“Esa mujer está un punta loco…” (That woman is a crazy bitch…)

“Yo se, Maria, dèjala hablar!” (I know Maria, let the girl talk!) 

“Quiero saber qué pasó, shhh!” (I want to know what happened, shhh!) 

“Well, um, we were out shopping for a birthday present for my niece. Her and her family ended up being in front of us in line when we went to check out and she realized Javi was behind her. She asked who I was and before I could answer for myself, he introduced me as his girlfriend. She’s um… something.” 

The women paused before saying anything else. 

“Javi told me about what happened with them, don’t worry.” 

“If she said anything to you, mija, don’t let it bother you. That woman is ruthless.” 

“I know, I kinda picked that up after talking to her.” You grimaced your face. “But I guess I owe her a thank you because it really speeded up the whole him asking me out thing!” The ladies smiled again, recognizing your genuine happiness when talking about Javi. 

“We are so happy for you, mija. Really, you both deserve each other.” Linda chimed in. 

“So, are you going to see him again soon?” Estelle asked, prodding for more information. 

“Not until Thursday. He’s taking me out to celebrate the last day of school, we’re going to dinner and a movie.” 

The ladies swooned. “So sweet mjia. He’s already doing more for you than mí marido (husband) has ever done for me on the last day of school. He just looks at me and tells me he’s glad I’m not grumpy anymore.” 

“Yeah, it was really sweet of him. I’m really excited for it.” 

“Congrats, sweetheart. We really are so happy for you.” 

“Don’t think you’re escaping until August to give us an update. We know Chucho, his papá, will keep us up to speed.” Maria winked as the ladies started to get up out of their seats. “Well now that we know you have a busy day coming up, we’ll let you get back to packing.”

The ladies were almost out the door when Maria popped her head back in. “You tell Javi I’ll make good on my promise to him. He breaks your heart, I will run him over with his father’s tractor.” You snorted, picturing the tiny woman rage driving a heavy piece of machinery.  

“I wouldn’t put it past you Maria.” 

She smiled as she closed the door behind her. You stared around the contents of your room before picking up another box. You better pick up your packing speed. 

You practically collapsed as you opened the door to your apartment. Today had been a LONG day. You left for work at 7:00 AM, and were now finally returning home to your apartment at 7:50 PM. Whoever decided to cram every single end of the year activity into the last week of school needed to be seriously evaluated. Yesterday was the annual teachers vs. 5th graders kickball game as a way to celebrate before they were off to middle school, and tonight was the school music concert. The thought of having to go to the Alma Pierce Carnival tomorrow made you want to cry in exhaustion. Only two more days until Thursday. 

You disregarded your usual routine of neatly putting all of your things in their rightful home before doing anything else, opting to drop everything by the door in a pile and crawl your way to take a shower. Stripping your clothes and throwing them in the hamper, you turned on the shower and cranked up the heat. Waiting for the water to warm, you looked at Javi’s toothbrush, still sitting next to yours in the cup on your sink. Now finally having a second for your brain to turn off of school mode, the sight of Javi’s toothbrush flooded you with three different feelings all at once. 

You missed him like crazy 

You couldn’t wait to see what he had planned for Thursday 

You were hornier than a middle school boy on the brink of puberty 

After going so long without sex (at most, it had been 5 times in the past 2 plus years), you had almost written it off as an afterthought. That was until Saturday, when Javier Peña causally decided to blow your mind with the best sex of your entire life, on repeat. As you stepped into the shower, you pictured where Javi stood only a few days ago, his tanned, muscular, very naked body soaping you up in your favorite body wash. You spent the rest of your shower wishing he was the one scrubbing the shampoo and conditioner into your hair, imagining his hands would eventually travel out of your hair to somewhere else. 

You wrapped yourself up in your towel after emerging out of the shower, the sight of his toothbrush once again only making the ache between your legs more and more present. God, how bad did you have it that even his freakin’ toothbrush was making you horny?! Stupid magic hands and magic dick. 

As you went into your bedroom, you shuffled through the very back of your nightstand. Patting your hand around the back right corner you found what you were looking for.  Please let this thing be charged, it hasn’t even been used in god knows how long, you hoped, pulling the small bullet vibrator out of your drawer. Holding down the power button, you were relieved to hear the low hum vibrating in your hand. You laid down on your bed, head propped up on the pillows as you brought the vibrator between your legs. Running it up and down your clit, you could feel how wet you already were, wishing Javi was the one rubbing his thumb against your sensitive nerves, his thick fingers pressing inside you as- 

Ringggggg, ringggggg, ringggggg 

The phone ringing startled you so badly, you practically flung your vibrator across the room. Breathing heavily, you wrapped yourself back up in your towel and ran to the phone. Considering you and your mom always talked on Wednesdays and your brothers didn’t call unless you called them, it left one probable answer of who it could be. You tried to compose yourself as the phone rang a few more times, beet red and sweating from embarrassment that the person probably calling you was the one you were just thinking about with a vibrator between your legs. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Osita.” The low, sweet voice made your heart sing. 

“It’s good to hear your voice again. I missed you.” 

“Missed yours too. Sorry you didn’t call yesterday, Pops needed extra help after I got home from work yesterday. Are- are you okay?” 

“Me? Yeah, why?” You obviously weren’t doing a very good job of hiding how flustered you were. 

“You just… you sound like you’re out of breath?” 

“Oh, yeah, I um, I just got out of the shower.” It wasn’t a lie.

“You’re out of breath from getting out of the shower?” The thought of you wet and naked made Javi’s cock twitch. 

“No, well, um, not exactly.” You were glad Javi couldn’t see you from the other end of the phone as you facepalmed yourself, jumbling over your words. 

“What’s goin’ on Osita?” Javi spoke with a sneaking suspicion. He didn’t want to assume what he was thinking, but given what he had done to relieve himself in his shower earlier this morning, he couldn’t help but hope you had been just as riled up as he was. 

You let out an audible sigh. Before you could try and come up with an answer, Javi spoke again. 

“Osita, it’s okay. You can tell me.” You couldn’t even see him, but even picturing his sweet, brown, puppy dog eyes was enough to make you spill your secrets in an instant. God, could this man read your mind?! 

“Well, I don’t know, it’s dumb. I- I was in the shower and I was thinking about Sunday morning.” 

“And?” You could practically hear his smirk through the phone. 

“And I was thinking about you, in there, with me. How much I wished you were there” 

Javi had to bite down on his lip from letting out an audible groan. “I wish I was there too, baby. What else were you thinking about?” 

“How much I missed your hands. How much I wished they were touching me.” 

Bingo. There it was.

Javi dipped another toe into the water, getting the green light on his suspicions. “Yeah? Wished I was touching you? Were you touching yourself, baby? Thinking about me?” 

Your face was so flushed. You were already mentally making space on your gravestone for “Magic, sexy words” under dick and hands. “Yeah, I was.” You paused for a moment, feeling completely un-confident in yourself. “Sorry, this is so embarrassing, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” 

“Baby, it’s not embarrassing, I promise. It’s fucking sexy, is what it is. I can’t stop thinking about this weekend either, Osita. Came so hard this morning thinking about you sucking my dick in the shower. Fuck, I wish it would have been you instead of my fuckin’ hand.” 

Oh shit. Were you about to do this?  

“Javi, I- fuck, I’ve never done this before, like, had phone sex.” The innocence in your voice had him hard as a rock. He knew for a fact after this weekend, you were not shy about sex. Fuck, you were the one that came on to him first. But the thought of you sitting in your bed, hand between your legs picturing him? That pushed him over the edge. 

“It’s okay, baby, we don’t have to if you-“ 

“No, I do. Fuck, I’m so horny for you.” 

“ Dirty fuckin’ girl. Take off your clothes, baby.” 

“Lucky for you, I’m fresh out the shower and already not wearing any.” Your little giggle on the other end had him palming at his jeans. He quickly got up to double check his door was locked, thanking whatever higher power was up there that his dad was still out working. 

“Go lie down on your bed for me.” Grabbing your phone, you brought it to your room, and sat propped up against your pillows. 

“O-Okay, now what?” He could tell you were still nervous, a stark contrast from the confident and bold woman he usually saw.

“Relax, baby. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. You trust me?” 

“Yeah. I do.” He knew you meant it. 

“Okay, hermosa. Tell me how you’d want me baby. Tell me what you’d want me to do to you if I was there.” The low rasp of his voice through the phone had you shuttering. 

“Fuck. I’d want you to kiss down my neck. Kiss every fucking inch of me.” The words began to spill out of you. “I’d want you to touch me. Put your fingers in me. Your hands are so big, they feel so good.” 

“Touch yourself, Osita. Feel how fucking wet you are for me.” You set the phone next to you, pressing the speaker button, freeing both your hands. Slowly, you dipped a finger inside you, diving in and out of your entrance, the other hand slowly rubbing over your clit. It felt like nothing compared to Javi’s hands, slowly adding a second finger inside you to imitate the pleasure he had given you this weekend. He could hear your soft moans through the other end of the phone, causing him to undo his belt, and slide his pants down far enough he could free his aching cock, already hard from your sounds alone. 

“It feels so good, Javi. Fuck I wish it was you inside me.” 

He spit on his hand as he began stroking himself, nestling his phone between his chin and his shoulder. His breathy groans traveled through the phone. 

“You touching yourself too?” 

“Fuck, hermosa. The thought of you touching yourself has me so fucking hard. Yeah, baby, I am.” 

“I wish I could suck your dick like I did on Sunday. You tasted so good, loved feeling you down my throat.” 

“Wish I could taste you too. Pussy tastes so fucking sweet. Fuck, I’d spend hours in between your legs making you scream my name as many times as I could.” 

That was an offer you would definitely take him up on. 

The pace of both your hands became more rapid, both of you so worked up from your conversation. 

“Fuck. Javi, I want you to fuck me so bad. Your dick feels so good.” 

“Want me to fuck you, hermosa? Want me to bend you over, fuck you over your dresser so you can watch in your mirror how fuckin’ gorgeous you are when I make you come? Watch your pretty face when I fuck you full of me?” 

Yes please. 

Javi’s words had you losing your mind, the rubbing of your clit getting faster and faster, the wet  sounds of your fingers in and out of your pussy filling the room. If you weren’t close before, the image that Javi had just planted in your head had you right on the edge.

“Javi- holy shit, fuck fuck, baby, I’m gonna-” the whimpers of your orgasm had Javi groaning, his hand wrapping tighter around his cock, imagining it was your cunt clenching down on him as you came. 

“Such a good fucking girl, Osita. Fuck baby, I’m gonna come too.” Over your panting, you heard Javi muttering your name as he climaxed, the both of you breathing heavily. 

There was silence for a few moments before you spoke. 

“Javi, holy shit.” You laughed, shocked and thrilled by what you two had just done. 

“Jesus Christ, Osita, I was just trying to call and ask about Thursday but this was a lot fucking better.” His voice still breathy, coming down from his high. 

“Well I still wanna talk about Thursday, it’s the only thing getting me through this week, although this was helpful, to say the least.” 

“Believe me, me too. Lemme just clean myself up really quick. Be right back.” 

There was a grin across your face so wide, it hurt your cheeks. You waited patiently on the other end, Javi quickly coming back. 

“You still there, Osita?”  

“Yes sir.” You replied in an obnoxious voice. 

“Weirdo.” 

“Oh shhh, you love it.” 

Fuck. There it was again. That stupid word. He knew you didn’t mean anything by it right? Did you mean anything by it? Even if you did, there’s no way in hell you’d admit that to yourself so soon. Right? You frantically responded before he could say anything. 

“Anyways, sorry for my incredibly horny tangent, what are you thinking for Thursday?” 

“All good, hermosa, well worth it. What time are you done with work on Thursday?” 

“I’ll probably be home at 4:15? The kids are only there in the morning so I just have to finish packing up my room and then I can go!” 

“Can I pick you up around 5:30? I was gonna make dinner reservations at 6:00.” 

“Do I get to ask what dinner is?” 

“You don’t do well with surprises, do you?” He chuckled. 

“How’d you guess?” 

“Just had a feeling. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.” 

“No, I won’t ruin the surprise, that’s no fun. I was gonna let you have full reign on the movie we go see. You made a fantastic pick on Sunday, figured it would be fun for you to pick again.” 

“Do you want that to be a surprise too?” 

“Absolutely. I trust you.” He smiled, the phrase you had already used twice making his heart skip a beat. There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his voice a little more nervous than before. 

“Is it uh, okay if I bring stuff to spend the night? That way I can just go in to work from your place?” 

You bit down on your lip to try and contain your excitement. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.” 

“Me too.” In the background of Javi’s phone, you could hear a faint voice in the distance yelling out to him. Holding his hand over the receiver, you heard him faintly yell “What, Pops? I’m on the phone.” Followed by a muffled, “stupid fucking horse…” 

“Hey Osita?” His voice once again full volume, trying to restrain his annoyance. “I’m really sorry, I have to go. My dad just came in and told me one of the horses got out again and it's a two man job to wrangle him back in.” 

“It’s okay, have fun horse wrangling, I hope he isn’t too much of a pain in the butt.” You giggled, imagining how grumpy Javi would look trying to fight with this horse. 

“Símon is the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met.” 

“Glad someone else gets to take the title besides me. I’ll make sure to give him extra carrots when I meet him.” 

“Won’t do you any good, bastard hates everyone. I’ll see you on Thursday, Osita.” 

“Bye Javi, see you on Thursday.” 

“Bye.” 

The line on the other end clicked, leaving you laying on your bed and smiling at your ceiling. You rolled over, now facing the dresser and mirror on the other side of your room, the image of Javi’s filthy words from earlier seeping into your brain. You would never look at your dresser the same. Thursday couldn’t come fast enough. 

Javi had never really been nervous when it came to women. Even from a young age, he was confident in himself and his abilities to flirt, pick up girls, and show them a good time. Hell, half his reputation from his time in the DEA was trying to put the moves on any halfway decent looking woman as a way to fight the tension and stress of his job. Javier Peña knew he had a way with women. What absolutely terrified him, was trying to date one. Regretfully, Javi didn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many women he had slept with over the years. He could, however, count how many women he had dated on one hand, and only needed 2 fingers. Lorraine Doogan, and you. He’d taken women on dates- the occasional movie, dinner, drinks at the bar, but the idea of dating someone with the hope to keep them around for as long as he could? That scared the shit out of him. 

Javi had been a nervous mess all of Thursday. He called to double check your reservation time at dinner, made sure he had an outfit to change into in his car, and spent way longer than usual getting ready this morning. The thing was, Javi knew you liked him. Fuck, you were his girlfriend. But this wasn’t hanging out at your apartment like you had done this weekend, he wanted to do something special for you to show how much he really cared.

Around 12:30, he found his co-workers sitting around their desks chatting and eating lunch when Javi stopped by, taking a break from his morning of doing nothing, too distracted by tonight to focus. 

“Hey, just so you idiots know, I gotta head out early today. Carter, can you finish up that Guadalajara report and give it to Morris before you leave?” Javi came out of his office to see Agent Miller and Carter staring at him with confusion, their mouths still half full of food. Javi never once had left early in the time that he had worked there. If anything, he was there after everyone had left. Ever since last week, Carter and Miller had noticed that Javier had been in a surprisingly better mood than normal. They had seen him smile, not once but multiple times, and had even said good morning to both of them, several days in a row. 

“Uh, yeah, sure Peña. Where ya going? Gotta hot date?” Carter meant it as a joke, but Javi’s lack of witty response and embarrassment on his face left him with an open door to ask the question.

 “Holy shit, you gotta date don’t you?!” 

Javi didn’t say anything, just ran his hand over the bridge of his nose. 

“He’s gotta fuckin’ date tonight, Carter!” Miller responded, outstretching his hand to high-five Javi. “My man!” Javi glared at the hand held high towards him before Miller quickly got the hint to get it out of his face. 

Javi let out a deep breath. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell people about you. He really did. He was so happy you were his. He just knew that these two buffoons were about to give him ten pounds of shit when they found out you were the person he was going on a date with. “Yeah, I’m going on a fucking date, okay? Happy?” 

“Shit, no wonder you’ve been in such a good mood for the past week, Peña. Who is it? How’d you meet her?” Carter stretched back in his chair, completely invested in any information Javi was willing to share. More silence. Javi put his hands on his hips and let out another deep breath. Before he could get out any words, it was like the gears had been turning and a lightbulb had gone off in Miller’s brain, filling him with absolute glee. 

“Carter… you said Peña’s been in a good mood for what now, a week?” Miller smirked. 

“Yeah, why?” Clearly, he was not catching on. 

“How long ago did he go in to do the presentation at the elementary school?” Miller’s grin widening, hoping it wouldn’t take Carter too much longer for him to understand his question. 

“Fuck, I don’t know, like a week ago-” He paused before his face lit up, even giddier than Miller’s. “OH SHIT. IT’S THE HOT TEACHER ISN’T IT?! YOU LUCKY SON OF A BITCH.” Miller and Carter were now playfully swatting at each other in shock over the news. 

There was no point in trying to deny it. Javi figured he might as well bite the bullet on this one. 

“Yeah, it is. Again, she’s got a fuckin’ name okay?” 

“I can’t believe it. Damn, she must really like you, Peña. The other teachers practically chased us away when we went to try and talk to her.” While he hated the thought of his idiot co-workers harassing you week after week, it did fill him with a little pride knowing he was the only one you were ever interested in. 

“You dirty dog. This the first time you’re seeing her since then?” 

Javi met every question with more silence. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to disclose any information to them, but their persistence in getting you to Alma Pierce last Wednesday was the reason you found yourself in this situation. 

“No way. You’ve already seen her already, haven’t you? And she still wants to see you again? Damn. Good for you, Peña.” 

“So what are you two doing for this date tonight? Besides hopefully getting laid?” Carter and Miller high-fived each other. 

Was that part of Javi’s plan tonight? Absolutely. He wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t walk, and once he was done, he wanted to do it again. But the jealous and possessive part of his brain lit up hearing other people talk about you in that way. 

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that or I will snap both your fucking necks, understood?” Javi’s voice was stern and commanding, making Carter and Miller rapidly nod their heads in unison, knowing that if Javi really wanted to, he would. 

“Understood man.” 

“Yeah, sorry.” 

The two men stared sheepishly at each other. Javi took another deep breath before composing himself and focusing his gaze back on Carter. 

“Guadalajara report on Morris’s desk by the time I get in tomorrow, got it?” 

“Will do, boss.” Carter barely made eye contact with him. Javi nodded before turning around, heading back into his office and closing the door. 

Peeking his head around the corner to make sure Javi’s door was all the way shut, Miller leaned back over to Carter for one last remark. 

“They’ve gotta be fucking already, right?” 

“Oh yeah. That’s the face of a man who’s happy and gettin’ laid.” 

“Lucky bastard.” 

“You can say that again.” 

You were shocked at how smoothly your Thursday was going. Your class had lots of fun at their class party, showering you with plenty of hugs and goodbyes on their last day. With your efficiency and determination to pack up your classroom, everything was labeled and put away by 2:45, leaving you with plenty of time to say goodbye to your co-workers before heading out early. 

Remembering Saturday’s disaster of trying to pick out an outfit, you had spent the whole week trying on potential choices to not leave yourself a frantic mess today. You had settled on a peach colored dress with small white flowers, having a feeling that Javi would like it just as much as the one you wore on Saturday. You had plenty of time to get ready, taking more time than usual to do your hair and makeup and try on your outfit one last time. By the time you were all ready to go, it still wasn’t even 5 yet, leaving you with enough time to do a brief clean (even though you had made your apartment spotless enough it would have passed a health inspection test) and turn on SportsCenter for a little as you anxiously awaited Javi’s arrival.  

At 5:25, you heard a knock at your door, practically sprinting up off the couch to greet him. As you opened your door, his tall, handsome frame filled the doorway. He was in a navy blue button down, its short sleeves fitting deliciously over his biceps, with a pair of tight, dark washed jeans. In his hands, he held a bouquet of sunflowers, but looked like he was practically about to drop them when he saw you answer the door. 

“Osita, you look… beautiful.” His jaw was already half slack as his eyes ran their way up and down your frame, taking in every detail about you. 

“Thanks, Javi. You don’t look half bad yourself. You blushed as you tried to contain your grin. 

“These are for you.” He outstretched his hand, passing the bright yellow flowers over to you. 

“Phew, thank god, I was worried that you just wanted to carry them around all night for fun. Thank you, Javi. They’re beautiful.” Carefully placing them on your entryway table. You stared up at Javi, his lip darting around his bottom lip, practically undressing you with his eyes. You grabbed him by his shirt collar, pulling him through the doorway, your mouths meeting in an electric kiss. He reached down to grab behind your head, pulling you closer into him his tongue danced along your open mouth. God, you had missed him. The scent of his cologne and minty breath overwhelmed your senses, as you leaned further into him, his other arm wrapping around your waist as he reluctantly pulled back from your kiss. 

“Wow. Definitely missed that.” You smiled up at him, your heart pounding as you caught your breath. 

“Fuck, me too. I missed you, Osita.” His sweet brown eyes stared down at you, a smile growing under his mustache. 

This man had been in your presence for less than a minute, and you could already feel an ache growing between your legs. His kiss had you begging for more. 

“What time is it? You said our reservation is at 6:00, right?” You asked, glancing down at Javi’s watch as you bit down on your lip and reached up to give him a kiss on his neck. It was clear to both of you why you had asked the question. You knew how riled up you both were given the phone call you had just 2 days before, and having gone 5 days without him, you were really holding it together to not jump all over him.  

“Hermosa… Fuck. I can’t believe I’m gonna say this.” He took a step back from you, causing you to cross your arms and raise an eyebrow. “Baby, if we don’t leave your apartment now, we’re not fucking leaving. I meant what I said on the phone. Osita, I’ve spent every goddamn day this week thinking about this, but I really want to take you out to celebrate, you deserve it.” 

It took every ounce of you not to protest. He looked so good that you would have fucked him right there on the floor next to your shoe rack. But he was right, he had worked so hard to plan whatever you two were doing tonight. He cared about you. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were worth celebrating. No one had ever cared about you this much. 

“You’re really sweet, Jav. Thank you. Although with how fucking hot you look and the fact that you pretty much eye fucked me from the moment you walked through the door, this is about to be a a battle of iron wills, and right now my will power is about the strength of a limp noodle.” You both laughed, trying to regain your composure. Smirking, you looked at him to give him a proposition. 

“I bet you 5 dollars.” 

“You bet me 5 dollars, that what, Osita?” He chuckled, shaking his head at you. 

“I bet you 5 dollars that you break before I do. I don’t think you can make it through the night. Not with the way your eyes are still trying to undress me.” 

“You sure? You were the one practically crawling all over me as soon as I walked through the door.” He crossed his arms to mirror yours, enjoying the prospect of your competition. 

“I may be stubborn, but I got all the patience in the world, Peña. And I don’t like to lose.” You shrugged and winked at him, giving a playful raise of your eyebrows. 

You drove him absolutely fucking crazy. 

Leaning down, he pulled you in to kiss you again, even more intense than the one you had just shared. Your tongues and teeth clashed, making you moan between your connected mouths, before suddenly pulling away and grabbing his keys, dangling them in your breathless face. 

He looked at you with a devilish grin. “You’re on baby. You ready to go?” 

“What?! That’s not fair, you can’t just kiss me like that and expect me to function normally!” 

“Never said it wasn’t part of the rules. Two can play at this game.” He leaned back down into your ear, his mustache tickling your neck as the low rasp of his voice serenaded you. “Besides, Osita, like you said, you have all the patience in the world, right?” 

“Javier I don’t know your middle name Peña, I swear to God, you really are trying to kill me.” You both laughed as you grabbed your purse and began to put on your shoes. 

“Jesús. Javier Jesús Peña. 

Something about him saying his name made you smile. Maybe it’s because his name was yours. “Cute. Good to know, in case of emergencies, such as times like these. Alright, I’m ready, and I’m making space in my wallet to be 5 dollars richer tonight.” 

As Javi opened his passenger side car door for you, you basked in the warm familiarity of sitting next to him while he drove. While his car was already neat, you could tell he must have gone through and cleaned in since Sunday. After he backed out of your apartment’s parking lot and you two headed on your way, his free hand almost immediately found its way to the skin of your thigh exposed under your dress, giving it a slight squeeze before tracing his fingers up and down your leg. 

“Music?” He looked at you, smiling, reminiscing on your last drives’ sing a long. 

“You don’t just want to listen to the Grease Soundtrack on repeat every time we drive?” You giggled as you reached into his glove box, shuffling back through the CD’s, noticing a new one that definitely wasn’t there this weekend. You quickly pulled it out, showing it to Javi. 

“This one wasn’t here on Sunday?” You looked surprised by the Queen’s Greatest Hits disc you now had in your hand. 

“Oh yeah, well you said they were your favorite band. I don’t know a ton of music by them, but figured you may want to listen to them if we’re driving.” He tried to play it off casually. You didn’t need to know that he drove to not one, but two stores after work this week to find that CD for you. 

“Wait did you- Did you get this just for me?” Your surprise was so genuine. Not only did he care enough to even remember your favorite band, he went out and got you a CD so you could listen to it in his car while you drove together? You couldn’t have been more thankful to have been stopped at a red light as you leaned over the center console, grabbing the side of his face to pull him in for a kiss. You only released him as you watch your peripheral vision turn from red to green. You both pulled back with smiles on your faces, Javi putting an even tighter grasp around your leg. 

“Play it. You’re in charge of music tonight, Osita.” 

“Figured you needed to let me be in charge of at least something, huh?” You rolled your eyes and snickered under your breath as you pushed the CD in and pressed play, the beat of Another One Bites the Dust thumping through the speakers 

“This song is dedicated to you after you lose our bet tonight.” 

“You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t like to lose, huh Osita? 

“I will admit being overly competitive is one of my biggest character flaws. Growing up with 3 older brothers who all played sports will do that to ya. I always wanted to play with them, and they wouldn’t let me play unless I proved I was good enough, so instead of crying about it, I just practiced to try and make myself better than them.” 

Javi couldn’t have been less surprised. Given your stubbornness, there were few things he’d put past you.

 “Did you play any sports as a kid?” You asked curiously. 

“I did swimming and some baseball. Always liked swimming more. Parents would call me el pez. (fish) They would always tell me that they’d have to drag me out of the water whenever we went to the pool or beach. Swam in college a little too, but was never super serious about it. What about you? I’m gonna assume yes.” 

“My brothers played everything, so yes, I’ve pretty much tried every sport under the sun at some point. Hockey was always my favorite though.” 

“I’m gonna be real honest with you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hockey game in my entire life.” 

“That’s criminal. Well considering you’re from southern Texas, it makes sense that a game involving ice isn’t very popular. Did you know Texas has an NHL team?” 

“Wait, actually?” 

“Yeah, actually. I don’t think anyone in Texas knows you do. The Dallas Stars. They were actually pretty good this year. Lost in the first round of the playoffs like the Blackhawks did, so now my only hope is that the Red Wings lose but it physically hurts me to say that I think they’re gonna win it all this year.” 

Javi nodded, trying his best to follow along even though he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. Embarrassed with your rambling, you quickly retracted. “Sorry, I know you don’t really care about any of that.” 

“You care about it, which means I’ll try my best to learn, Ostia.” 

Your eyes shifted up from your lap where they had been staring to meet Javi’s gaze, soft and genuine. It shouldn’t have surprised you, but the feeling of knowing he actually cared never ceased to amaze you.

“Okay. All you need to know for the sake of this conversation is Blackhawks- good, Red Wings- bad.” 

“Easy enough. I can remember that.” He winked at you before reaching to grab your hand and lock it with his. 

You spent the last few minutes of your car ride in a comforting silence, Queen quietly playing in the background as you watched the sky slowly melt into a pink and orange sunset. 

As you pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, you looked at the sign above the entrance reading “Andiamos on Main.” You’d never been here before, but you felt like the name sounded familiar from hearing your co-workers who had gone on anniversaries, birthday dinners or big events to celebrate. 

“Javi, this place is supposed to be really nice.” 

“I know.” 

“Like, people come here for birthdays and anniversaries and special things that only happen once a year.” 

“You only finish school once a year, too. You’re special to me, Osita. You deserve it.” 

“But I-"

“I’m not letting you argue with me on this one, baby. Please.” 

As much as you wanted to, how could you argue with his sweet face, staring at you with his pleading brown eyes? You would have been thankful for him to have gotten you sandwiches again, let alone take you somewhere nice and insist you deserve it. 

“Fine. Thank you, Javi. This is the nicest thing someone has done for me in a long time.” 

“You deserve it, Osita. I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.” 

He leaned over to give you a quick kiss before turning off the engine of the car and quickly unbuckling himself so he could walk around the car and open the passenger door for you. 

“Ready to eat?” 

“Javi, there will be very few times in life where that answer will be no.” 

When you walked into the restaurant, your suspicions were confirmed. This place was nice. The space was dimly lit with soft piano playing in the background, filled with other couples and large groups, all dressed nicely and casually chatting. You were surprised how busy the restaurant was as Javi took your hand to lead you through the small crowd in front of the hostess stand. 

“Hi, how can I help you two?” The woman at the front asked as you two approached her.

“Hi, I have a reservation at 6:00. Should be under Peña.” 

“Alright, let me just check real quick and then we’ll get you seated!” You watched as her fingers flicked through the notebook she had in front of her, a concerned look creeping up her face as she began to back track and flip through previous pages. 

“You said Peña at 6:00, tonight, correct?” 

“Mhhmm.” He nodded, also starting to look concerned by her confusion. 

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Peña, it looks like your reservation was for yesterday at 6:00 PM.” 

Javi may have looked worse than he did when you had run into Lorraine a few days ago. “Wait, I uh-, it should be for today. It’s for June 3rd? The 3rd at 6:00 PM?” 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Peña. The 3rd was yesterday. Today is the 4th.” 

You could feel the panic shedding from his body. The hand that was holding yours now started to become sweaty. The look on Javi’s face was sheer terror. “No, today’s the 3rd? Today’s the 3rd, right?” He looked frantically back and forth between you and the hostess before she flipped her notebook around to face you both, accompanied by her digital watch. In scratch writing under June 3rd, sat “Peña, party of 2, 6:00 PM.” And on her watch read “Thursday, June 4th.” 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…”  he muttered himself underneath his breath, trying to keep his composure. “Are there any seats left? Anything at the bar, even?” Part of him already knew the answer, but was desperate to not give up yet. 

“Well, we have a corporate event tonight so it’s extra busy. Right now there’s at least a 2 hour wait, and that’s being generous, and no seating at the bar. Again, so sorry for the confusion.” 

He stood frozen in shock. He wanted to scream at himself. How could he have fucked this up? The guilt and panic flooded over him, leaving him speechless. He tried so hard to rebuttal- think of something, ANYTHING. Stuck in his chaotic train of thought, he felt your hand rub over his arm and heard your sweet voice. 

“That’s okay! Thank you for checking! Mistakes happen, not a big deal at all. Come on, Jav, let’s go!” This time, you were the one leading him back through the crowd, him, following you helplessly, trying to think of anything to say. As you finally exited through the doors, the golden sunset shining down into the parking lot, Javi grabbed down tightly on your hand, stopping in his tracks. 

“Fuck, Osita. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I fucked this up. I could have fucking swore today was the 3rd. I’m such a fucking idiot I-“ 

“Javi.” 

He stopped. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Were you mad? Angry? Going to agree with him and tell him that he was a fucking idiot? He wouldn’t have blamed you if you did. 

“Do you know how many times I took my class to gym on the wrong day when I first started at Alma Pierce?” 

He looked at you blankly. It was almost like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“A lot. It took me a month and a half. I could have sworn they went to gym every Monday from 2:00-3:00, and at 1:55 every Monday, I would March them down to the gym for Mr. Luíz to tell me I had gym tomorrow from 2:00-3:00. It literally took me having to write it on my hand each Monday- don’t go to gym! For me to finally remember. It’s okay, Javi. I know you’re gonna beat yourself up about this. Please, please don’t. The fact that you even wanted to do something this nice for me is more than enough. I don’t care where we go, if I get to spend time with you, then I’m happy.”  

If I’m with you, then I’m happy. The words danced around his brain, trying to make sure he was comprehending what he had just heard. He had completely fucked up your plans and not only did you not care, you were happy? He was the reason you were happy? That was a sentence he was positive he had never heard before. 

You stepped into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you gazed into his eyes, still pooling with panic. “I like you, Javi. I like you a lot. You could have taken me to go get hot dogs from the gas station and I would have been excited. Maybe not excited for what they would have done to me after I ate them, but if I got to do it with you, I wouldn’t have cared.” He let out a small huff under his breath, half a smile creeping across his somber face. “There are plenty of places for us to eat, we still have a movie to go see, and when we get back, I am so horny I think I could spontaneously combust.” It relieved you to see the smile grow wider, a genuine laugh now coming out of him. “Promise me.” 

“Promise you what, Osita?” 

“Promise me you won’t beat yourself up over this.” 

“Baby, I-“ 

“Promise me, Javier Jesús Peña. Or I will beat you up enough for the both of us” you poked your finger into his chest, playfully. 

“Promise.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, savoring the sweet and familiar smell of your shampoo as his nose met your hair. “Going full name on me, huh?” 

“Told you, it was good to know in case of emergencies.” You laughed as he shook you, wrapped in the broadness of his arms. “There’s a diner down the road we passed on the way in, I could definitely eat a whole mess of pancakes right now.” 

“You weren’t kidding when you said you liked breakfast.” 

“I don’t joke when it comes to breakfast, Peña” you winked before you stretched up to peck him on the lips. “Let’s go.” You reached to grab his hand, leading him back to his truck. Trailing behind your lead, he soaked up every ounce of the image of you. An image he’d never get sick of. 

You didn’t even bother looking at the menu as you picked a booth in the back corner of the small diner down the street. Javi ordered a sandwich while you shamelessly ordered a stack of blueberry pancakes with whip cream on top. You could tell Javi was still upset with himself, staying relatively quiet since you two had unexpectedly changed your plans. You had a feeling there wasn’t much you could say at this point that would make him feel any less guilty- you would have felt the same way. Looking for a way to get him out of his head, you pulled out a kids menu and a wrapped pack of crayons tucked behind the condiments at your table, scribbling on it before sliding across the table to Javi. 

“Hangman?” Javi looked at you, chuckling. 

“We don’t have to play if you don’t want to, just thought it could be fun. Figured this was better than me coming across the booth to beat you up because I can tell you’re still mad at yourself.” 

This set off a more genuine laughter from him, shaking his head as he crossed his arms and leaned back in the booth. “I don’t know, Osita, after you told me you used to play hockey, you’ve got me a little nervous that you could take me out.” You both snickered at the idea of you trying to take down Javi. “Sure, let’s play.” 

“P?” He questioned, staring down at the dashed lines. 

“P? That’s what you’re gonna start with?” You drew a circle for the head.

“What’s wrong with P?” 

“Vowels first! Makes it way easier!” 

“Sorry, I don’t think I’ve played hangman since I was in elementary school.” 

“Which is why I’m an expert, seeing that I’m in an elementary school practically every day. Next guess.” 

“E?” 

“See, there you go!” You marked down several spots after Javi’s guess. 

“Okay, how about M?” 

“That doesn’t mean stop guessing vowels, dummy. But yes, lucky for you there is an M.” You laughed as Javi continued guessing letters and began eating as your food arrived. Through a bite full of your pancakes you gave Javi a dumbfounded look. 

“Javi… you seriously don’t know what it says? You can go hunt down drug lords in South America but hangman on a kids menu at a diner is what’s gonna do you in?” You both snorted as Javi tried to defend himself. 

“Osita, those are two completely different things.” 

“Well I’m not gonna lie Javi, one seems significantly easier than the other.” 

“Fine, I’ll guess. What movie are we seeing?” 

“Great work, detective.” You remarked sarcastically. 

“Gimme that.” He said, snatching the paper from you as he began to draw his own lines. “Your turn.” 

“Okay, thank goodness, I was worried we were going to miss the movie with how long it was taking you to guess. I'm starting with A.” 

Javi begrudgingly noted down some letters. You continued guessing, quickly filling up the lines until you had figured out the clue. 

“Oh, Jurassic Park! I’ve been wanting to see that! Have you seen the first one?” 

“Jesus, that was fast. No, but I figured it would be one you’d like. 

“I was secretly hoping you’d pick that one, so one point for you, Javier Peña.” You winked at him as you took a final bite of your pancakes. “I know this wasn’t the dinner you had planned, but it was still really good. And we still have a movie to go see and plenty of movie snacks to eat. You ready to go?” Javi smiled at you, nodding, still in disbelief how content you were with how things were going.

Your waiter came around to collect your plates and give you the bill, Javi insisting on paying, despite your attempt to physically try to open his hand and put cash in it. As you made your way out to the car, you reached down to grab his hand, embracing the familiarity of your fingers interlocking, his grasp engulfing yours. Your drive to the movie theater included several more tracks of Queen sing alongs, Javi’s favorite notably being your enthusiastic rendition of Don’t Stop Me Now. With the windows slightly rolled down, the wind blew through your hair, a smile stretched across your face. You were so wrapped up in singing, you hadn’t noticed Javi’s eyes locked on you, completely enamored by your presence. Part of him just wanted to say fuck it to the movie. Instead, take you back to your apartment, fuck, to have you in his truck and show you how thankful he was for you. 

As you pulled into the movie theater, you noticed that Javi had parked in a far back corner, a sizable walk from the front entrance. Before you could ask anything, his mouth was crashing into yours, running his hand through the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer in. His other hand snaked under the hem of your dress, rubbing along your thigh before reaching under your underwear, his fingers grazing along your entrance.  Your hand mirrored, reaching across to grab his face, before planting kisses along his, working your way up to his ear. As much as you wanted to say nothing, you knew you at least had to tease him a little. You could hear his heavy breaths as you bit at his earlobe and whispered. 

“You owe me 5 dollars.” 

He pulled back, shaking his head, his breathing still labored. “Jesus Christ. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” 

You leaned back in, planting another kiss on his neck before pulling back. “I told you, I don’t lose.” You winked before giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Tell ya what, because I’m such a gracious winner, I’ll donate my 5 dollars towards buying our movie snacks, okay?” 

“Doesn’t that defeat the whole bet?” He laughed at you. 

“Well I needed to find a way to let you get me to buy something on our date so you don’t pay for anything, and I figured you can’t argue with me if I use my winnings from our bet.” 

“Fair enough.” He sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. 

“Thank you. You ready to go watch some dinosaurs?” You nudged him before hopping out of the passenger’s side door. Javi sat there for a moment, regaining his composure before following beside you into the theater, his hand now taking its familiar spot locked in yours. 

Javi couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a movie theater. He hadn’t gone in Colombia, probably making it close to a decade since stepping foot into one. Once Javi had told you how long it had been, you wanted to make sure you did everything you could to make it the best experience possible for him. After getting your tickets, you made your way to concessions, getting much more than your 5 dollar bet’s worth of snacks.

“Do you really think we need this much?” Javi asked, now carrying the frozen Coke and M&M’s you had handed him, you carrying a large popcorn. 

“Well first of all, you haven’t been to the movies in forever, so I want you to get the full movie snacking experience. Second, you ate two full bags of popcorn by yourself when we watched Star Wars, so I’m honestly worried this isn’t enough.” Mentally noting that Javi had already had 3 handfuls of M&M’s on your way to your seats. 

You were thankful that you were able to find two seats in the top middle of the theater, considering how crowded it was. You could feel a shift in his demeanor, like he was uneasy with how many people filled the room, constantly scanning back and forth. It wasn’t that Javi minded crowds, it was what could happen in a crowd if something went wrong that made him anxious. He had seen it first hand, and knew how poorly it could end. He hadn’t been somewhere this crowded in a long time, but with his instincts kicking in to overdrive, he could feel himself starting to panic at his current state. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Uh yeah, um, I’m fine, it’s just, um-“ 

You patted the seat next to you, ushering Javi to sit down. Once he did, you reached over to grab his hand and squeeze it and rest your head on his shoulder. You had seen this happen before with your brothers, especially your oldest, after he returned back from his first tour of active duty. While you could never truly understand how it felt, the last thing you wanted to do was make Javi feel like you weren’t there for him. “It’s okay. It’s more crowded than I would have thought too. We can stay here or if you need to move or go outside for a little we can do that too. Whatever you need.” You could feel a little of his tension ease as he kissed the top of your head. 

“No, I’m okay, thanks, Osita.” He felt a wave of relief wash over him that some way or another, you just seemed to know what he needed to snap him out of his funk.

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything. I promise I’ll keep you safe from the dinosaurs.” You giggled while you looked up at him, Javi giving you a playful shake as he moved his arm to wrap over your shoulder, his thumb stroking back and forth across your skin as the lights lowered and previews started. 

As the movie is played, you found Javi’s hand somewhere on your body at all times. Holding your hand, wrapped around you, rubbing your leg, even playing with your hair as you rested your head against the width of his strong shoulders. The other hand was either in the popcorn or reaching down to eat the rest of the M&M’s. Javi really couldn’t have told you what was happening on screen, his eyes had barely left you, watching every reaction to what was happening. He was soaking in every moment, noticing when you laughed, excitedly poking him when something big happened, trying to fill him in so he wasn’t lost on what was happening. He was surprised when you let out a little shriek and grabbed on to him as one of the dinosaurs popped out on screen, even though you insisted that you weren’t scared, just weren’t expecting it. As the movie ended and credits began rolling, you looked over to already find Javi looking at you.

“So, what’d ya think? Good first movie theater experience?” 

“It was great, Osita.” 

“Good, I’m glad. Enjoy your snacks?” You laughed, looking at how the popcorn and M&M’s were completely gone, the frozen Coke only filled with a few sips worth left. 

“Oh shit, yeah, uh sorry…” realizing that he had pretty much eaten everything, oblivious to everything that wasn’t you. 

“It’s okay. I figured given what happened with the last movie we watched. You haven’t been to the movies in who knows how long, I wanted to make sure you got everything you wanted.” Javi wasn’t sure how you did it, but everything you did and said had him falling harder and harder for you. You were everything he wanted. You hadn’t cared when he fucked up the dinner reservations, you wanted to make sure he had fun at the movies, all you wanted was to be with him. Leaning over, he grabbed your face with both hands, engulfing you in a long, deep kiss. He didn’t care if people stared, in fact, he hoped they did. He hoped they’d see how lucky he was that you were his. 

“Wow. What was that for? Not that I’m complaining or anything.” You smirked, pulling away from his grasp. 

He knew it. He knew he couldn’t say it, but he knew it. He settled for what he could say instead. 

“I really like you, Osita. I like you a lot. Thank you for tonight. I, um… I, just, thank you.” 

“Javi, what are you thanking me for? I should be the one thanking you. You’re the one who wanted to do all of this for me. I really like you too, thank you for making tonight so special.”

Kissing the top of your head, he bent down to whisper in your ear. “Tonight’s not over yet, Osita. This isn’t the only part of our date I’m about to make special for you, baby.” He couldn’t help himself. He had spent the whole movie thinking about sneaking his hands further and further up your dress, how perfect you were, blissed out and moaning his name as he was inside you. 

“Jesus, Javi.” You shook your head, speechless. “I don't know what the hell we’re still doing standing here then. I’ll Tyrannosaurus Rex my way through this crowd for you to get me back home ASAP.” He laughed as you grabbed his hand leading him down the stairs and through the crowded lobby back to his car. 

The sexual tension in his car on the drive home was so thick, you would have needed a chainsaw to cut through it. You had both agreed, unlike Sunday, you would both have enough self control to make it back to your apartment, but with the way Javi was staring at you, and how dangerously close his hands were getting under your dress, the prospect of making it another 10 minutes home seemed practically impossible. When you finally reached the parking lot of your apartment, you practically threw yourself out of the car as you and Javi stumbled up the stairway, bodies crashing into one another as your mouths met furiously, hands frantically roaming over each other's bodies. You had no idea how you were able to get out your key and open your door as Javi’s chest pressed into your back, kissing your neck as your hands shakily unlocked your entrance to your apartment. The moment the door closed behind you, your clothes both quickly were shed, leaving a trail of items to your bedroom. Your bodies banged along the hallway as you shuffled your way to the bedroom, your mouths never leaving one another’s. Javi practically threw you onto your bed before shuffling his boxers down to pool around his ankles, his broad and handsome presence hovering over you. He knelt down to the edge of the bed, nudging your knees apart to reveal your pussy, glistening from its wetness. 

“Fuck, I’ll never get over your pussy, baby. Always so fucking wet.” Javi mewled before breathing in heavily and licking a long, broad strip along your clit. His tongue swirled around your heat as your hips bucked towards his face. One hand grasped your sheets while the other ran through his hair, tugging at the dark, curled ends as you moaned. You wanted him so badly to be inside of you, to fill the emptiness you were clenching around. Before you could ask, he slipped not one, but both fingers into you. His hand felt enormous compared to yours, his fingers so much more satisfying as they hit inside you over and over. As both digits curled up and his mouth sucked over your clit, you whimpered breathlessly. 

“Javi, you feel so good. Fuck me, holy shit.” 

“Patience Hermosa, I will, don’t worry.” He winked before diving back down between your legs. His free hand wrapped around your leg, grabbing your hip as you squirmed from how good he felt. The repetitive motion of his thick fingers plunging in you mixed with the skilled movement of his tongue across your sensitive nub had you already clenching down, close to your end. You knew with how worked up you had been this week without him, and what a goddamn menace he was, it wouldn’t take long for you to be on the verge of screaming his name in pleasure. 

“Baby, fuck, fuck I’m so close, Javi, I-“ 

Before you could finish your sentence, your orgasm flooded through your body, legs shaking and head thrown back as you moaned. The pleasure was so intense, and so much better than you could have even remembered. As you came back down from your high, Javi slowly pulled his fingers out from you before sucking them clean, your juices still smeared across his smirking face. “You taste so fucking good, Osita.” 

“Jesus, Javi… holy shit.” You breathed deeply, trying to regain your composure. He leaned over you, kissing up your body, stopping to take each nipple in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue before making his way up your neck.  

“I told you I meant what I said on the phone, baby. Is that okay with you?” His breath was low and raspy as he whispered into your ear. 

“Yes, oh my god, I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said all week. I haven’t been able to look at my dresser the same since.” You both let out light, airy laughs before Javi had picked you up and carried you over to your dresser before sitting you down on top of it. You spread your legs open, pussy still slick and shining from your last orgasm as Javi spit down into his hand before stroking his dick, already hard and desperate to be inside you. He then helped you shimmy down, smacking your ass as you turned around and placed your arms on the dresser. Looking up at the mirror in front of you, you could see the hungry look in Javi’s eyes as he ran his cock up and down your folds, collecting your slick. He kissed your shoulders as he rubbed his hands down the side of your body, squeezing your hips. “Javi, please.” You whimpered, the throbbing between your legs making it feel like he was taking years. 

“What happened to all that patience, Osita?” He smirked as he grabbed another handful of your ass. You were so desperate at this point your brain was unable to form words, only moans pleading for Javi to give you what you wanted. “So needy, huh? I’ll give you what you want, baby girl, don’t worry..” Slowly, he made his way into you, the sting of the sweet stretch of his cock making you breathless. As he bottomed out inside of you, a low groan from him mimicked yours. “So fucking tight, hermosa, fuck.” 

“Javi, move, please.” You were practically begging at this point. 

“I will, Osita. Look in the mirror first, baby.” Your eyes shifted off of the oak of the dresser under your arms and up to the image of Javi’s body towering behind you. His tanned and toned chest, his dark curls and mustache, the lust pooling in his eyes, Jesus, he really was the hottest man you’ve ever seen. 

“I want you to see how pretty you are when I fuck you. See what a good fucking girl you are when you take me so well, when I fuck you full of me. Can you do that for me?” As your eyes met his in the mirror frantically nodding, he began to move himself in and out of you, taking his time. Almost as if he was savoring how good each thrust felt. Each time he pushed back into you, your gasps became louder, the feeling intensifying. The spot he was hitting was so sweet, but your body was pleading for more. 

“Fuck Javi, give me more, please baby. Fuck me harder.” Your eyes once again locking with his, a delightfully surprised look spreading across his face. 

“Yeah, you want me to fuck you harder, hermosa?” You once again nodded rapidly, biting down on your bottom lip. “Use your words, pretty girl.” He teased, slowing his pace enough to make you squirm. 

“Fuck me harder, Javi. Please baby, you feel so good, I want more.” Javi knew his size was larger than average. He definitely hadn’t been gentle with you, but he hadn’t been overly aggressive, not wanting to push your limits and make you uncomfortable. But right now, he had you in the palm of his hand, begging him for more. 

“You sure you want more, baby?” He slowly began to speed up his thrusts, waiting for your answer. 

“Mhmmmm.” You whined at the ridges of his cock rubbing against your walls. “Give it to me, please.” 

With that, his pace changed drastically, his hips snapping into you repeatedly. You could feel every inch of him stretch you out in a way that you couldn’t describe. The way his dick pounded into, filling you so deeply and intensely had your screams echoing off the walls of the room. 

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, oh my god.” 

“Yeah? Feel good, Osita? My good fucking girl, taking me so well.” 

Suddenly, his arm reached under yours, pulling you up so your back was flushed with his chest. He wrapped his arm over your breasts, his big hand engulfing one while his other hand reached down for your clit. The added pleasure made the building feeling in your stomach creep closer and closer, knowing you were about to snap. His calloused fingertips rubbed back and forth as he leaned into you, his mouth grazing along your neck. “Look at yourself, baby. I know you’re close. I want you to see how pretty you are when you come all over my dick.” Your eyes watched Javi’s hand rub faster along your sensitive bundle of nerves before shifting up to see the damp, dark curls stuck to his forehead, a sheen covering his body in sweat. Each snap of his hips hit harder and harder, you feeling your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock. With only a few more thrusts, you felt something snap inside you, your legs shaking as you moaned Javi’s name as you came. Watching you had Javi reeling, his thrusts becoming more frantic as your eyes met in the mirror before he spoke. 

“Where do you want me, baby?” 

“Inside me. It’s yours Javi. It’s all fucking yours.” 

Your words were all he needed before he took one last pump, spilling inside you. You watched in the mirror as his jaw went slack as his muscles tense. You felt his spend covering your walls, his cock pulsing as he finished. He draped his body over yours, your heavy breathing syncing for a few moments before he pushed himself back up, slowly pulling out of you. You whimpered at the loss, feeling the mix of you running down the side of your leg. Suddenly, you felt Javi’s body press into yours, his arm snaking between your legs as two thick fingers pushed into you, making you gasp. 

“Will you keep me in you, hermosa? So I know you’re all fucking mine?” 

“Yes, Jesus Christ.” You whispered under your breath. He watched you nod as he pushed into you one last time before pulling out his fingers and kissing down your back, chuckling as he pulled away.  

“Nope, just me, Javi. Go lay down on the bed, baby. Let me get something to clean you up.” 

“Oh shut up.” You laughed as you still laid slumped over the dresser. “I would move but I think you fucked me so good my legs don’t work anymore.” He snuck up behind you, picking you up and carrying you over to your bed before plopping you down and heading to the bathroom, leaving you giggling, staring at your ceiling. He returned with a warm washcloth, gently wiping you up before tossing it into your laundry basket and climbing under your covers with you. You scooted close to him, your head resting on his chest, arm draped across and one leg hiked up, resting on top of him. His strong arms wrapped around you, tracing circles along your back as he kissed the top of your head. 

“Thank you, Javi.” 

“For what, Osita?” 

“This was the best date I’ve ever been on.” 

“You must have been on a lot of shitty dates then, Hermosa.” 

“I’m being serious, you goofball! I mean yes, I think before this, the most romantic thing someone had done for me was when Paul actually remembered our anniversary, and then asked me if we could go to his favorite sports bar instead of the nice restaurant I picked because he didn’t want to miss a football game that was on that night. But I’m not kidding, the fact that you wanted to spend time with me, let alone plan something nice, I don’t know… it just really means a lot. So thank you.” 

Javi paused for a moment before he responded. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Happy, relieved even, that you had such a good time on a date that anyone else probably would have deemed a disaster? Thankful that you wanted to spend just as much time with him as he did with you? Heartbroken that there had been one too many idiots who had come in and out of your life that had treated you like shit and you had accepted that was as good as it got? 

“Osita, I said it before and I’ll say it again, you deserve it. You’re beautiful and smart and sexy as hell and even if you won’t admit it, you deserve someone who sees that. I still can’t believe that you think that I’m worth any of your time, but I’m sure as hell glad that you do.” He kissed your head again as you nuzzled it closer to his chest, trying to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. Before you could say anything he finished with, “I sure as fuck hope that I never meet Paul either, cause I’d give that fucking guy a piece of my mind.” 

You let out a small huff as you looked up at him. “Ease up there, cowboy. Don’t worry, I think everyone I know has already given him enough shit to last him 3 lifetimes. You’re really sweet, Jav. Thank you.” You stretched up to plant a soft kiss on his lips as you reached up to cup his face. 

“Of course, baby. I lo-“ He stopped himself as quickly as possible. His brain hadn’t even processed the words that were coming out of his mouth. There was no fucking way he could say it, even if he knew it. He just prayed you hadn’t heard his slip up before he continued. “I really like you, and I’m so glad you had a good time tonight. I did too.” 

“Can I see you again this weekend? I know you have to work tomorrow and we just saw each other today and-“ 

“Yes, Osita. I’d love to see you again this weekend. I promised my dad I’d help him with some things around the ranch tomorrow night and Saturday morning but other than that, I’m all yours.” He leaned down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your neck as you pulled away. 

“Perfect. Can I pick something for us to do since you got to pick what we did today?” 

“Is it a surprise, or do I get to know?” He asked mockingly. 

“If yours got to be a surprise, so does mine. I don’t have anything specific picked out yet, but I have a few ideas.” 

“Can’t wait to see what it is, Osita.” 

You glanced over at your alarm clock, forgetting the fact that you didn’t have to set it again until August, and Javi still had one more day until his weekend. “What time do you usually get up in the morning?” 

“Why?” He asked, fingers still tracing up and down your shoulders. 

“So I can get up with you in the morning and make you breakfast and say goodbye to you before you go to work.” Your fingers mirrored his, circling over his bare chest. 

“Hermosa, it’s your first day of summer, you’re not getting up with me in the morning, you get to sleep in.” 

“What if I want to get up with you in the morning? You gonna force me to stay in bed until you leave?” 

“Fine, I’m not waking you up on purpose, but if you’re awake and want to get up with me I’m not going to say no.” 

“Well then I will see you in the morning, bright and early.”

“Okay, Osita. I’m gonna go run down to my car and grab my bag, are you okay if I leave the door unlocked so you don’t have to let me back in?” 

“Sure. I’ll be right here, unless you’ve pulled off hiding your serial killer act this long and you and the rest of your gang have found the perfect opportunity at this moment.” 

“Dork. I’ll be back up in a few, okay?” 

“Safe travels out there.” 

He laughed as he collected his clothes scattered on the floor trailing down the hallway to put on before heading out the door. You rolled over, inhaling the scent Javi had left behind on your pillow, his space still warm from his body. You pulled your covers further over you, snuggling in closer to the space he just was in. Even without him physically next to you, the feeling of knowing he would be back next to you soon flooded your body with a sense of comfort. Not realizing how tired you were until this moment, you felt your eyelids begin to droop, growing heavier with each blink. You swore to yourself you could stay awake the few minutes Javi would be gone, but by the time he returned back up with his bag, he was greeted with the soft sound of snores filling your bedroom. He set his things down at the end of the bed before turning off the lights and stripping himself of his clothes once again before crawling under the covers, spooning you, wrapping your body in his arms. 

“Dulces sueños, mi amor. Te adoro. Todo es más bonito si estás conmigo. Soy tan afortunado de tenerte” (Sweet dreams, my love. I adore you. Everything is more beautiful when I’m with you. I’m so lucky to have you.) 

He kissed your head as he pulled you in closer. He slowly breathed out, a sense of peace and comfort filling his body. He took one more moment to savor your presence before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep next to you. There were few things in life that Javier Peña had ever been absolutely sure of. You were one of those few things. 

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javi pena #javier pena #javier pena imagine #javier pena fluff #javier pena smut #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x ofc #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña smut #javier peña fic #javier peña fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #javi peña x reader

[sillygoobermanlol]

MIGUEL O'HARA X GN VILLAIN SPIDER READER

Miguel O’hara X GN spider reader

DISCRIPTION: You were best friends with Miguel O’hara ever since highschool. he was always a dork but he was there for you, he stood up for you, and you admired every bit of him. That is until he died, you didn’t know how to deal with his death and started working for some bad people using your spider abilities for bad bad things, until a strange portal opens up in your world.

This is legit my first time ever publishing some of my writing and it just so happens to be a Miguel fanfiction because hes been my hyperfixation for a few months now lol, I want feedback because I might not keep updating, if i do its gonna go on AO3 when I get my account. I have some good stuff planned I just wanna know if people like it so far. ^_^

Reader is GN but specifically transmasc so there MIGHT be some references to that throughout the story so idkidkidkdikddahhagagahvsgsh

Earth 1317

You were best friends with Miguel O’hara ever since highschool. he was always a dork but he was there for you, he stood up for you, and you admired every bit of him.

You have been living together for two months now, both of you had graduated and now Miguel was in college studying whatever nerds study. You weren’t to interested in Miguel’s work it always bored you in everyway but you still pretended to be interested when he ranted about it.

Miguel made his way down the hallway of your shared small apartment, he opened the door to your messy room flipping on the switch causing you to squint your eyes due to the harsh sudden light, “Dude!” you say covering your eyes. You had been searching for a job for the past few weeks in order to help Miguel with the bills but due to your piercings and careless attitude you were getting nowhere, he had offered to help you look.

“I’ve got good news do you wanna hear it or not?” he said leaning on the door frame, you snarled, you hated when he dangled information over your head. “sure whatever.” you huffed, fidgeting with your hands, “good. because Alchemax desperately needs a janitor, they will pretty much take anyone at this rate.” he said with a tone that almost made you laugh. You weren’t too crazy about the idea of being a JANITOR the idea made your head hurt, don’t the nerds at Alchemax keep the place clean enough? you thought. “A janitor??” you groaned,

Miguel furrowed his eyebrows, “You don’t have many options, plus I think this could be a good learning experience for you” he said gesturing to your room, you threw a pillow at him. “you’re such an ass,” you said holding back a smile, “But seriously, this is the ONLY thing you could find?” you pouted, he said your name sternly “You need this. plus I get to see you at work,” his expression softened to something more empathetic.

You sighed finding his expression convincing, “yeah okay.” you mumbled, “Look I know this isn’t the most exciting job, but you’re gonna be fine,” he sat on your bed causing the mattress to sink with him, “I know.” you looked up at him, dark circles under his eyes from countless nights of intense researching, he wore square black glasses and his eyes were a deep brown. you slumped on your bed looking up at the ceiling, “I just wish it were better you know?”

“It will, I swear we just have to give it time.” he said softly, you smiled at him. “Yeah alright O’hara I just better not be cleaning up any shit.”

The next day Miguel woke you up, he wakes up earlier then you for work and you hated this. He watched you with a cup of coffee in his hand as you struggled groggily through your morning, you brushed your teeth and angrily at your cereal. when It was finally time to leave you both walked to the bus stop because neither of you had a car. Miguel thought this was a good opportunity for exercise, and of course you hated this. he was always a pretty muscular guy considering the fact that he was always hidden away in his lab, he was also tall and caught the attention of a lot of people but never seemed to return it.

You arrived at Alchemax, the place was fucking massive. people in lab coats swarming the place, you thought about running as fast as you could out of there but remembered your conversation with Miguel. He also wore a lab coat that went down to the back of his knees, Miguel greeted more of his nerdy work buddies as the both of you made your way inside the building. In the hallways you could see inside the labs, every room made for something different. Miguel had to pull you away from some of them urging you to continue the tour he was giving you.

As you walked down the hallway there were tables holding more sciencey stuff, you reached out to touch but Miguel grabbed your hand. “Okay, ground rules. DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING or even THINK about it either, got it?” he said sternly, “ohhkayyyyy.” you mocked him, “I’m serious, this place isn’t a joke.” he said continuing to walk, you caught up with him, “Well im gunna need to touch things if I’m gonna work here,” you smiled. “Don’t be a smartass,” he said pointing a finger at you.

You stopped at a door where Miguel took out some keys, it must’ve been his lab. He flipped on the lights and it wasn’t nearly as exciting as the others were,  “Alright, stay here I'll bring in my boss so he can meet you, then you can start cleaning up the shit or whatever,” he explained. You huffed at that last line, “yup.” you said holding up a thumb slumping in one of his rolley chairs. He made his way to the door you both entered in and turned to face you again “Don’t fuck this up,” he said pointing at you.

When he left the room was quiet, tooooo quiet. You spun around in the chair Miguel’s words ringing in your ears “Dont fuck this up.” I wouldn’t fuck this up you thought, but your boredom was starting to get the best of you. You got up from the chair roaming around Miguel’s lab, lots of paper work you thought. Your eyes finally made your way to the door, he wouldn’t be mad if I just peaked into another room right?

And you did just that, most rooms had more lab nerds in them but a dark room peaked your interest. The door was left open, this is totally not sketchy you thought. Nobody was in this room, in the dark you could see the glistening of test tubes, you squatted down to one of them. Spiders. A shit ton of them too ,you rested your hands on the table not noticing the little critter that crawled onto your hand exploring your fingers until it found a place to BITE. The pain caught your attention you shook your hands sucking the air in through your teeth.

Seconds after Miguel burst into the room “What are you doing? I told you to stay!” he scolded dragging you out of the room, he pinched the bridge of his nose lifting his glasses in the process. You were still holding your bitten hand feeling guilty now, “¿Qué voy a hacer contigo?” he sighed. You knew he was pissed when he spoke in Spanish.

“Look I’m sorry, can we just go?” you said almost teary eyed, the meeting with Miguel’s boss was boring for the most part other then the fact that you couldn’t stop sweating. You felt tired all of a sudden blaming it on the fact that you had woken up so early, when you got home you basically jumped face first onto your bed. You had gotten the job, you were happy but something just didn’t feel right. Miguel was kinda pissed at you for running off too, and you didn’t blame him, you slept the rest of the day away.

The next morning the light peaking through your curtains felt more intense, you groaned and covered your face with your blanket. It had felt like you had ridden 100 roller coasters, when you uncovered your face again it felt worse. Your ears rang and you were so sweaty, your door opened, that sound even was louder than usual. It was Miguel, “alright sleepyhead time for work,” he said tugging at your blanket. “Miguel, it feels like im gunna puke,” you whined, he said your name “Please no excuses, it’s your first day get up.” he said less playfully, but after seeing the beads of sweat on your forehead he moved closer.

He placed a hand on your head, “Jesus, your burning up.” his voice now a whisper, when he removed his hand he sighed and rubbed his face, “You’re lucky my boss liked you, I can cover for you but just this once okay?” his voice sounded empathetic but stern,  you nodded your head.

About an hour after Miguel left you finally got the strength to roll out of bed, mostly because you were so oddly hungry. You made your way to the kitchen closing every single curtain until it was dark enough for you, grabbing the milk you sat it on the table now reaching for your favorite cereal you pour a good amount before attempting to put the box down realizing it was completely stuck to your hand.

You struggle a bit, shaking your hands frantically causing cereal to fly everywhere, you slip on a few pieces of cereal and now you’re on the floor and magically the box is now unstuck from your hands landing right on your face. You lay there for a few seconds trying to process whatever the fuck just happened, you lift your hands to your face closely observing them. “What the actual fuck.” you whisper to yourself.

The rest of the day was even weirder, more stuff sticking to your hands, you even caught a fucking fly in mid air, What was going on with you? Later on in the day you decided to get some fresh air, you needed to think, maybe you were going crazy? After your walk you made your way back home, catching Miguel entering your apartment at the same time as you were, he notices you, “Don’t tell me that whole sick thing this morning was just to get out of work.” he grumbled staring directly at you, you stood there not really knowing what to say.

Should you tell him? every thought raced through your head, yet all that came out was “No, im just feeling better maybe it was just a bug.” you say walking past him into your apartment, your tone worried him, Miguel headed in after you. He sighed putting down his bag so he could tend to you, “Okay, what’s going on with you? he said softly, you shrugged with your hands still in your pockets while looking down at the floor. “You know I care about you right, you can talk to me. I know I can be so….strong at times, but I care I really do.” it almost sounded like he was scolding you, his words were strong and you knew he meant what he said, they must’ve really pulled at your heartstrings because the next thing you know you were in tears.

Miguel was by your side as you sobbed, holding you close to his chest. “I just…don’t know whats wrong with me.” you said in between sobs, “There’s nothing wrong with you, tonto,” he slowly rocked you back and fourth until you calmed down. “Thank you,” you said wiping your eyes with your sleeve, you wouldn't know what you'd do if he weren't here. you both were on the couch now as he held you, “I’m always gonna be here for you, just like you’re always there for me, alright?” he said with a warm smile.

And he was, all the way until the end.

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #gn reader #transmasc reader #Miguel x transmasc reader #miguel x gn reader #miguel x you #into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman miguel #miggy #miguel o'hara x male reader #mlm fiction #spiderverse #miguel o'hara x ftm reader #ftm reader

[namboobieslover]

Kintsugi: the beauty of broken things || MYG

Chapter 3

Summary: Yoongi and Minnie have been friends for quite some time now, almost... 15 years? 15 years since they ran into each other in that music classroom by an unlucky (or not) mistake. They've grown close, but both of them have strong characters and insecurities that will have to be put aside when Minnie falls into her own lie, risking her job in the process. They have 3 days to feel comfortable and make everyone believe their role as the young engaged couple or she is fucked :[

Pairing: musical producer! Yoongi x lab tech/science nerdy! f reader au; non-idol! BTS members make a brief appearance

Genre: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn (?), best friends to fake couple au, constant unresolved sexual tension, two idiots too proud to openly speak but pinning each other

Warnings: use of bad language, mentions of insecurities/low self-esteem, anxiety, trauma; light use of weed, little smut if you scrutinize, SFW

Masterlist: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // ...

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

CHAPTER 3: We on, baby.

Word count: 2816

I wake up with a pounding headache as soon as I open my eyes in the morning.

-When will I learn to stop drinking? - I fumble to myself while holding my head between my hands.

Takes me more than it should but I finally get up, my reflection in the bathroom mirror remembering the bad choices of last night.

After a long shower, I feel again like a human being. After brushing my teeth the unsettling feeling in my stomach is gone.

I don't have much time to get ready, so I pick whatever clothing looks comfier and I start my way to the bus stop.

The trip gives me a few minutes to check my smartphone, answering some unread messages from family and friends but especially Yoongi.

The day goes slow, really slow. My eyes hurt when looking at the little samples through the microscope but the silence in the lab is exquisite. 1-1 in cons vs pros.

Even though my mind is a little foggy, it's a good evening. I'm able to keep a stable medium for the cells to grow and it seems like the replication of the environment is going as it should. Also, the culture I did to explore the possibilities of a virus as a treatment is growing nicely. My research is on the right path.

I finish around 9:30 pm thanks to all my good achievements and I'm really hungry.

The place I’ve chosen to order tonight's dinner it's the one with vegetarian burgers near my job; a lot of time has passed since the last time I ate here. I pick my favourite (the delicious plant-based), for Yoongi the one with veal and lastly, a portion of potatoes to share.

-Hi Minnie, how are you today? -the grandma who owns this place asks me- I haven't seen you for a long time; where have you been?

-I've been busy with work lately; my routine has been hectic.

-It's noticeable; you have lost weight and it is unusual to see you with eye bags. Aren’t you resting enough?

-More or less; it's a temporary situation. Hopefully next week things will come to their normal rhythm. But I really missed your food Mrs Lee -I speak honestly while pouting- You are the closest thing to my mother's food in this city.

-And you are my favourite client so please, come visit more even if it's just to have a coffee. I find all your science things interesting, as does my Sandra.

-How is she?

-She is studying every chance she has; your notes have helped her greatly. She also told me that you are available to answer her doubts.

-Yeah of course. It's an honour to be able to help another woman to infiltrate this amazing world that science is. Sadly there are fewer of us than it should be.

-I appreciate that so much… -she gets a little emotional at my words.

-What about you? How is it going with the knee replacement?

-Rest of my body it's still old but that knee seems like it has its own life. My younger grandson, Taeyang, says that I have become a transformer.

After a little more catch-up talk while food is in the making, I start my way to Yoongi’s apartment; 10 minutes away from here.

The walk is nice and feels super fast while listening to my favourite songs. Lately, that has been Namjoon 's latest álbum, Indigo. I swear, that man is a poet hiding behind his hip-hop style and a smoking hot body that seems little when he has a clumsy day. The lyricism of his songs makes my heart flutter and I'll never get tired of telling him.

One good thing about Yoongi's work is the fact that I'm able to meet new artists he is friends with, and learn about other cultures, influences and styles. He always introduces me to them and usually, it is really easy to be part of their little musician group even if I'm not that well instructed in that area. The group we all have is "pussycians" since half of those boys are afraid to let people get to know them (strangely that doesn't apply to one-night stands and I lectured them about it) and I'm a girl + a bunch of musicians boys. As you can tell, the last idea wasn’t mine but from Kim Seokjin, the older of us.

With "Still life" at its maximum level, I finally reach my best friend's door. I struggle a little but when I'm about to open it, it does by itself showing a dishevelled Yoongi. He scares me and I can't hear a word of what he is saying with the earphones on.

-Holy crap Yoongi, you scared me to death -I struggle to say still agitated while taking them off - one day you'll be the reason I end up with a heart attack.

-You were noisy; it's not my fault. You didn't listen because of the music. You'll be deaf before turning thirty if you don't stop using the highest level.

-Don’t you feel like, sometimes, with some songs, listening to them doesn't feel enough to you? Like… I wish every single note were able to enter my brain and scratch it internally till I can't think any more.

-Umm… I guess -he agrees with me a little confused, but entertained.

I enter his house with him closing the front door after me. I go directly to the small table that sits near the sofa; the usual place we eat instead of the main table.

-Which song was that good? -my friend asks while tearing the sleep away from his eyes.

-Namjoon's "Still Life". His latest álbum is incredible; you have hard competition, boy.

-Indigo is cool, but maybe I'm a little more into J-hope's "Jack in the Box". Kinda old school hip-hop, dark, rock vibes… but that's on my taste.

-Same but reverse for me, so I get you. I really like Hobi's main songs and even the intro with all the Pandora thingy or Equal Sign, but it doesn't exactly match my taste as a general artwork.

I unpack the food while talking about it and its smell makes my stomach roar.

-Is this from Mrs Lee's place? -Yoongi asks, finally awakened.

-Yeah. Told me to send you greetings in her name.

-Oh, she is so nice… Is her knee okay?

-Perfect. Little Tae told her that she is now half transformer.

-That kid is my favourite Mrs Lee grandchildren.

-Mine has to be Sandra.

-Of course you love her; she is a little you. Maybe not like you exactly; Sandra is less annoying.

He says that with a serious face, but after feeling my death glare, he can't help but smile arrogantly looking at his burger.

-I'm so glad I spilt on your food; I knew that sooner or later it would be handy and deserved.

-Don't worry honey boo-boo, nothing you do can disgust me -he answers mockingly knowing that I didn't commit such an act.

The rest of the dinner is chill. Some dating show on the TV and a light conversation about our jobs.

Once we finish the delicious food he offers me some dessert but I refuse. A little liquor some friend gifted him? Not that much. But it's understandable; it is a sweet creamy one that tastes heavenly.

-So…going straight to the point: let's talk about the plan.

-Well damn -I say almost choking on the drink- what do you wanna start with?

-Maybe…nicknames? That seems to be easiest between today's tasks -he says looking in a notepad.

-Is that a list?

-Of course. When we talked about it I took notes before forgetting due to alcohol.

-Let me see it.

"Free Minnie"

-I will ignore that name but you are an idiot Yoongles.

-○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○

"Free Minnie"

☆ 2-part plan

Day 1:

✅️ Partying together and pretending to be a couple.

✅️ Wearing clothes the other likes.

✅️ Getting used to holding hands and side hugging.

✅️ Getting comfortable being close to each other.

Day 2:

☑️  Accord lovey-dovey nicknames

☑️  Comfortably hug each other/being near/share the same vital space.

☑️  Practice:

Introducing each other

"Love story"

Pecks (????)  🤮🤮

-^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^

-Yeah, the nickname issue seems like the best fit for an appetiser. Do you have something in mind? -I answer kinda surpassed by all the tasks for today.

-For me or you?

-Whatever.

-What about calling you “my little pumpkin”?

-Are you kidding?

-No… Isn’t that what partners call each other? Some girls I dated read romance books where they talk like that.

-Well, I don't know. I never had that kind of relationship.

-Me neither.

We erupt in laughter. None of us has ever had a relationship that serious, meaning this stuff is new to us.

-Let’s start with me -I offer as an ice-breaker- I don’t know about what other people like, or you, but I’m not into clinging words. Pumpkin… is too much. I guess the better option is something on the classical side: honey, sweetheart or even Minnie since nobody calls me like that in my working environment. ‘’Babe’’ is acceptable if we feel comfortable enough with it.

-I’m not an affectionate person in speaking terms so…that’s perfect for me, honey.

I feel a slight shiver running down my body.

-Ugh, that felt weird without the sarcastic tone.

-To me too -he laughs- but we have to get used to it in less than 24 hours. Do you want another glass?

Then I realise that my drink is long finished. This liquor is truly dangerous.

-Yeah, this is delicious.

-It was a gift from one of Jimin’s travels. From the northwestern part of Spain if I’m not wrong.

-I envy him so much… he is always travelling.

-That day will come for us too, I’m sure -he declares while handing me the now filled (to the top) vase. He served himself some whiskey.

-You better be right Min Yoongi -I menace while gulping some of the hot liquid- Now… What about you? What are your chosen nicknames?

-It would be incredible if you called me “sexy monster” or something similar. That has one hundred per cent of probabilities to erase any type of doubt.

-If I ever get so drunk that the only option to get me sober is making me puke, repeat that phrase word by word, it will work.

He smacks my arm jokingly.

-Now, on a serious note… I like when you call me Yoongs, Yoongles or Yoon. And that also feels personal, don’t you think?

-Can do the work.

-I feel comfortable with babe or honey/handsome. But not baby; that’s a little cringe.

-I agree. I hate that.

-What’s the worst nickname someone has called you?

-Like… ever?

-Yeah.

-You are not ready for that, and I’m not drunk enough to say it out loud. Ask me later -I answer flustered with a playful wink.

-Don’t worry I won’t forget. Also… you tend to match inversely your lack of shyness with the alcohol level in your blood. This is going to be a fun night.

-Bla, bla, bla. Let’s keep going.

I take a bathroom rest that also allows me to change my contact lenses to the glasses. I don’t feel comfortable wearing them in public, so every day I deal with changing between both at my desk at the office of the lab, all to fulfil my work protocols and also my social anxiety. A routine I got during the pandemic time with the struggle of getting fog in the glasses due to the mask when sudden changes of temperature happen (such as entering a place, the bus…).

-I’m back, babe -I announce funnily stumbling a little with the rug’s verge. Seems like alcohol is silently doing its work- Let’s talk about how you fell in love with me.

He chokes on his drink.

-Yoongles, I was talking about the false love story.

-I know, I know. My brain is working a little slower than usual and it has a lot of things to process.

-I was thinking that keeping it real is the best. The easier, the better. You know how they say that the best lies contain some truth behind them. We can just keep the original first meeting and the school years like they were, but makeup something about college years.

-Like what?

-Aren’t you going to add something?

-Liberal arts -he excuses himself and shrugs- You are the brains, I’m the unpolluted taste. That’s how we always work, sweetheart.

I roll my eyes.

-We can explain that in the urge to reduce expenses, we decided to become flatmates. Living 24/7 made us realise that we are perfect for each other and it was difficult, but we took the step a year after. How many years are socially accepted to date before getting engaged?

-Two? -he answers, as lost as me.

-Maybe… four?

-Isn’t that a lot if we had met in high school?

-That’s true.

-What about three?

-Three is it. Who decided to take the first step in the process from friends to lovers?

-Maybe you? You have 0 patience and probably your colleagues know it… Honey.

-Yeah, sounds like me -I have to admit.

-About establishing a relationship… that fits me better. You are impatient but insecure; you would have a hard time getting the confidence. Same for the engagement?

-First of all: I’m not that insecure -I start getting kind of riled up- Second-

-Before you continue, let me ask you something. For how long have you owned those glasses?

-Mmm… around two years I think.

-Then, how is this one the first time I see you with them?

I don’t have to answer that because he knows.

-If not that, then answer the following: what do you think about yourself? Do you consider yourself pretty?

Is this what a deer caught in the headlights feels like? How can be asking this so suddenly while keeping the calm front that characterizes him? He is so annoying.

-That’s what I thought -it angers me a little to see how sure he is about that premise- Do you want a refill?

I was so nervous that once again I had finished my drink.

-I think I’m ready to try something stronger -I challenge him.

-We on, baby.

A/N: Sorry I've been missing but uni has me on constant house arrest omg. These ones are shorter but we are getting there. Hope you like it and hope you have a good night/evening... Feel free to give some feedback :)

#agust d #yoongi #suga #min yoongi #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts yoongi #bts fanfction #bts x curvy reader #yoongi x curvy reader #yoongles #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x oc #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi scenarios #haegeum #dday #producer yoongi #bts au fanfic #bts au #bts aus #bts army

[ear-worthy]

Five of The Best Short-Form Podcasts: They Value Your Time

 I love short-form podcasts. You can listen to a lot of them in a short period of time and learn a lot, or just be entertained. Some podcasts drag on for over an hour to two hours. Have they ever heard of the EDIT button? 

I can listen to these short-form podcasts while I'm making coffee, or toasting my Dave's killer whole-grains and seeds bread, or even brushing my teeth, which done right should take about two minutes. (Note: I learned that from a short-form podcast.)

So here are five short-form podcasts you might enjoy. If you don't, you've only invested a few minutes of your time. Think of it this way. There are so many commercials that run during movies on broadcast TV that you could finish any of these podcasts in that time, with spare seconds left over to break out the chip bags.

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

 Arielle Nissenblatt and Ned Donovan introduced their podcast and YouTube show, "Arielle and Ned's Daily Tips That May Or May Not Help You" in December 2023.

This new podcast shows off podcasting at its most flexible, fun, and informative. It's a podcast that is less than two minutes in length, offering life hacks and lessons of high or no value, and is fun to listen to. 

Hosted by Arielle Nissenblatt and Ned Donovan, the show touches on various aspects of life. From personal hygiene and car maintenance to uncovering the best music gems and mastering the art of waking up early. "We wanted to create a show that feels like a daily dose of inspiration and entertainment. Life is full of challenges, big and small, and we believe that sharing practical tips – no matter how quirky or unexpected – can make a positive impact on our listeners' and viewers’ lives," says Arielle Nissenblatt, co-host of the show.

Arielle Nissenblatt is the founder of EarBuds Podcast Collective, a podcast recommendation newsletter. She is on the community team at Descript, an AI-powered video and audio editing software service. She hosts two other podcasts, Trailer Park: The Podcast Trailer Podcast and Feedback with EarBuds.

Actor and multi-hyphenate creator Ned Donovan, the other half of this duo, adds, "Arielle and I are people who love trying new things and optimizing our lives. We’re taking that passion and bringing it to audiences in a quick, digestible, fun format to add a little spice to your day."

Since December, I've learned about speeding up my phone's responsiveness when using public Wi-Fi from the March 15th show. Lose your car in a parking lot? The hosts have a tip that can save you anguish and embarrassment from wandering around the lot or garage.

Have stinky shoes? Arielle and Ned have an answer in two minutes for you on their January 31st show. Check out Arielle and Ned's Daily Tips That May Or May Not Help You. Every morning before school or work, you can get a daily dose of tips, laughter, and unexpected discoveries. All in two minutes. Hey, your toaster takes longer than that to brown your 100% sprouted rye bread.

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

  5 Minute Biographies is a short-form podcast that can offer listeners brief biographies of famous people without reading a 600-page book by Ron Chernow or listening to a two-hour podcast.

 Each week, the podcast aims to bring you interesting information about fascinating people in about five minutes in the form of short biographies, which can also be read on their website. 

Here's what host Anthony Davis says: "For a long time now, I have listened to podcasts whilst driving from place to place for my job. Invariably, when I arrive at my destination, I have to pause the podcast and finish listening to it on my way home.

"I have always been a fan of history and of biographies, and there are a number of other podcasts and websites out there that cater for my interests. However, as I mentioned above, some of these podcasts can be over an hour in length and when it comes to reading a page on a website I tend to do it in only five minute or ten minute spurts. I don’t have time to sit in front of a computer for hours reading biographies.

"So, I searched around for a podcast which would provide me with short bursts of information, but I couldn’t find exactly what I wanted, so I thought I may as well have a go at creating what I was looking for, and 5 minute biographies was born."Recent biographical subjects include women's suffrage movement's Emmeline Pankhurst, mysterious movie star Greta Garbo, race car driver Niki Lauda, King Of Soul Sam Cooke, and Joan of Arc. ****************************************************************************

One Minute Podcast Tips is designed for people who want to be better podcasters. Considering that millions are either podcasting now or have tried their hand at podcasting, that's a potentially large and motivated audience. 

Host Danny Brown makes good on his promise to help people "be a better podcaster in just a minute a week."

 Brown is the Head of Podcaster Support and Experience at Captivate.fm, "the world's only growth-oriented podcast hosting, distribution, analytics, and monetization platform for the serious indie podcaster."

Brown knows his stuff and his tips range from creating a newsletter to a decision on WAV files or MP3 files.  Brown discusses the best audio editing software for beginners and a topic for experienced podcasters like using a shock mount for your microphone.

Check out One Minute Podcast Tips for expert help with your podcast.

 Danny Brown is one of the most knowledgeable people in the field. Plus, he's from Canada, where podcasting is booming.

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

Kids Ask Dr. Friendtastic is a weekly, five-minute podcast for kids about making and keeping friends. Each episode features an audio recording of a question about friendship from a kid, plus a practical and thought-provoking answer.

Eileen Kennedy-Moore, PhD, also known as Dr. Friendtastic, is an author and clinical psychologist based in Princeton, NJ, and a trusted expert on children's feelings and friendships.

I'm not the least bit embarrassed to confess that I listen to this podcast for tips about friendship. In episode 29, Abby, 9, wants to know the difference between friendly and unfriendly teasing. I'm a lot older than Abby, I still don't know the answer. 

 Dr. Moore is a terrific host whose voice exudes empathy and understanding. In episode 13, Dr. Moore tackles a question from Mara, 9, who's dealing with an octopus friend. You know, a friend who doesn't want her to have other friends. Dr. Moore sticks the landing on this one.

This is one of the best kids podcasts in the audio verse, and it seems ideal for parents and kids to listen together and discuss the issues on each episode. 

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

  NPR News Now is a news program that is updated hourly by National Public Radio. It's a simple yet effective format. It's a five-minute news program updated hourly. No muss. No fuss. No partisan misinformation.

Today, with all the partisan news and 24/7 news channels that try to hawk opinion as news to fill all the time, NPR News Now is a refreshing drink of fair and objective news. 

NPR has many of the best correspondents, and it is an exceptional news-gathering organization. Unlike some news channels that are organized under the Entertainment division of their network to protect them from lawsuits, NPR reports on what's happening that day with a minimum of editorial comment. Thank goodness.

#podcast #podcasting #kids educational #life lessons #newsalert #biography

[polaris-one]

Most Productive Time Management coaching tips

If you're like most people, you probably have a lot of responsibilities on your plate. You might work full-time, have kids at home or both. It's not easy to balance everything in life and still feel like you've got time for yourself. It can be even harder to stay productive throughout the day when there are so many distractions around us! That's why so many people look for productivity coaching tips: they want guidance on how to make their days more efficient and get more done in less time. Here are some of my favorite strategies:

Stop checking email first thing in the morning.

When you wake up in the morning, your mind is full of fog and your body needs a few moments to warm up. Your first task should be to start your day with some form of exercise or movement--even if it's just taking a quick walk around the block.

Next, take some time for yourself: make coffee or tea (or both), drink it slowly while reading something inspirational or informative, and enjoy those few moments of quiet before starting your day.

Limit your number of tasks.

The first thing you need to do is set your priorities. What's important and what isn't? Are any of these tasks truly urgent, or are they just things that you want to get done? It's easy to get caught up in the idea of being productive, but it's even more important that we prioritize our time so that we can be effective. Once you have your priorities straightened out, it will be much easier for us as coaches and mentors to help guide your efforts towards those goals which have been deemed most important by yourself (or whoever else may be involved).

Next up: breaking down tasks into smaller steps! This may seem like a no-brainer at first glance--but trust me when I say there are many ways in which people go about this step poorly without realizing it until later on down the road when their projects aren't going according to plan. For example: let's say someone has decided their top priority is becoming healthier by exercising more often; however upon further examination after setting some goals around working out regularly there seems like there might not actually be enough time every week between working full-time hours plus commuting back home after work every day before getting ready for bedtime rituals such as brushing teeth or changing clothes etcetera...

Focus is the key to productivity.

To be productive, you need to focus on one thing at a time. Don't try to do two or more things at once. This is called "multitasking," and it's not effective because you're actually wasting time switching back and forth between tasks instead of completing them in succession. If there are multiple projects that need your attention, schedule them into separate blocks of time so that you can give each project 100% focus during its designated block of time (and avoid distractions).

Be attentive throughout this process; don't let yourself get distracted by other things going on around you or in your head! When working on something important (like finishing up an article), don't let interruptions take away from your concentration--turn off notifications if possible and close out applications like email so they don't pop up while working on something else (or use an app like StayFocusd). If someone comes over to ask questions about something unrelated but urgent-sounding enough that they won't leave until getting answers right now... well then maybe just answer their question quickly before returning back again later when finished up with whatever task at hand was most important right now anyway :)

Don't try to multi-task.

Multi-tasking is a myth. When you try to do too much at once, you can't focus properly on any one thing and your productivity suffers as a result. Instead of multi-tasking, focus on one task at a time and then move on to the next one when it's done. This will help ensure that the tasks get done efficiently and effectively so that when you finish them all, there's no need for any last minute rush jobs before their due date!

Use Pomodoro technique.

The Pomodoro Technique is a time management method that breaks down your work into intervals of 25 minutes, followed by a five-minute break. The idea is to focus on one task for the entire 25 minutes and then take a short break before starting another Pomodoro.

The key to this technique is using a timer (like an egg timer or an app) to keep yourself accountable for how long you're working on each task, so that no matter what happens throughout the day, you'll always know if your productivity has been compromised by distractions or procrastination.

There are many ways to apply this technique: some people like having 4 Pomodoros in one day while others prefer just 2 or 3 per day. Some people also prefer using it as their main way of getting things done; others use it only when they really need help focusing on something specific (like writing).

Write down your goals and review them every day.

In order to achieve your goals, it's important to have a clear picture of what they are. If you don't know where you're going, it will be difficult for others (and yourself) to help guide and support your progress along the way. The first step in becoming more productive is deciding what needs improving in your life and work-related tasks, then setting concrete goals based on those improvements.

Reviewing these daily or weekly will keep them top-of-mind so that when opportunities arise for self-improvement or achieving new things at work, they won't slip past unnoticed!

Have regular screen breaks, but don't work in short spurts of time.

The most productive time management coaching tips are to have regular screen breaks, but not work in short spurts of time.

While it may be tempting to work on your project for an hour or two and then take a break, this isn't the best way to get things done. Working in short spurts of time will only make you feel more stressed and exhausted throughout the day because it's not a sustainable way of working that allows you to focus on what matters most: completing projects and tasks with ease!

Instead, try working for longer periods of time--at least 15 minutes--with regular breaks throughout each session (for example: every 45 minutes). This will help keep up your energy levels while also preventing burnout from overworking yourself too much at once; plus there's no need for excuses like "I'm just going out for lunch" or "I'll take five minutes now." You can just tell them straight up: "I need some space right now."

Polaris One is a time management coaching service that helps entrepreneurs and executives manage their time more effectively. We offer coaching and workshops to help you get more done in less time, so you can enjoy the freedom of working on projects that truly matter to you.

Polaris One provides an entrepreneur coaching services. We help you take control of your time and get more done in less time. We do this through our unique approach to coaching, which is based on a combination of science and art.

#Business coach near me #business coaching near me #business coaching and consulting services #time management coaching

[not-that-taliesin]

i don’t know what butch means to you.

all i know is that i fall asleep at night thinking about that perfect scenario, where a cute girl needs a light for her cigarette and i’m already there to offer one before she can even ask. she doesn’t even notice i’m going weak in the knees and my heart is fluttering like some beautiful wild bird in a cage, begging her to open the latch and set me free, because my voice comes out smooth as buttercream and she calls me “charming.”

i have so much love in me that i would overflow if i didn’t give so much of it away, and i’m desperate for some beautiful girl to take my heart between her teeth, just so i can feel the fear. i pray she takes just enough to stabilize me, because bloodletting is loveletting and i’m desperate for her cure. i’ve been in the mouth of the monster so many times that heartbreak feels like coming home in its inevitability. i wouldn’t have it any other way.

i want to wake up half an hour before she does, just so i can make her morning cup of coffee or tea or whatever she likes best. i make her breakfast because she’s got another big day at work and i know she needs the energy. she’s getting up right as i finish, and i always pretend to be shocked, but the truth is i’ve got our morning routine carved into my heart like grooves on vinyl, and the needle never skips. she comes into the kitchen and wraps her arms around my waist. she kisses my neck and calls me “handsome,” and i melt for her all over again.

i’m open with my closest friends, those who want to see me without the masks, but she’s the one that dives deeper, helps me dredge up the weeds and mud and the forgotten things that still lie at the bottom of the riverbed of my memory. we pick through it like archaeologists, and i trust her to be gentle as she helps me brush away the shame, the guilt, the fear. we toss the mud into the garden and make garlands out of the weeds, and we turn those waterlogged mementos into modern art, and we laugh until our sides hurt, and my heart has never felt lighter.

i’ll get my heart broken a million times if it means being loved a million-and-one. put me in the fire and set me on the anvil. help me figure out my shape: every hammerfall brings me closer to my purpose. i’m desperate to know what i’ll become, in the right hands. she works the forge like a master, and when she’s done, i’m a weapon in her hands—the two of us against the world. when we untangle ourselves from ecstasy, breathless and full of life, i look into her eyes and see what she sees in me. i see her, and myself, and the negative space between us. i see the masterpiece we make when our bodies touch, and i whisper a truth for the world to hear: i love you. i love you. i love you.

i don’t know what butch means to you. i only know what it means to me. but somewhere out there, she knows it, too.

#writing #butch #sapphic

[literaila]

ten seconds of space.

spencer reid x reader 

summary: the reader overhears spencer ask for space and well...

warnings: angst, seperation anxiety, intimacy issues, fluff, contridicting myself every sentence. 

a/n: hi darlings! so, maybe you know, that a year ago i started writing again. and maybe you also know that exactly a year ago (in two hours!) i posted my first fic called “space”. it was a birthday present to myself, and so now, so is this. if you enjoyed space i hope you’ll enjoy this! (the only differences are.. improvements i hope). thank you for reading, and getting me here. 

the first one here. 

*

it was something in the air, sure.

it must’ve been something uncontrollable, unexplainable. something in the air.

that’s why you’re staring at him, now, watching him with a familiar sensation in your stomach.

love, maybe? pain, possibly. maybe it’s just because you haven't eaten anything yet, or maybe this feeling is real. you don’t really care, you know.

you just stare, watch his eyelashes flutter against his cheek and resist the urge to reach out to him. in so many ways, you’re resisting the urge.

it’s mornings like this— since nearly a week ago —that you adore most. mornings when you can just pretend until the alarm goes off. when you don’t have to sleep, cold, next to him.

it’s something in the air, something around you, on mornings like this. if you have to put the blame somewhere— and you do because this is shameful, because this is ridiculous and you hate it —you’re going to put it on the air.

and the sun, and the blankets, and your emotions, and this infuriatingly beautiful man who is lying next to you. and those words, terrible words that just won’t-

it’s an immature deflection that you don’t care to think about.

you breathe in, one, two seconds. then, close your eyes and memorize the scent.

your hand reaches out, your eyes are still closed, not ever daring to actually touch spencer’s skin. (never). but, coming just close enough to his cheek, just right there. the warmth, tiny, superfluous, is just enough to keep your hand from daring any closer.

it’s enough to keep the words at bay. to avoid that swell in your chest.

to make sure he’s still sleeping.

…you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. honestly, you trusted spencer, you trusted your friends, and you knew that spencer would tell you if something was going on.

well, used to.

it wasn’t your fault, really, that you slipped up. that you stood on the other side of the door (cracked only slightly, just enough for you to hear) and listened to every word he said.

it was an accidental pause, one that you might wince at every time you thought back. but still, you didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

especially not when he was talking about you, telling JJ that he-

you breathe in again. force the memory away from the front of your mind. you turn to check the clock, making sure to never let your hand drift too far down, and frown when you catch the numbers.

there’s only a few more minutes left of this morning, of this moment. you want to savour every second, but really, how can you do that when you’re not even supposed to be looking at him in the first place?

a scoff emerges from the silence, not loud enough to wake spencer, but enough to bring your attention back to that feeling in your stomach.

love, you swear. why would you be feeling anything else?

you steal another look. watch his parted lips, breathing, watch his eyebrows, his nose, his cheek, his eyelids, and his skin. his skin.

you’re looking at it all, and you know it’s not really there but you can hear something counting down the seconds in your mind. reminding you that this is it. it’s cruel.

finally, you let one fingertip trail along the space under his eyes, you let one fingertip move across his cheek and bask in the exhilaration. spencer doesn’t stir. doesn’t breathe.

you smile, for only a moment.

and then, there’s ten seconds, and you’re moving away from spencer.

there’s nine seconds and the smile on your face is gone.

there’s eight seconds left, left, and you’re closing your eyes briefly. trying to keep that feeling from tearing through them.

there’s seven seconds and you’re rolling on your side, facing away from him.

six seconds.

and then five, and you whisper the rest of the numbers out loud, you breathe and breathe and there’s only one second left.

you don’t jump when the alarm goes off. you don’t move, you don’t breathe.

spencer is sitting up beside you, always meticulous and dependable.

you breathe in once and feel his hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake. you breathe once and turn to look up at him.

“good morning,” he whispers, notes of sleep around his eyes and a soft smile on his face.

you stare, watch, look. you stare for only one second, just to get a chance to look into his eyes, longing for something that’s not really there. and then as every other day this week—

you’re up and out of bed, away from his eyes, within five seconds. you’re in the other room in six.

*

when spencer looks at you later that day— at work, several hours after you stopped thinking —you don’t hesitate to smile.

it’s easy, actually, to act normal from across the room.

it’s easy to enjoy the smile you get in response. it’s easy to enjoy it just for a second.

you turn around though, forget the moment ever happened.

it’s exhausting to pretend this is normal, so terribly easy. it’s too much for the middle of the afternoon, for a boring day at work.

you tune those thoughts out and get back to the paperwork you’re supposed to be finishing. you haven’t noticed the looks your teammates have been giving you lately, so you don’t notice now.

really, it’s not that hard to pretend. not this time.

*

you didn’t mean to eavesdrop when you failed to knock on the door. you didn’t mean to pause, or to turn your head so that you could hear a little bit better.

you didn’t mean to listen, or to turn around a minute later, wet eyes and dry feelings.

it was all an accident.

to be there and to hear. to be taking a file to him at this very moment.

but you are, and you were, and you’re standing there, hanging onto his every word.

“it’s…” there was a murmur, something you couldn’t hear through the door. “suffocating…”

you shouldn’t have been standing there.

“i’m sure y/n isn’t…” the higher voice drifted off, and still, you weren’t supposed to be listening.

“no, no. it’s not them, it’s just-“

this time the voice stopped. you were leaning in closer, curiosity spiked, adrenaline flowing.

you should’ve just walked away.

“i just need some space,” there was something after that, a whisper, a name you knew, a word you could hear. but you were already walking away.

it wasn’t much. it wasn’t a long sentence. it wasn’t anything significant.

except, except. he had whispered your name, just after. he had said the words, the words— that would repeat themselves over and over for god knows how long after —and then he had whispered your name.

i just need some space. he said.

not to you, of course. it was an accident to hear them in the first place.

i just need some space.

you walked away, slouching, unaware of anything else. you tried not to listen, tried not to hear it. begged that pause to erase itself, and begged those words to disappear.

but they couldn’t, and they wouldn’t. and maybe, maybe it wasn’t an accident at all.

*

at home, you move rooms.

you’re learning, you know. learning how to separate yourself, how to keep your distance, how to be better.

how to. how to. how to.

you decided, moments after those words, seconds after that feeling crawled its way up your neck. you decided that you needed to learn how to give spencer space, how to be okay with some more distance.

and that everlasting question, what are you doing wrong?

, well you had to learn how to fix it.

but you’re still learning. and you still yearn to cuddle with him on the couch when he sits next to you. you still want to play with his hair when he’s sitting at his desk. you still want to drag him to get coffee at two in the morning, and laugh with him when he beats you at chess.

you want it all, but, you have to learn. and so, you learn, you navigate and you try to let it all go. smile at spencer, kiss him in the morning, hand him his file at work, and keep your distance.

it’s a perfectly balanced, perfectly organized routine, but he always tilts the scale when he comes to sit down next to you.

when he watches you in the kitchen, and when he comes into the bathroom with you to brush his teeth.

when it hurts, when it burns, when you ask again, what are you doing… but you still try to discreetly move out of the way. when you smile at him then change rooms and pretend this is all normal.

he walks into the room now, book(s) in hand, a happy smile on his face. he watches you and you pretend not to notice. then, he sits next to you, so close, and leans your way.

he smiles some more and whispers out a gentle “hey, love,” as he opens his book.

you acknowledge him with a short “hey,” so quiet that you’re not sure if he heard.

you breathe while he’s right next to you, try to keep your eyes off his hands and off his face and off of him.

and too many seconds later, you’re getting up. you’re swiftly walking away.

and you don’t turn back to look at him. you’re learning.

*

there was something to be said about the feel of his skin.

god, you’re not supposed to be doing this.

something there, addictive, exhilarating, an unstoppable tidal wave of emotion. something to be said about the feel of his skin against yours.

you’re supposed to be walking away right now.

something about his hands and his mouth and this kiss that he’s breathing into you.

what are you doing wrong?

you’re kissing him, you know, you’re kissing him because he grabbed onto your waist. you’re kissing him because once he was close enough, once you could practically taste him, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

you’re kissing him because you miss him and because he grabbed onto you while you were walking by because he grabbed on and he wouldn’t let you go and you missed him so much and—

what are you doing wrong?

you’re not supposed to be doing this.

it’s his voice, it’s his face, it’s his skin, it’s his lips, it’s his everything that finally gets you to break away from him with a gasp.

it’s his words, from before, that finally get you to move away, a few steps back, and catch your breath.

spencer is just staring at you, lips raw, eyes glistening.

he’s so beautiful and this is so terrible.

you smile, tight-lipped, trying not to say anything.

“what?” he asks, he’s smiling back, bigger than you. you’re both still panting.

you can hear those words again, louder, pounding in your ears almost as loud as your heart.

this was a mistake, you know.

“i’m tired,” is all you say. not really answering, not really listening.

but it could be true, it might be true. you’re right next to the bed and it’s so easy to slip in and pretend that whatever just happened didn’t happen.

it’s so easy to forget everything, all of it, to leave yourself standing there on the floor while you lay in bed.

it must be easy for spencer too, because, moments later you feel him move in beside you.

you both fall asleep, inches apart.

*

it's the words that keep you from crying out to him.

it’s the words that stop you from telling him.

it’s those words, so loud, that make sure to lock your secret up. to hide the pain away somewhere no one will ever find it.

except for maybe you, because really, how can you avoid it?

it’s those words, too many and too much, that keep you from talking to spencer. from asking him for help. from begging him for a hug, or a kiss, or even just a glance that lasts longer than five seconds.

you don’t want space, you want to scream at him. but you cant, you won’t, and spencer shouldn’t know. you shouldn’t blame him for the words.

but you hate them, you hate them so much that sometimes you feel as if your chest is going to explode. you think you’re going to collapse if you spend one more night years away from him. you think that you’re almost gone, that you won’t make it. you hate them.

you hate them for making you feel this helpless, for hiding you from spencer. you hate them.

(but maybe. maybe you don’t.

maybe you can’t because they came from him. because they’re a truth that you needed to hear. maybe you love them because they’re so obvious. After all, they’ll keep him here longer.

maybe you love them, secretly.)

it wouldn’t matter if the words weren’t there— pounding in your head, yelling in your ear —anyway, you think.

you and spencer don’t talk much, these days.

*

you aren’t expecting it, when it comes.

or maybe you are. you can't really remember, to be honest.

but you’ve noticed the looks, the frowns, the raised eyebrows. you noticed, you know. you just ignore it. just ignore it all.

so, when it comes, when he’s finally in front of you, finally there. you aren’t expecting it.

not the quip in his voice.

not the harsh way he asks you what’s going on.

not his never-ending stare.

“what?” you ask back, staring at the floor because there’s not much else to stare at.

“what's going on?” he asks again, softer this time. he's standing in front of you, blocking your way through the door. 

you can feel the impatience rising up in your chest. you just want to go lay down, right now. you look up. 

“can i pass, spence?” 

he looks shocked at the words, and for a moment you wonder if it's because you didnt answer, or because you’ve just called him spence. by the look on his face, you guess it could be both. 

you sigh and wait. you’ve been waiting all day. 

you still didnt expect it though. 

“what?” 

“i want to go throu-” 

“no, i heard you. i just...” he pauses, turns around and through the door, complying with you. you move past him. 

this is cruel of you, some part of you knows, this is cruel. but you’ve learned, you’ve practiced for far too long to stop now. 

you cant just stop because spencer asks a question. you cant stop. you wont make another mistake. 

the bile rises in your throat. you push it down with a question, you turn it away, slam the door. 

spencer is looking at you, watching you grab something out of a drawer. you can feel his eyes on your back. 

“what is going on?” he asks again, anger and desperation mixing in his voice this time. you’re glad you cant see his eyes, you note. glad this isnt really happening. 

you’ve been playing pretend for a while. 

“nothing, spencer,” you say, you mutter, you sigh. you’re very tired, you realize. 

“nothing?” he whispers and you turn around to face him. his soft eyes are pleading, now. his face is contorted, his worry is palpable in the air. you dont understand it. 

you’ve been acting perfectly normal. 

there's a longing in your mind that wishes for it to go away. 

you nod at him. 

spencer laughs then, a harsh sound in the quiet room. you dont think you understand anything. “nothing?” he repeats, a doubtful question this time. “you arent even looking at me,” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair and your eyes flick up. “you won't even look at me for more than two seconds at a time and theres nothing going on?” 

you meet his eyes. dont flinch. this is normal. it's very easy. 

“i’m looking at you now,” you offer, a brighter tone, shifting into a happier person in an instant. 

spencers eyes are wide. “thats not-” he groans and moves away, turns toward the bed and paces. you can see his impatience with you, you can feel the tension in the air. 

and despite everything, the voices, the words, the feeling in your stomach you’re trying to push down, you still have to help. somehow, you have to do more. 

“whats wrong, spence? what can i do?” you’re asking, you’re pleading and spencer turns around so fast you have to take a step back. 

“what can...” his voice is drifting off as he observes your face, your terribly blank face. hes walking closer, and you’re taking another step back. 

its painful, to be standing this close to him. painful, to not scream at him, painful to keep it all hidden behind your perfectly placed mask. your face doesnt move though, despite the pain. 

spencer tries again. takes a step forward. you take a step back. 

his eyes are frightened, but you can barely tell. 

“can i touch you?” he asks, soft, a voice you recognize but cant recall. his eyes are careful, his smile is practiced. 

you breathe in and the first flash of emotion hits your eyes. you gulp. can he touch you? you wonder, can he? 

“um,” you pause and nod at him, you pause and try to weigh the outcomes. you try not to freeze. “sure,” 

your words are quiet but spencer is rushing towards you, hes taking your arm in his hand, and hes trying to meet your eyes but you’re looking at the floor again. 

this is so strange. theres something about his skin. 

“are you okay?” he asks, he wonders, he pleads with you again. 

you laugh, trying to liven your voice, trying to push down that stupid- 

you laugh. you nod. “i’m fine,” you say, but your voice is too loud, but you’ve spoken too fast and its coming out wrong. 

spencer whispers your name. it takes all your effort not to look up at him. not to move closer, not to suffocate him with your hug, with your kiss. it takes so much effort to breathe out again. 

he whispers your name. again. 

you dont know if its him, or if its you, but suddenly your chin is up, your eyes are on his and you want to melt under his touch, you want to melt to the floor and disappear into the earth. you want so, so many things that you arent supposed to have. 

“are you okay?” hes asking the same questions again and again, but this question is desperate, helpless. you can hear that. he doesnt understand, you know, and thats terrifying. 

“why, spencer?” you ask, you demand from him in a soft voice. 

you dont need to do this right now. you can just go to bed, you think. you want to move away, you’re sure, but thats such a lie. 

he whispers your name again, takes another step toward you. its threatening in a way, terrifying in its advance. 

“why?” you demand again. “why now?” 

you’re fully in his arms now, his hold quick, strong, as your voice breaks, as your breathing halts. you’re whispering it over and over again, why why why, and spencer doesnt know what to do. he doesnt know whats going on. 

so he asks, one more time. 

“whats going on, love?” 

that feeling is there now, you know, that feeling that is just pain, just longing, just nothing and everything and so much. unbearable, strong, malicious. 

“i’m just trying to give you space,” you sob out, turning, wrapping yourself in him, breathing in the scent of his sweater. you’re crying, but you cant feel the tears. and you’re shaking, but you cant feel your limbs. 

you think, briefly, that spencer must be holding you up but you dont know. 

spencer, in reality, is frozen. hes repeating your words in his head. hes going over them like an equation, something he cant solve. 

just the same as you. 

the two of you, together, think over and over and over again. the words that have been stuck in your head for so long. 

space. space. space. 

its such an evil little word and its attacking you both. you hate it. 

“you heard,” spencer whispers against your head, maybe in awe, maybe in shock. “you werent supposed to hear that,” 

you laugh but it comes out as more of a sob. 

spencer is apologizing, whispering to you, saying “shh, shh,” in your ear. hes trying to console you, but he barely even knows how you figured it out, why you havent spoken to him. 

hes recalling everything thats happened, every kiss, every passing touch, every step you’ve taken away from him.

this is all so shocking. 

you werent expecting any of this. you didnt expect this.

“it was an accident,” you say when you get a moment to breathe, when you gasp just enough to finally take in air. you’re not sure why you’re crying. maybe its spencers hands, or maybe its his voice, or maybe its just the pain in your stomach and in your chest and resting on your throat. 

spencer, then, is grasping at your wrists which are clawing at his shirt, hes trying to breathe with you, trying to get you to look at him. hes trying so hard, but you cant tell. 

it takes a minute, and then, his hands are just soft enough to make you focus, you make you look at him again. they’re enough to breathe. 

“i’m so sorry,” he whispers, void of explanation, eyes pained looking at your face. you rub a rough palm over your cheek, wiping the tears away, trying to claw at something that isnt there. your skin feels raw, your chest feels split open. 

you’re not sure how it happened. 

“spencer,” is all you say. 

“i- i dont-” he sighs and looks down, away from your eyes, sending pangs through your chest again. 

theres something unspoken in the air, your heart beats louder, your chest feels tighter. you dont know what to say next. 

spencer speaks for you. “i’m so sorry,” he repeats, hands grasping onto your face, holding your eyes on his. 

the feeling is so unfamiliar, so strange after weeks of not touching him properly, weeks of getting by with nothing more than a sharp kiss. weeks of nothing, and more and more silence between the two of you. weeks of unbearable, undeniable, pain. 

your mind is reeling in relief but your body doesnt trust him yet. you cant relax. 

he feels the tension, he feels you pause every time he shifts. its doubt, you both know, unspoken in the air. trust, spencer knows now, is gone. trust, you realize then, has been broken. 

trust, has never been your strong suit. 

“i’m sorry,” its another whisper, another plea, another sentence full of nothing. 

and you, you’re just sitting there. you’re just waiting, just listening to him, just trying to trust him with all the fervor you used to have. 

“what happened?” you choked, voice sore. 

spencer, took a deep breath. the contraction of his chest was clear against your body, your hand, still latched on to him. 

and then, 

“avoidant personality disorder affects around 2.5 percent of the population,” he pauses, looks at your face. “it- it affects both men and women equally, and usually, it um, it tends to start early on in childhood.” 

you dont say anything, just watch his eyes, so strange now. 

spencer laughs, but its sad. its lonely. “my mom, she never mentioned anything like it. i didnt even really know what it was until-” a breath. “until i- i started studying psychology and-” 

he stops. looks away from you. 

and you dont know where this is going, you dont understand yet. you’re not like him, you cant piece together a puzzle, solve an equation. you can only listen. 

you’re not sure if you’re hearing clear enough. 

spencer looks at you again, stares for a second. swallows. “even when i learned what it was i didnt believe that i might- that i would have it.” 

he stops again. 

you hear the words. you hear and still you ask, 

“you think you have it?” 

spencer, who is still looking at you, still holding you even though you’re not sure how he can stand it, laughs. he laughs and looks down and frowns then looks up. you cant tell what hes feeling. 

“no, i’m saying i do.” 

“oh.” 

hes speaking some more, teaching you. “a lot of people dont realize that intamcy issues fluctate-- that one day someone can be completely okay and then the next they feel irritated and uncomfortable-” 

and. 

“social isolation is a common symptom of avoidant personality disorder-” 

he tells you more. speaks so fast that its hard to keep up.

“it can span out from abandonment issues, or fear of rejection. kids with deep-rooted trauma are more likely to experience it-” 

he tells you so many things, so many facts. 

and then he stops. 

spencer is holding your head in his hands again, grasping, pleading for something that you dont understand. hes making you look at him with suddenly desperate eyes. “i never meant to hurt you, though. i promise,” 

you blink at him, then nod, eyebrows furrowed. 

“i didnt you to hear that conversation with JJ- and i still wish you hadnt because i was so...i was..” he draws off, nervous, eyes looking back and forth. 

your chest is burning, that pain is still there, still ringing. some voice in your head, spencers maybe, whispers the word again. 

you flinch, almost away from spencer. scared. “you were what?” 

“i was wrong,” 

a moment pauses, spencer is staring, waiting for your reaction. 

and then, after a breath, you laugh. manically. too loud. 

spencer is confused, hes concerned. 

you keep laughing, leaning back to cluch at your waist, leaning away from him and laughing. you dont know why this is funny, you’re not sure, but it is. 

“you’re-” you start, giggling some more. “you’re a genius-” you’re running out of breath, and the tears are falling out of your eyes again, and spencer is still just staring. “you were wrong!” you exclaim, almost mockingly, almost seriously. 

spencer though, still isnt laughing. 

he waits, waits for you to calm down, to look at him again, and then he moves away from you, taking a step back. 

you frown, but his hands are finding yours. his hands are grasping yours with a grip you dont expect. you hold your breath while he stares again. 

“i was wrong,” he repeats, earnestly, urgently. “i didnt realize it until a couple of nights ago, when you moved away after we kissed. when you-” 

you try to interrupt, to explain but he continues, breathless. 

“when you looked at me like you were terrified, like you were making a mistake. you just stared at me for three seconds, and then you left. you didnt explain, didnt speak.” 

“spencer, i-” you start. 

spencer is leaning over to kiss your forehead, to hold you softly in a hug you’ve been waiting weeks for. 

its so strange, to stand here like this. 

“i realized you were avoiding me then.” spencer says, whispers. “i missed you so much and i didnt even realize it,” 

you breathe in. shocked. 

“i’m sorry,” 

“no,” 

“yes, love, i never wanted you to feel like that. to hurt you like i did, like i am.” spencer looks ashamed but you press on, scowl on your face. 

“no, no, no.” you move back, stare at him with hard eyes with a soft face. “i needed to know, spencer. if you need something, even distance from me, than i needed to know.” 

you know thats why you listened, you know that your pause had a reason. it was never an accident to know the truth-- to give spencer what he needed. 

it was easy, when you thought thats what he wanted. 

“i was wrong, though-” 

“i needed to know.” 

spencer stares at you, for the millionth time. he looks at your unwavering eyes, your stern faces. he sees it, the fear, the worry that he’ll move back, or leave, or run away from you. he can see it. 

but you, you’re just standing there. you, you changed everything just so he would be happy. 

he sees the sacrifice now, curses himself for it. 

but all he says is “okay,” and then, taking a step forward, he repeats it. “okay.” 

“okay?” you ask, voice small. 

“yes, okay. i will tell you. i’ll tell you everything,” he promises, intense eyes, and stronghold on you. 

he pulls you in again. 

its enough. its enough to fade that pain down into a simmer, to turn trust inside out again, to straighten the pins you’ve put up on the wall. 

the words are there still, but they’re distant, like the chime of an old clock, but quiet. broken. 

its so overwhelming, to be in his arms again. 

but you fall, even still, you hold him back even tighter than before, you trust that hes going to stay there. 

and the ten seconds start again. 

you’re scared, still, with nine seconds. scared that this isnt going to last, that hes going to change his mind, that hes going to realize hes right. 

you’re breathing, at eight seconds, thinking about these weeks without him, about this comfort in his eyes, in his arms. you’re thinking about how hes here right now, about how thats the only thing that matters. 

you’re smiling at seven seconds, tick-tock, as you breathe him in, as you taste the air and realize that theres always been something about his touch. 

at six seconds, hes whispering in your ear, a quiet “i love you” a meaningful promise that you’ve missed dearly. 

at five, you’re whispering back, you’re promising, you’re breathing, you’re trying not to think, trying not to worry. 

at four, you’re kissing his lips, you’re molding yourself to him once again. 

at three, hes gripping your waist, kissing you like he never has before. 

at two, you’re whispering “stay” against his lips, tasting him, pulling him, begging him. you’re not afraid to speak this time, and you dont need to pull back. 

and then and then and then, you’re holding each other and theres only one second left, theres just one tiny little moment left. 

and it’ll last a lifetime. 

*

my masterlist here. 

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fan #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds Reid #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid series

[obae-me]

A Taste of Your Own Medicine

Author’s Note: I finally did it! One of my bigger projects finished! And this is the most ambitious thing I’ve posted in a while! It’ll be my biggest post for sure! I truly, truly hope you guys enjoy this. I hope this sickfic can make you feel a bit better during these times. (*slaps fic* This bad boy can fit so many cuddles in it). Thank you all for your encouragement and support, it’s honestly what helped me get this finished! Also, I swear I’ve been over this thing more than thirty times to try and catch mistakes, but it’s a lot so if I missed mistakes I apologize. 

Word Count: 18,300

Warnings: Blood, Medication Use, Vomiting, I’m not a doctor in any way shape or form, so please don’t take any of this as a personal guide. 

As Always, Read Safely, And Please Enjoy!

Lucifer, then Satan and Mammon. After that came Beel and Belphie, followed up by Levi. Lastly Asmo. All of them, every single one, had fallen ill. Try as they may, none of them had been safe, and you’d been the main one working to nurse them back to health despite you knowing nothing about caring for demons. It had been...what was the right word? Grueling? No. Enjoyable? Well you couldn’t quite say that either. It had its ups and downs. Working for about a month straight on little sleep wasn’t exactly a dream job, but the affection and actions you’d seen were priceless. The pictures on your phone and the memories in your head would keep your heart warm for the rest of your life, but you could go no further. You were done. Done with being a nurse. Done with restless nights. Done with this illness. 

The House of Lamentation had finally begun to feel normal again, normal except for your persistent fatigue accompanied by strange shifts in your body temperature. It started off small at first, you had hardly noticed. Unfortunately, it had grown rather rapidly, impeding your day-to-day life. The fuzzy thoughts in the back of your mind knew that something was unnatural. Your body shouldn’t feel like this. Yet, afraid of facing the truth, or hoping you were just overreacting, you insisted that just sleeping it off would bring you back to normal. 

Only... you should’ve known. You should’ve seen the signs. The sneezing, the breathlessness you felt with the simplest of things, the discomfort settling in your bones. What were you going to do? Well, you figured the best thing to do was move onward, acting like nothing was amiss. Fake it till you make it. Whatever it was would go away on its own, it had to. 

But it wouldn’t, and as much as they would refuse to admit it, each demonic member of the household had grown fond of being fussed over by you. Tugging you in all directions, demanding constant attention, wearing your energy down to dust. Although, if you were being entirely honest, they tended to do that regardless. However, after being treated so specially, their neediness grew tenfold. Thus, without giving yourself a break, every morning you ended up feeling worse than the day before, and it was only going downhill from there. Perhaps you should’ve told them, nipping it in the bud before it had a change to blossom into something terrible. In retrospect, that should’ve been the obvious path to take. Yet, driven by some desire you couldn’t place, you pushed yourself so far past the breaking point that your own body had to stop you. 

Waking up to your alarm in the early hours of this particular morning was more difficult than you’d like to admit. Removing the blankets might as well have been pushing stones off your body. Your limbs felt stiff, gravity’s pull was stronger than it should’ve been, and moving forward was like pushing through waves of molasses. However, you went forward, still fooled under some grand delusion that you’d feel better once you freshened up. Gathering up a change of clothes and a towel for your morning shower, you stumbled out of your room. Getting to the bathroom had been a blur, the only thing you could recall was consistently leaning your weight against the wall to keep your legs steady. You’d met no one in your path, assuming they must’ve all already been in the dining hall, the faint smell of breakfast foods flooding the hallways. It made your stomach churn. 

Before anyone could see you in this downright pathetic state, you entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and locking it. You took a moment to catch your breath and press your forehead against the cold wood of the door. It felt amazing against your skin. But you couldn’t linger, you had to get ready for RAD. As you turned, you came up to the sink, settling your items on the side of the bowl. It was then you saw your face in the mirror for the first time that morning. Biting your lip, you splashed some water on your face, hoping it would wash away some of the hints of sickness-- the not-sickness...you weren’t sick. Right? You couldn’t have caught the demon illness, right? Was it possible? Your head was throbbing, the heart in your chest pounding in panic. What were you going to do? You couldn’t miss classes, you couldn’t let anyone know, you couldn’t be a burden. Brush your teeth, you thought. Get ready, play it off. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad. Stop overreacting. 

Showering felt nice, it was the only thing so far that let you feel some peace. The steamy hot water released some of the tension in your temples and lungs. Although, the intense heat made you lightheaded, and a single little misstep in the shower had you almost plummet to the floor. Shaking, gasping for air, desperately attempting to cling to the slick stone wall, you slowly sat on the wet tiles, leaning your body back so the stream of water landed directly on your chest. The comfort almost coaxed you back into sleep, but before you could fall into slumber, you jolted. How long had you been in there? Five minutes? Half an hour? You could forget about washing your head today. Crawling out of the shower, the frigid air burnt the inside of your nose, shuddering you with a few sneezes. Not good. You rushed to dry yourself off and pull your uniform on. Before you headed down to the dining hall, you blew your nose, shook your head, and prepared yourself to sound as normal as possible. Somehow you managed not to stumble down the stairs, something you were thankful for. Maybe it wasn’t as severe as you thought it was. 

Arguing could be heard past the hall doors. That wasn’t too rare, it’d become tradition almost, to the point where being met with an unclamorous silence was somewhat threatening. What was it this time? Mammon stealing something? Beel eating something? Belphie not doing something? 

It was hard to comprehend the words, but you could make out the important pieces. “I bought that for ya, so it… … … that I took it back!” Mammon growled. 

“Once you… … …  it was mine!” Asmo shrieked. “It wasn’t yours to sell … … … buy it in the first place!” 

Ah, so it was another Mammon related issue, you didn’t need to be a hardcore gambler to win that bet. Raised voices didn’t do any good for your head, the pressure in your eardrums throbbing. You stayed silent as you slid inside, or at least you tried to stay silent. Instead, you accidently made your presence prominent as you shut the doors too harshly behind you. Heads turned all at once, your knees threatening to turn to jelly under the gaze. 

“Is something the matter, MC?” Lucifer asked, the first one able to sense something wrong. He always knew. You were never able to hide anything from him. However, the fact that you’d been able to play things off in his presence up till now settled a sort of twisted pride inside you. You blamed Pride himself for his bad influence. Lowering his cup from his lips, he raised an eyebrow. 

You mustered up a usual grin. “Just...tired,” you lied. Had your throat always been this sore? And was it the table full of warm food, or was it terribly hot in here? Not the healing sort of temperature either, but rather the sticky suffocating heat that formed waves in your vision. Or maybe the room was swirling on its own? Tugging at the collar of your shirt, you took a single step forward, attempting to walk again. You lowered your head, turning away from the eldest, remaining as inconspicuous as possible for fear he’d take one good look at you and expose your troubles. Lucifer was not convinced, shifting his gaze between his morning cup of coffee and your strange stature. For the time being, he dropped his questions, lying in wait for you to exude any signs that you were lying. 

Doing your best not to trip up, you eventually sat down at the dining table, a spot left open for you between Belphie--who was sitting up asleep--and Asmo. The demon of lust luckily didn’t seem to notice your weaker state, continuing on his tirade against his older brother. “Mammon, I swear to whatever forces may be listening that if you don’t get it back I will ruin you, you hear me?!” 

“Yeah yeah, you can try!” Mammon scoffed. 

Asmo spoke again, his words blocked out by the sudden ringing in your ears, the shrill noise spurring on pain behind your eyes. As you bit the inside of your cheek, you squeezed your eyes closed till the painful sound faded away. Only, opening them back up now seemed to make everything worse. The light was harsh, far too harsh, blinding rays striking off every reflective surface. Your vision started to swim, blurring the features of those around you. Squinting, you groaned a bit to yourself before lifting a utensil from the table, attempting to eat some of the breakfast in front of you before anyone became suspicious. Every bite sank heavily to the bottom of your stomach. 

“Will the two of you be quiet, for sin’s sake?!” Satan boomed, his wrath peeking through his composure as his brothers started to take their spat too far, interrupting what should’ve been a quiet morning. Although, when had that ever happened? Magic spilling from their fingertips, demon forms exposed, Mammon and Asmo were each ready to brawl it out at any moment. The ruckus finally managed to stir Belphie who was visibly irritated. 

The miniscule amount of food you had eaten started to already stir sickeningly within you. The sweltering heat you had felt before stripped away in a moment, a frightening chill creeping over your body. Before you could think, you got to your feet, breathless, heart pounding as an overwhelming presence of something agonizing forced you to move. Getting up too quickly caused the whole world to rock, your head doing somersaults. Lucifer obviously was now convinced everything was far from fine as you swayed on your own two feet, the legs of his chair screeching against the hardwood floor as he stood. Everyone in the room quickly went quiet, all eyes on you as you fumbled. The weight of their attention seemed to push you further over the edge. “It’s...I’m…” You needed to move, to be anywhere but here, so you staggered a few steps away from the group. 

You heard the thud before you felt it, not quite comprehending what it meant to feel the floor fall out from beneath you as the world shifted sideways. The area became a chorus of shouts as seven demons called out your name. You didn’t fully blackout. Your consciousness was too stubborn to be snuffed out like that, but you couldn’t fully talk or move either. 

A pair of arms wrapped around you, bringing you close to their body. Despite being right next to you, somehow everything still felt so far away, like you were experiencing everything secondhand. The smoothness of leather touched your cheek before the glove was supposedly discarded, cold skin touching your face. “They’re burning up,” Lucifer announced, the undertones of his voice just barely wavering, or perhaps your sense of sound was just as skewed as your sight had been. He flipped his hand over, his knuckles brushing against your forehead. You tried opening your eyes to look at him, but it was next to impossible. 

“MC?! Hey, what’s with you?!” Mammon shouted, two hands squeezing your shoulders. The panic in his words was apparent. “What’s wrong with them?!”

“I think they’re sick,” Belphie chimed. 

Satan sounded distant, but his voice still drifted to your ears. “Should I alert Simeon and Solomon?” 

Without warning, you sensed yourself being lifted off the floor, the sudden movement jerking the last strands of your consciousness back as you lurched into a black weightlessness. You swam through the fog, trying to pick back up the voices in the room. 

“...the human world to get a few things,” someone spoke. As you shifted your body, the people went silent, but not for long. 

“They’re awake!” 

“Thank heavens…” 

“Oi, everyone get off ‘em!” 

Somehow, you found the energy to open your eyes. There were no arms holding you and the dining room was far gone. You were now in bed, in your room, surrounded by demons, angels, and the only other human in the Devildom. The confusion of the blank spot in your memory shot panic through your nerves, not to mention it was uncomfortable to be stared down like this. “What…?” You gasped, trying to sit up in bed. A washcloth slid off your forehead and down your face. Someone’s gentle hands guided you back into a lying position, taking the rag and putting it back in its place. 

Lucifer had a chair pulled up to your bedside, lines popping up between his eyebrows in worry. He finished pressing you back up against your pillow, pulling the blankets back over your chest. “Don’t move too much,” he ordered, his words harsh but his eyes soft. “You collapsed in the dining hall.” 

Well, that part you could recall. They must’ve brought you here. Despite it only feeling like a second, you must’ve been out long enough for the other exchange students to arrive. “Is-” You interrupted yourself with some coughs, quickly turning your head into your pillow. Even just speaking left your lungs weak, but you had a question. “Is it…? 

“It’s not what the brothers had if that’s what you’re asking,” Solomon nodded. “You as a human couldn’t catch that particular illness. Although if you had, you probably wouldn’t survive. So lucky you, right?” Levi nearly dropped to his knees at that prospect, eyes wide with fear, as if he wasn’t convinced that you were lucky at all. You had to admit, you felt far from it. Many of the other siblings shot the sorcerer a dirty glare, everyone’s nerves strangely on edge. Solomon closed his eyes and laughed a bit. “Aha, but like I said, it’s a very mortal disease. Just a cold or the case of the flu from what I can tell.” 

“Just?” Mammon growled, barking out his opinions like an angry guard dog. “They’re lying here looking like they're two seconds away from pushin’ up daisies and you make guesses? You’ve been acting so calm and treating this like it ain’t that serious! And to be honest, it’s kinda tickin’ me off!” He took a few serious steps towards Solomon, shoulders squared, ready to fight. Luke ducked behind Simeon’s body for protection, but there was no need. Before he took things too far, Mammon growled and resumed his brisk pace around your room. 

“I hate to agree with him,” Asmo started, “But Mammon’s right.” The fourth-born frowned, some of his outward sparkle dulled with concern. Every hint of his and Mammon’s dispute had faded away. “This isn’t a joke! You have to do something, Solomon! Save them!” Asmo flung himself over the sorcerer begging and pleading, reacting as if you were on your deathbed. Mammon pushed a haughty breath of air between his teeth, turning on his heels to sit beside you on the bed. His nervous energy could hardly be contained, erratically adjusting the blanket over your body as one of his legs bounced up and down rapidly. 

Solomon shook his head, brushing Asmo off of him. “I was simply trying to lighten the mood.” You caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watched these powerful demons on the brink of falling to pieces. “If treated properly, it shouldn't be fatal. Plenty of monitoring and rest and the body should heal on its own. Of course if it worsens or persists, then a doctor might be required, but we can cross that bridge when we get to it. Although, like I was saying, it would be best if I went to the human world to at least get some proper medicine. We wouldn’t want our MC here to suffer the full brunt of the symptoms, and I doubt the remedies here would have a desired effect.” 

With that, Lucifer sighed, lifting his chin to address the sorcerer. “I shall accompany you to the human world. We’ll get what we need and come right back, understood?” 

Either the demon of pride’s stern glare wasn’t at its peak today or Solomon was generally unaffected. The sorcerer looked past him and right at you with a grin on his face. “He gets rather overbearing when it comes to you doesn’t he?” 

“We’re leaving,” Lucifer huffed, his arms wide to shepherd everyone out of your room. Several of his siblings cried out in protest. “Everyone out! The last thing MC needs is the bunch of you bothering them.” The only one he didn’t tug along was Simeon, the angel turning down the light and approaching you as soon as everyone had gone. 

A short laugh rumbled in his throat. “They sure do care about you a lot,” he smiled. He took Mammon’s previous spot on the bed by you, settled by your hip. He discovered the bump in the blanket that served as your arm under the covers. Slowly, he ran his hand up and down over it. “What a terrible thing for you to be this sick.” It wasn’t often the angel frowned, but in this case he appeared deeply troubled, as if he was taking your pain as his own. “I can help you fall asleep if you’d like me to. Solomon warned me against using too much magic against your weakened immune system, but I should be able to let you sleep peacefully.” He waited for a response, not moving forward with anything till you nodded your head slowly. Golden light rushed to the ends of his fingers, the soft skin of his fingertips brushing against your eyelids to close them. A shudder ran down your spine, your own body tingling, and you wondered if it was his magic or simply just the tender gesture. “Rest well, MC,” Simeon whispered. “Feel better.” And then just like he suggested, your mind quickly got swept along into a blissful sleep. 

Angelic magic or not, it didn’t seem to hold back the fever for long. Even in your dreams, all you could feel was frigid fire. Your nerves were fried, unable to tell if you were freezing to death or boiling. And the dreams...the images flashing in your mind of threats you couldn’t understand, dangers that filled you with panic. Someone was uttering words to you that you couldn't understand. All you could do was try to run, try to escape. Everything about you was screaming. 

Through the mist of sickness, you could finally make out the voice. “...gotta...can’t...help…” After a few moments of the whimpering and the distress, you were alarmed to figure out it was the sound of your own voice. But you couldn’t even feel yourself saying the words. 

“I’m here,” another person muttered past the darkness. “It’s alright…” The stranger shushed, trying to sound sweet to cover up the panic in their tone. “The one time I need that pompous jerk around and he’s gone. Figures.” You could hear a few pages being turned, a frustrated click of a tongue followed after. “Why didn’t I look this up before? Why wasn’t I prepared?” The anger from the other being in the room seemed to affect you. You thrashed a little, kicking your feet as if it would help push off the suffocating agony. Two hands clamped down on your shoulders, pinning you to the bed. “Calm down...Please calm down...I need to calm down.” Once you went back to being mostly still, more pages were turned. “Have the afflicted wear light clothing. I can do that.” A weight was shed off of you as the blanket pulled back. Air struck your sweat covered skin, sending chills down your body. You began to tremble. The front of your RAD uniform was tugged at, someone working at the buttons to shed the outer layer off your body. 

“...won’t...s...sor...is…hah…” Your speech was broken, and even if you knew what you wanted to say, your mouth wouldn’t let you. Someone took your hands, lifting your arm to let gravity help assist in removing the sleeve. You could feel it slip before fully crashing against the bed like a dead weight, free of the thick uniform fabric. The same was done with the other arm. Then a hand supported the back of your neck, lifting your upper body just enough until the extra layer was yanked out from under you. Removing the jacket had been like opening an oven. Heat from your body suddenly escaped into the room, no longer trapped behind unnecessary insulation. Even in your rather deranged state, you could feel your shirt sticking to your skin. Now you seemed to be shuddering harder.

“Hydration...medication...Curses, Lucifer, get back here...Nothing...there’s nothing here!” The individual grunted in a growl of vexation, a frantic flutter of paper soaring further away before something heavy struck the ground far from you. You managed to stop moaning, switching to feverish panting. Your company tutted at you again, stroking the top of your head tenderly. “Can you even hear me at all? Breathe, MC, breathe.” It’s embarrassing to admit it took you much longer than you would’ve liked to remember how to control your breathing. Once you took some deeper inhales, you heard your caretaker sigh in relief. “Good…Well, not good, but better.” 

Reality had sunken in almost completely now, just covered with a thin layer of dreamy haze. You cracked your eyes open, a mess of blonde hair and worried green eyes looking down at you. “S-Sa...tan,” you murmured. 

His hand stroked your head a few more times before grabbing the wet rag again and dotting it across your face. The energy you needed to retain consciousness was quickly fading. Satan’s hands grasped your face. “Hold on!  Look at me again, come on.” With every ounce of power you had left, you lifted your eyelids as much as you could. Still half-lidded, you only caught glimpses of his green sweater as he slid one hand under your back, lifting you up gently. Your head bobbed down, chin against your chest as Satan settled your back against your headboard. Gentle fingers lifted your head, some plastic brought to your lips. “You have to stay hydrated, drink just a little.” You wrapped your lips around the straw, sucking water into your body until you felt like you were going to be sick again. Satan moved to put the cup back down, and in that time he made the mistake of letting you go. Gravity tugged your body down, nearly slipping out of bed, threatening to fall to the floor. Thankfully, the demon of wrath was there to catch you. Head resting against his shoulder, you breathily let out a ‘thank you’ that was probably closer to a slurred series of sounds rather than a statement. 

His arms wrapped tightly around you. “Don...lea…ve...”

Then everything went black again. 

When consciousness flooded back to your mind, you had no idea how long it had been. Turning to your other side, you rubbed your head against the pillow. Everything was still much too warm. You slipped an arm under your heavy headrest, hoping to get to the cooler side. Your pillow twitched. Your pillow...was moving? Up. Down. Slow. Rising with steady breaths. You woke up, shifting enough in your spot to alert the person in your bed. Placing a book to the side, Satan rubbed one of your shoulders. Taking a moment to realize what position you were in, you felt your stomach flop once you came to the conclusion that you were lying against Satan’s legs, clinging to his clothes, hand against his lower back, head resting against his stomach. “You alright?” Satan wondered, pressing a hand to your forehead. You didn’t need to speak for him to know the answer. Not really. “I’ll admit, you had me worried for a while there.” He sat up fully, your head sliding back to your pillow--your actual pillow. You quickly retracted your death grip on him, hugging your arms close to your body. If there could be any more heat in your cheeks, there would be. 

Shame creeped into your bones. “S...sorry.” 

His expression brightened a small amount, pleased with the fact that you could speak mostly clearly now, even if your voice did sound ragged. He pulled the blanket back over your shoulders and up near your chin. “Don’t worry about that, just worry about feeling better.” He twisted his body, grabbing something off your nightstand again. “Here, have some more water. Everything I’ve read says that you need to stay hydrated at all times.” You dug your elbow into the mattress, lifting your head enough to not choke as you drank. As Satan lowered the glass, you noticed it was almost completely empty. You didn’t remember drinking that much. Exactly how delusional had you been earlier? How much had you forgotten? You downed the rest of the drink in small sips, lying back down when you were done. 

“Did…” You squeaked. “Did I do anything…” 

“Weird?” Satan finished your sentence for you. “So you don’t remember all of it, I take it?” You shook your head. “You started moaning, hyperventilating. Once you calmed down a bit you collapsed on me and refused to let me go. I figured since I was going to monitor you anyway I would…” A small blush formed on his cheeks. “Hold you till Lucifer got home.”

You looked away from his face, still a bit self conscious. You decided to change the subject. “He’s still gone?” 

Satan’s lips almost curled into a little snarl. “Yes. I have no idea why he’s decided to take his sweet time to-” He cut himself off short, clearing his throat and removing any traces of rage. “Don’t worry about him, I’m sure he’ll be home soon with the medicine.” You felt the top of your head being pet again, tempting you to close your eyes. “Until then, is there anything I can get for you?” You shook your head once more, allowing yourself to indulge in your impulses, moving closer to his body. Despite seeming mostly unaffected by the intimacy earlier, he took in a short sharp breath, lifting his head to the side to hide part of his face. His hand was near your face, tauntingly close, reminding you of how chill his skin was and how good it felt to have him stroke your head. You closed your eyes, bringing your head forward enough to bump against his wrist. A stifled gasp rang through the air before he took a deep breath. “It’s unfortunate that you had to be this sick to…” His sentence trailed off, his hand that you’d ran into pressed against your burning cheeks before brushing against your hair, running down the length of locks before starting again. “Conserve your energy,” he whispered. “Go back to bed.” 

“... … how are they?”

“...still feverish… …sleeping for a long time…” 

“I’ll take over… … get some rest.” 

Soft voices somehow roused you from your deep sleep, the final click of your door leaving you awake. You flitted your eyes open, immediately upset with how dry and crusty they felt. It didn’t help you feel any better when you noticed Lucifer by your bed, busy observing a small cardboard container. He was quick to notice you move, turning his head towards you as you wiped the grime from your eyes with the back of your finger. How embarrassing. Having to be sick, weak, vulnerable, positively distasteful, and in front of the people you thought highly of no less. Memories of Satan flooded back into your mind. Would they all think less of you after this? For how low you’d fallen? For how weak you were? You couldn’t let that happen. What had happened with Satan couldn’t be helped, but from here on out you would do your best to be independent. You adjusted to sit up. 

“What did I say about moving too much?” He scolded, his hand outstretched to settle you back down. You swept his gesture away, sitting up fully and focusing on the item in his hand. A regular box of human world medicine. You reached out for it, and despite being annoyed you’d swatted him away, he handed it to you. The tones of his voice casually shifted from his typical strict nature to low and sweet. “Is...this the one you need?” You glanced it over. Gel pills, daytime and nighttime ones, for cold and flu symptoms. You nodded. He seemed relieved. “It doesn’t happen often, but I was glad for Solomon’s help in picking the proper medicines,” he admitted. “Who knew humans needed so many medications? And you even have entire shops dedicated to them.” He shook his head as a deep frown formed on his face as if he just realized how fragile and complicated human bodies could be. You sighed, agreeing with him in your mind. You were thankful he managed to bring this back though, for as much as you hated proving he was right, you desperately wanted the medicine to ease your aching symptoms. You tried prying the flap open, annoyed when it refused to tear apart. From out of the corner of your eye, you swore you spotted the smallest smirk cross over Lucifer’s face. “Would you like some help?” You grumbled, turning your torso away from him as you attempted again to open the simple package. In slight sadistic fashion, he simply observed you struggle for another few minutes before you tore the box open. Even just working on that had you nearly breathless, but you scrounged up a little triumphant grin. Pulling out one of the bubble sheets, you settled the box back in your lap which Lucifer quickly picked up, returning to read the details printed on the back. “No more than four doses a day,” he announced. “You can take two of those pills now and then wait for four hours before you can take any more.” He read all that out with the confidence of a doctor who knew exactly what he was prescribing. “I want you to check in with me before you decide to take more, understood?” 

You desperately wanted to be snippy about it, but the energy for defense was long gone. Plus, you knew that he needed to have his hands on the reins at all times, and his stubbornness was especially bad when it was a situation he had no control over. “Okay,” you squeaked, pressing your thumb tightly against the foil backing until the pills were free. Dumping them out into your palm, you sighed to yourself once you spotted the empty glass of water from earlier. You’d have to go refill it. 

As soon as you pushed the blankets back and swung your legs out of bed to stand up, Lucifer tightly gripped your shoulders. Normally, he would’ve reacted before the thought even crossed your mind, but your actions must’ve stunned him more than usual. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

Wincing a little, you cleared your throat before you spoke. “I need water.” You tried to get back up, but your weakened strength was no match against Lucifer’s, and he was hardly trying. 

“Then let me get some for you.” Your lips parted to utter out a rebuttal but he’d have none of it. He grasped your ankles, pulling your legs back into bed and folding the covers back over the lower half of your body. He pointed a gloved finger at you. “You’re not to move.” He plucked the empty glass off the tabletop, striding out of your door before you could even try to argue. A low groan rumbled in your chest, your lungs convulsing out a few more coughs. By the time you got your breathing managed again, the demon of pride was back in your room, handing you a fresh glass of water. A deeper frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched ripples form in the liquid as your hand shook. Attempting to stabilize your hold only seemed to make it worse. He reached out, his intention to help you drink. Before he could, you popped both pills in your mouth and grasped at the cup with both hands as you brought the rim to your lips, watching his arm fall dejectedly back to his sides. Even the smooth gel coating went down rough, feeling more like two sharp stones scraping the inside of your esophagus. With your nose more stopped up than usual, by the time you were done drinking you were gasping for air, resulting in coughs again, hard enough to nearly make you gag. Lucifer took the cup from you before you could drop it, settling it on your nightstand. You were bowled over, tears streaming from your eyes. Rare panic crossed over Lucifer’s face, rubbing your back till the coughing fit came to an end. He took a deep inhale once it was over. Then he placed his touch over your forehead again, his thumb gently rubbing against your temple. When he retracted, you nearly let a little moan betray your feelings. You’re supposed to be independent, you reminded yourself. Lucifer shifted in his seat a bit, brandishing another item from his pockets. “We got one of these things as well,” he explained, taking the little item between his fingers and squinting to better study it. “He said it would be useful in monitoring your temperature, but...he failed to explain how it worked.” 

If you were feeling even just a bit better, you would’ve laughed. Lucifer took the thermometer and pointed the end towards your forehead, his eyebrows raised as he waited for something to happen, only to scowl when nothing did. You let a similar cocky expression coat your face as he was the one to struggle with something so simple this time. If only he knew he had the right idea but the wrong type. He’d gotten one of the older fashioned versions. “This kind goes under my tongue,” you explained. 

“Really?” He hummed. “How strange. Seems...messy.” He held the end close to your mouth, his face showing no signs of amusement this time as he waited. You hesitated, your heart beating faster at the emotions swelling in your chest. Independent, independent, independent, you repeated in your mind. Only, you’d caught him in a very impatient mood. With his other hand, he cupped it around your chin, carefully pulling your jaw down till he could slip the end of the thermometer under your tongue. You pressed your lips back together, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. The small device beeped once it got its reading. Lucifer pulled it out and brought it back towards him. “101.4” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair before settling the thermometer down, attempting to guide your body back down in a lying position. 

You stopped him, grabbing his wrist, eyes focusing on anything other than his face. “You don’t...have to do this.” 

He entertained you, fully capable of pushing you down should he desire it, but he let you keep him in your grasp. His eyes narrowed. “What thing in particular are you talking about?” 

Taking as deep of a breath your lungs would allow, you corrected yourself. “You don’t have to take care of me, I mean.” Words strained and cracking, they did little to convince the demon. “I’m well enough to take care of myself. Trust me, I’ve done it plenty before.” 

Distrustful and discouraged, he stiffened, tugging his wrist away. “Be that as it may, while you are down here you are my responsibility. It is part of my duty to ensure you are safe and well looked after. Do you expect me to just walk away from my role?” 

You’ll admit, it wasn’t very rational, but something other than the fever in you burned. “I’m not an assignment to be written off, Lucifer.” 

“You know I didn’t mean that.” His crimson eyes looked down at you for a moment, the air silent between you save for the faint rattling in your chest. Eventually, he spoke back up, the previous forbidding expression gave way to a small smile. He closed his eyes and chuckled a little, taking you aback. “When did you ever get so prideful? Is it too bold to assume it’s my doing?” Then his hand moved forward, unbothered by your past attempt to push him away. He brushed sticky strands of hair away from your face. “If you truly don’t want me here, I will leave.” Your chest seemed to flutter at his words. It wasn’t that you...didn’t want him there. It was that you did. Almost too much. If there was anything you didn’t want, it was to be a hindrance. You knew how busy Lucifer was. His trip to the human world had probably already doubled his workload, and if you were right they’d all  skipped classes for your sake, and- “MC.” He cupped your face, the look on his face told you that he knew everything you were thinking. “Not worrying about anything else, not overthinking it, do you want me here, yes or no? A simple question and two simple options.” 

“I…” You knew the answer, and he did too, trying to hold back his amusement until he could hear the answer for himself. “If...you...want to.” 

He shook his head in a defeated way. “You’re incorrigible, you know that don’t you?” With your acceptance, he took your shoulders, letting you lie down. He took the rag that had fallen off to the side, gently brushing it across your face. Under your eyes, over your cheekbones, under your chin. Then he leaned forward, his upper body resting against your bed, his head propped up under one of his hands. He gazed at you, tracing your jawline with his knuckle. The skin across his cheeks turned a light pink. “Of course I want to be with you. Not a moment goes by that I don’t desire to be at your side.” 

The fast acting medicine and the fact that you’d been so distracted by his peaceful touch, you’d totally missed what he’d told you. “Hm?” You sleepily hummed, too focused on how close his body was to yours. 

“Nothing,” he mused, making sure you were secure under the covers. “I’ll tell you once you’ve recovered. Sleep now.” 

The muscles in your body slowly woke you up, screaming at you to change positions after having slept like a stone for Diavolo-knows how long. Eyes still closed, sleep still foggy on your mind, you turned over in bed. However, even with the smallest amount of alertness you possessed, you were very aware of how...generally upsetting your body felt. Soon it was all you could focus on, forcing you awake. Groaning, mourning the comfort of sleep, you slowly stretched out your weary legs. Your feet pressed against a foreign lump in your bed. 

Mammon shot up, uncurling himself from the foot of your bed as he apparently woke up from a nap. “MC!” He crawled forward, placing both of his hands on the side of your face. “How ya feeling?” His sudden energy left you a bit winded, still trying to comprehend him caressing your face so tenderly. He let his arms drop to your shoulders. You shifted under his gaze, shaking your head. 

“Like garbage…” Hot, sweaty, gross, you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. Mammon frowned, his blue eyes wide and shimmery. He resembled a puppy for just a second, observing your face for any sort of hope that by some miracle you’d fully recovered. When he saw you were still the worst for wear, he sighed, grabbing the covers around you and tucking it against your legs. Only, the blanket wasn’t one that you owned. Running your hands over the fabric, you noticed that this was one of Lucifer’s blankets. It was lighter and cooler than the blanket you had on before. You took in the rest of your room for a moment, noticing more than one thing out of place. Mammon had been resting on one of Belphie’s pillows, one of his new expensive ones. In fact the pillow you had been sleeping on was replaced with one of Sloth’s. On your nightstand, near your box of medicine and a box of tissues was a little diffuser, one you recognized as Asmo’s. A small plume of steam flushed out of the top, a mild comforting scent spreading throughout the space. A book that wasn’t yours, a replica of some sword draped over your table, and a number of other things that had never been between your walls before were littered here and there. You tilted your head. “Where did these things come from?” You wondered.

Mammon lowered his eyelids, his hands on his hips as he settled into a more comfortable seating position beside you. “Listen, my hands get grabby sometimes when I get anxious.” 

You simply blinked at him. “You were worried?” 

His sincere expression changed as he frowned, pink touching his cheeks as he shook his head. “W-well of course! Lucifer would make sure I never saw a lick of Grimm again if something happened to you…” His voice turned to a lower mumble. “And what, you thought I wouldn’t be worried after watching you take a spill like that? Had me thinking you’d bit the dust for a second!” His eyes flickered around the room as if he was making sure you two were truly alone. Then he leaned past you, fluffing up the pillow you had been laying on. As he straightened, he pressed his hand against your forehead, his body temperature much warmer than Lucifer’s. “Never make me that worried again, yeah? I...You see...Just don’t, okay?” 

You hummed an affirming tone, nodding, a small smile creeping across your mouth. Then after the moment had passed, you shifted in your spot. You felt disgusting even after all that effort to take a shower this morning. Lucifer did say not to move too much, but right now you wanted to be clean more than anything. Pushing back the blankets encouraged a similar reaction to Lucifer’s earlier. 

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing?!” Mammon scurried to his feet, standing in front of you with his arms wide to block you from moving, even though you had yet to even leave the bed. “Bed rest means staying in bed last I checked!” 

“Please, Mammon, I just want to take a shower, I’m grimy and gross. I feel like an over-steamed dumpling.” 

“Don’t let Beel hear you say that.” You managed to stand up, but your sense of balance left much to be desired. On instinct you ended up grabbing Mammon’s shoulders to keep from falling over. “Alright, nuh uh, you can barely move! What if you end up falling and cracking that head of yours open, huh?” Your mind was brought back to your morning mishap and near tumble in the shower from before. “You’re lucky you didn’t injure yourself too badly earlier!” 

Your eyes widened. “H-how did you know about that? I don’t remember telling anyone.” 

His eyebrows raised. “I’m talking about the dining hall, dummy. But now that you’ve let that little detail slip there’s not any chance I’ll let you go now! No way.” He put one arm under yours to keep you steady, ready to keep you back in bed for good. 

Gathering up what little energy you had, you took several deep breaths, gently pushing yourself away from his body until you were standing on your own, just barely stable. “Mammon, please?” It had been your goal up until now to look as far from pathetic as possible, yet now you poured all that into your expression, eyes pleading, head tilted a bit to the side. 

He squirmed. “Tch, you think you can do whatever you want just by giving me some puppy-eyes? Who do you think I am?”

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I bet Asmo would let me take a shower. Maybe I should call him and have him take care of me instead.” 

“Asmo?! I...you...fine! But I’m c-coming with you, to make sure you stay safe and all.” 

You lowered your eyes at him. “You can stay outside the bathroom.” 

“I’m not payin’ for a busted door if I need to break in. I’m going inside! I’ll just turn around or somthin’.” 

He stared you down with a nature stubborn enough to match your own. In your state now, you had little time to squabble. “Fine.” You started walking, leaning against bits of furniture to keep you steady. Acting rather gentlemanly, Mammon rushed ahead of you to open your door. Once he did, he took your arm tucked against his in a sort of escorting fashion. Saying nothing, you both took steady silent steps to the bathroom. You were immensely pleased to find it unoccupied, leaving Mammon’s side to step in. Like he promised he would, he followed you inside, shutting the door before his cheeks turned dark with embarrassment. He turned, parking himself in a corner with his face to the wall. 

“I-I’ll be right here in case something happens, alright?” For him to come this far for you was...The added heat rushing through your body only caused you to feel worse, so you flicked on the water to heat up as you stripped. As you were taking off your pants, balancing on one leg, you teetered to the side, nearly falling. The tub right next to you served as your saving grace. You panted, cursing at yourself for being so clumsy. “You alright?!” Mammon clasped his hands over his face before turning around. “MC?” Riddled with nervous anxiety, he danced back and forth on his feet. 

“I’m okay,” you wheezed. Just barely. You planted your foot against the fabric of your pants, tugging your other leg out. “Just keep looking at that wall.” You questioned the idea of him being in here at first, but now you were beginning to have little trust in yourself. What if you did collapse, locked, exposed inside an empty room till someone came looking for you? You shuddered. Climbing into the shower, you pulled the curtains across the rod until you were completely concealed. You let out a breath of relief as the steam once again cleared up your airways, the pressure building up in your head loosening. Shutting your eyes, you let the water wash over you, cleaning off the sticky sweat that had clung to your body. You simply stood there for a few moments, appreciating the serenity. Then you figured it would be best to get yourself clean while you had the capacity to. Reaching down for the soaps you used, you washed your hair and vigorously scrubbed down your body, envisioning all the germs swirling down the drain. Although by the time you were done, you became aware of the fact that you might’ve made the water a bit too hot, and you might’ve once again pushed yourself a little too far. Nausea came along with the dizziness, the floor losing it’s feeling of solidity. After you turned the water off, you tore the shower curtain back, stepping onto the bathroom mat. 

“You done?” Mammon asked. Right now, all you could do was grunt in response. The small burst of energy you possessed had plummeted. You bypassed the towels and straight for your clothes. Only, the clothes you had been wearing previously were gone. On cue, Mammon explained. “Oh I got you some pajamas. Not good to be lying in those same clothes all day, besides, I got you something comfier.” Folded up on the floor by the tub were a comfortable pair of your pajamas. Pushing aside your humiliation, you picked up the “pajamas” he’d picked out for you. One of your shorts and...one of his t-shirts. It was one he had bought on a whim, much like most of his other purchases. Merch from an action movie you and him had watched in the theaters a while ago. He loved this thing. You could only stare at it for a few seconds. Mammon was right, these would be much nicer to sleep in. 

With a meek voice you started slipping into the new outfit, still dripping. “T-thank you.” You had hardly finished poking your head through the shirt before your knees began to tremble. Your head felt foggy, your mind threatening to slip. “M-Mammon,” you gulped, your voice shaking. 

He spun around, eyes squeezed shut. “What? What is it? Are you bleeding? Are you hurt? Are you dressed? Can I look?” As soon as you ‘mm-hm’ed he flashed his eyes open, took in the sight of your shuddering frame before hurrying over to you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head for a moment, the world disappearing as you plummeted to the floor. You woke up in his arms hardly a few seconds after your fainting spell. Held tightly against his body, he wrapped his limbs around you, supporting you to keep you upright. “Hey, hey!” His voice shook as he squeezed you. “MC!” 

“ ‘s too...hot.” 

“Stupid human…” He muttered, his rugged tone falling short. “And you’re still drenched! Are you trying to make yourself even worse?” When his sharp remarks were met with your silence, he pulled you closer. “Ah...Really not good, huh?” He asked softly, one of his hands rubbing your back. You could only slowly shake your head. “Let’s get you back to bed, eh?” He brushed some damp hair away from your face before he dragged you out the door, his distress growing ever more visible the more you seemed to slump harder against him. It felt like an eternity inching back to your room, flopping facedown onto your bed as soon as it was in your sights. The mattress bobbed up and down, the movement surprisingly soothing, almost lulling your body to a light sleep right then and there. “Alright, come on. It’ll do you no good to fall asleep like that.” Mammon helped lift you up, letting you settle your head against his body, arms wrapped around his neck as he worked to get you back under the covers. He tucked you in, moving about the room nervously the less responsive you became. Shutting your eyes to conserve some energy, you listened to him curse under his breath, grumbling to himself about “fragile humans”. At some point, a dry fabric came into contact with the top of your head. You were pushed slightly to make some space for him to sit down. He adjusted you till your head was in his lap, the fabric massaging against your wet hair. “Stupid human…” He repeated, softly scrubbing the towel against your scalp. “Why’d you have to go and get yourself sick, huh?” 

“...didn’t...mean to...I’m sorry…” 

The motions across your head stopped, then you felt the back of his hand stroke against your cheek. “Now don’t sound like that...Do you know how much it hurts me to see ya like this?” He paused and then resumed ensuring your hair was as dry as he could get it. “Don’t you worry, the Great Mammon will be right here for you till you feel better, alright?” His voice sounded strained. “So ya better get better…” You cracked your eyes open, pushing yourself up. “What’re you doing? I-“ He quickly cut himself off as soon as you settled yourself between his legs, head against his chest. You could hear his throat casually gasp for breath. His nose came down to nestle against the top of your head, his arms dropping the towel, instead wrapping around your body. “Don’t do this for anyone but me, ya hear? Only I...only I want to take care of you like this.” He pulled the blanket up around the both of you, his soft breaths growing deeper and deeper. Eventually you both fell asleep. 

Your mind was flooded with more fever dreams, clips and scenes of moments your conscious mind wouldn’t even know how to explain. It blurred the line between what was real and what was simply your imagination, so in the moment, when you were disturbed from your sleep, you didn’t even react. Your body was moved, flipped over, weightless, moved from the soft surface you were on to something firmer. You could only process it for a mere second before you were plunged back into a nonsensical plot your frayed mind came up with. After what felt like some time, you were just barely awoken again when harsh and hushed whispers buzzed in your ears. 

“They shouldn’t be down here!” 

“So cute! I mean, poor thing.” 

“Are they still asleep?”

“Take them back.” 

Once you realized that this was real, you slowly became aware of more things around you. As tired numbness left your limbs, you felt your arms pinned against your body, something around you constricted your movement. Panic struck you for only just a second, feeling that your blanket was simply wrapped around your body. You figured in your restless state you must’ve trapped yourself inside it. An involuntary groan escaped your mouth as you squirmed a little, moving your feet in an attempt to feel an escape. 

Something outside of you moved you, tugging you tighter against something firm, a pressure rubbing circles into your back. It soothed you enough to keep you from struggling, but you were steadily waking up. The “wall” you were against vibrated as a deep voice rumbled out of it. “I just thought...it wouldn’t feel like a family dinner without them.” Your body was adjusted again, lifted to be propped up against what you now understood was a torso. One strong arm kept you still, draped against your back. 

“S-surely you can’t hold them and eat at the same time, Beel,” someone muttered. “Why don’t you let your big bro hold em?” 

The body holding you tightened around you, shielding you. “No.” 

“Don’t underestimate him.” 

“Should we wake them up?” 

“Don’t humans heal faster when they sleep?”

Someone else let out an exhausted breath. “Fine, but they’re to be put back in bed once you’re done.” 

The chest your head was against hummed with satisfaction. “Got it.” Soon, quiet but eager eating noises could be heard outside your muffled prison. If you connected the dots correctly, you were resting against Beel who had brought you down to dinner while you had been asleep. Was this a brief glance into what Belphie felt like? Albeit with more comfort and less...pain. Although he’d probably beg to differ. Right now, you couldn’t even pinpoint where the source of your suffering was coming from. It just seemed to be...all over, even down to the tips of your fingers. Even if you had wanted to move, you didn’t have the energy for it, so despite being almost wide awake at this point, you stayed in place. You tried to focus on anything else to keep your mind off the aching. Beel’s heart sounded like a distant drum. Burying your face closer against his body, you let out a small whimper, focusing on the melodic thumping of his healthy heart. You could even hear the pace speed up as your cheek pressed up against him. 

“Beel, you alright?” 

The sound of eating stopped, and a clink of something metallic against glass sounded before a second arm enveloped you, a hand settled at the back of your head. “I’ll eat in a little bit,” Beel whispered. 

“In a--” 

“Shhhh! Shut up, Mammon!” 

“I mean…” The voice returned to barely audible. “Whadda sayin’ ‘in a bit’? You’re not sick again are ya?” Beel didn’t grace anyone with a response. You were gently squeezed in his hug, a weight coming down on top of your head, presumably his chin. The hand behind your head moved to the space between your shoulder blades, moving up and down in rhythmic strokes along your spine. It was uncanny, you thought, how he almost immediately knew how desperate you were for some comfort. Or maybe he was just perceptive like that. If anyone would be, it would be Beel. 

“How are they feeling?” Someone asked. 

Cooler air poured against your face as the space left for you to breathe was made wider. Light from the dining hall illuminated outside your eyelids. Beel’s hand pressed against your forehead, moving down to cup your cheeks. Out of everyone, he always ran the warmest, bordering on nearly being a walking furnace. And yet even he moaned in unease, his stomach groaning alongside him in worry. “Still too hot,” he announced. You allowed yourself to flicker your eyes open, looking up at him just as he moved his hand away. Both his eyebrows raised in surprise before he quickly frowned. “Did I wake you up? Sorry.” You figured that now that everyone knew you were up, it would be time to move. Sitting up straighter in your spot, you wiggled one of your arms out of your cocoon, pulling the fabric of your blanket off your head, letting it settle around your waist. You rubbed spots out from your vision, blinking as you soaked in the sight of the room. 

Asmo politely dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin, settling it back in his lap before addressing you with the sweetest pair of eyes. “Good evening, darling! How’re you feeling?” 

You had half of a mind to try to play the “I’m fine” card, but with your fit with Satan and fainting scare with Mammon, it would be no use to even try to pretend you were fine. So you didn’t see the harm in being honest. “Like I’ve been to hell and back.” 

“You are in hell,” Belphie quipped. 

“You know what I mean.” You turned your head and glanced up, your heart pounding more prominently when you once again realized just how big Beel was compared to you, an otherworldly size. Sweeping away your embarrassment, you started tugging at the blanket to free your legs, moving to leave his lap. “Sorry, Beel.” 

His hand grabbed one of your wrists. “What do you mean?” He tugged at you, repositioning you firmer in his lap. “You didn’t do anything.” His beautiful amethyst irises stared right into yours. “I wanted you here. Meals aren’t the same without you.” He pat the top of your head, letting his fingers scratch gently into your scalp. In most situations, you’d find your open vulnerability to be embarrassing, but right now you couldn’t care less. You leaned back into him, nestling your nose into his chest, using his body to block out the light. Beel gripped the blanket and pulled it back up to settle around your shoulders. 

“Speaking of meals,” Lucifer started. “It’s about time MC had something to eat.” 

Satan spoke up. “Do we even have anything decent enough for sick humans to have?” The brothers went back and forth for a while, bringing recommendations hypothetically to the table about what would be best for you. 

“Belphie knows the most about humans, what do you think?” Beel wondered. 

A lone monotone hum rang out for a moment. “I think it was stew or something like that.” 

A strange bout of irritation drilled in you. You turned your head, addressing the group. “You know you could just ask the human right here. I might be sick but I’m not completely helpless.” 

Brusque tones usually granted you grating glares, but even Lucifer seemed to give you a pass. “So?” The eldest questioned. “Tell us what you need and we can get it for you.” 

Something about that knocked the rebellious wind out of you. You lowered your head a bit and sighed. “Don’t even worry about it, I’m not hungry anyway.” A bold statement to claim whilst sitting in the lap of Gluttony. 

Shaking you lightly, Beel squinted at you. “You’ve barely eaten all day.” The expression on his face turned Lucifer levels of stern. It wasn’t an appearance he took too often. Even now you knew this was a losing battle. A flash of a memory popped up in your mind, one of when Beel had been sick. You pressed your lips together into a thin line. 

“It’s fine.” 

“It’s not.” 

“Beel--” 

“MC. Eat.” His flat tone trembled throughout his body, sending a shudder through you. Lucifer was always strict, so it never caught you off guard, not anymore. But when Beel got this way it pierced through everyone in the room. As if they’d been the one commanded, everyone took a single bite of their meal. 

You gave in, your stature shrinking. “Fine...something light then. Soup’s fine. I’ll go get some…” 

Beel’s arms wrapped around you again, keeping you to him. “No you won’t. Levi.” 

The third-born almost yelped, sinking down into his seat before stuttering. “S-sure, I-I’ll get it…” As he headed to the kitchen you could hear him grumble. “Of course he had to pick me. Why me? It’s always me…” You felt a bit sorry for the otaku as he slunk away. In fact you almost felt sorry for everyone in the room. Even just alluding to the skip of a meal had Beel suddenly tense, on alert. He had you held against him in a guarded manner, his torso bent forward to lean over what he could of yours. He didn’t settle back down till Levi came back in a handful of minutes later, resting a bowl of soup in front of you. It was of human origins you assumed, it looked like regular chicken noodle. The aroma had bits of nostalgia bubble within you. And now that it was here, you hated to admit that you actually were hungry. 

You reached over to try to grab a spoon, falling just a bit short of the table’s edge. Beel’s arms were admittedly much longer than yours, not needing to sit as close as you usually did. Beel grasped a clean utensil for you, getting a decent portion of stock in it’s dip. He held his other hand under the spoon to make sure he didn’t spill any, then he brought it over to you. Did you try to deny it? Maybe a little, but Beel’s spine-chilling glower had you reconsider. You opened your mouth and let him feed you. The hot broth slid down your sore throat easily, relieving some of the pain. As it warmed you up from the inside, Beel finally went back to smiling, everyone breathing in relief. “See, doesn’t it make you feel better?” Beel brought a new spoonful to your lips. 

You swallowed again and admittedly nodded. “A bit.” 

Out of the blue, Beel brought his face down, planting a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Some of his siblings gasped, but if the demon of gluttony heard it, he pretended he hadn’t. His free hand went back to rubbing your back, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t nice, the many sensations driving some of the pain from your mind. “Good,” Beel beamed. “Remember, your body needs fuel to keep going.” 

“I know…” The parallel between now and when he had been sick was almost perfect. Beel took the bowl in his hands, bringing it over to settle in your lap, keeping it steady in his hold. “Isn’t it hot?” You asked, worried he’d burn his skin. 

“Not to me,” he assured you. 

You sighed, taking the spoon from him so you could eat yourself. “Thank you for always looking out for me, Beel.”

You expected him to be pleased, but he quickly turned downcast. “I couldn’t protect you from this.” Heart breaking, all you could do was stare down into your lap, watching the broth gently swirl in the bowl. This had mostly been your fault. If you had done something just a bit differently, maybe…

“No, Beel, that wasn’t your fault,” Belphie spoke up, pushing his plate with his leftovers on it closer to his twin to finish. “Besides, it’s your job now to take care of MC now more than ever, right?” 

Beel turned his head away from the food, peering down at you in his lap. He nodded once, bringing his head down to press his forehead to yours. “You’re right. Sick or not, I’ll always watch over them.” 

After dinner, Beel carried you back up to bed, reluctant to let you be free of his arms, but he managed. After giving you one last once-over and another little kiss to your temple, he hurried back down to the dining hall. After all, he was far from having his fill of food. Lucifer had followed the two of you inside, taking your temperature once more. 100.7, still higher than he’d prefer it to be, but glad to discover it had gone down even if just by a hair. He allowed you to take some medicine and urged you to get some more rest. Flicking the light off, he wished you sweet dreams before he left, torn away from you by work he couldn’t ignore. Although, even with the comfort of your bed and the satisfying feeling of something warm in your belly, for the first time, slumber eluded you. It wasn’t that you weren’t tired--exhaustion might as well have been your permanent state at this point--but shutting your mind off, drifting away into peaceful bliss didn’t seem like an option right now. 

You spent a few hours on your D.D.D. scrolling through posts and web-pages, anything to keep you occupied. Although, that eventually bored you after a while. You sat up, trying to not let the loneliness of your empty room consume you. Had everyone gone to bed already? Had you already gotten used to falling asleep with someone beside you? That couldn’t be the case, right? You slowly got out from under your covers, padding over to the door. Maybe if you walked around the House of Lamentation enough, you’d be able to go to bed. You were feeling a bit better, capable of moving around on your own at the very least. You entered the empty hallway, the midnight moon rays creeping across the rug settled across the stone floor. The branches outside the windows cast twisted shadows across the corridor. Some people might’ve found it dreadful, but whether it was your own stranger tastes or the fact that you’d been down here so long, you found it to be serene in a mystical sort of way. 

Drifting through the halls like a weary ghost patrolling the perimeter, you wandered past each of the brother’s rooms. The house was surprisingly still. Before you knew it, you ended up in the music room. Shifting your feet towards the gorgeous ebony piano, your fingers brushed lightly over the ivory keys. Pushing down a low B, the note reverberated through the room, your skin tingling at the broken silence. It quenched some of your boredom. So you pushed another one, the lowest note this time, the deep tone rumbling through you. 

“Having fun are we?” 

You jumped, every hair across your body standing up on end. Swirling around, you met a pair of ruby eyes in the shadows. A string of curses left your lips. “What in hell’s name are you doing, Lucifer? Nearly scared me to death…” You pressed a hand to your beating chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You sunk to your knees, the wind knocked out of you. 

He stepped further into the light, arms crossed, almost fuming. “I could ask you the same question. Once again I have to wonder, what are you doing out of bed? Are you that determined not to recover, is that it?” Hair slightly messy, well-tailored pajamas barely creased, you figured he must’ve just gotten out of bed, possibly disturbed before he could fall asleep. It would explain the death glare he was giving you. 

“I...couldn’t sleep,” you answered truthfully, followed by an innocent little shrug. 

With two fingers, he pinched at the bridge of his nose. “And so Levi just let you waltz around on your own?” 

You tilted your head. “Levi?” 

Something dawned on him with your confused question. A terrifying smile arched over his face, the corners twitching as the small amount of light in the room was snuffed out by his menacing aura. “Leviathan…” Yelping at the sudden movement, Lucifer hoisted you over one of his shoulders, gliding across the floor at a ridiculous pace until he was in front of Levi’s room. You wiggled, beating a gentle fist against Lucifer’s back. 

“Let me down!” 

He let you slide off of him, settling you back on your feet, but he quickly grasped one of your hands to keep you to his side. Despite his furious demeanor, he gently knocked on the door, waiting for approximately two seconds before knocking harder. “Levi!”

You heard the otaku approach his door before he swung it open. “What?! I’m in the middle of a very important raid! What could you possibly need--” The entrance to the room cracked open, Levi sticking his head out before all the color drained from his face. The tangerine hue of his eyes flickering from you to his older brother, the demon with paper-thin patience. Levi gulped, the little bump in his throat bobbing.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but didn’t I inform you that you would be keeping an eye on MC tonight?” The higher lilt in his question was laced with hostility. “Or maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” You felt a pang of guilt for the demon of envy. 

“Lucifer,” you urged, tugging at his hand which kept you in a vice grip. “I’ll go back to bed, it’s not an issue.” He was ready to blow a gasket, the weariness of dealing with work and keeping his brother’s shenanigans at bay without your assistance clearly was affecting him. Who knew he’d come to depend on you this much? You reached up, rubbing his shoulder with the sweetest look you could come up with. “Please, don’t be angry.” 

Shutting his eyes, squeezing your hand, he gave himself time to breathe. “MC, rest. Levi, take care of them. And no, I’m not asking.” The dark circles under Lucifer’s eyes almost seemed to run blacker, his irises duller than they should’ve been. 

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” you comforted him. “Go get some sleep yourself.” 

His shoulders sagged ever so slightly. “The sick shouldn't be fussing over the hale and whole, you know, but I will. I shall see you tomorrow.” He brought your hand up, kissing it before he let it go. “And, Levi.” The demon of envy flinched, hoping that he’d been forgotten. “I’ll see you tomorrow as well.” 

Levi hung his head low as his older brother walked away, preemptively sniffling at his possible doom. “...and my raid is ruined…T-this is just the worst.” You were a bit sorry for Levi for being thrown at you like this, but you couldn’t help but wonder in the back of your mind if he...had forgotten about you. You watched the outline of Lucifer disappear into the darkness before you shivered. The temperature inside the house was dropping. “Huh?” Levi snapped out of his pitiful thoughts. “Are you-are you cold?” 

“A little…” 

“O-oh, I guess...maybe...Would it be alright if you stayed in my room tonight?” His stance shifted behind his door, anxiously moving his gaze around to keep from making direct eye contact with you. 

Sighing, you nodded. After all, with the adrenaline crash, you doubted you had energy left to walk back to your room. “Sure.” 

He let you in, shutting the door behind you and locking it with a magical charm to keep the riff-raff out. He scurried over to his tub-bed, pulling out some random plush collectibles, and letting them rest against the floor for now. He spun on his feet for a moment, taking in his room before bringing his thumb up to bite on the nail of it. “Y-you can stay anywhere, I have some blankets I guess...Gah! Why did Lucifer have to make me watch you?” The heart in your chest sank a bit, and you lowered your head, a small “oh” leaving your lips. Clutching his hair, Levi immediately regretted what he said. “No! No no no no, that’s-that’s not what I-I-I--” He stuttered for a good while, unable to grasp proper control of his tongue. “Wait, wait!” Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he picked up one last Ruri-Chan plush from the bed, covering part of his face with it. “I just...I don’t remember the last time I took care of someone sick…Knowing me, I-I’ll somehow make you worse! What-what if I’m forced to make a split second decision that could be the-the difference between life and death?! I’ll end up killing you! Living the rest of my life in isolated drunken regret!” 

He quickly spiraled down a slippery slope of what-ifs, a dramatic fantasy playing out before him where he’d been cast out of the Devildom as your murderer, a disgusting vagabond, living on wildberries and wildlife with naught but his loneliness and shadow to keep him company. His rising anxiety was making him hyperventilate. You had to come over to him, gently take his shoulders and shake him slightly, dragging him back to reality. “Levi, I highly, highly doubt it will come to that. When Lucifer means ‘take care of me’ he mostly means making sure I have what I need.” You gave the sides of his arms a little rub. 

“But I don’t know what you need!” 

“Well, what I need right now is for you to calm down, first off,” you told him, dropping your hands back to your sides, gripping the end of the tub. Climbing into his bed had never really been an issue before, but hoisting yourself over the edge proved difficult a task. You felt his shaky hands come under your arms, hoisting you enough till you could sink yourself into his nest of pillows. You grinned, thanking him as you reached up to rub the top of his head. “See? Stuff like that, nothing too difficult. Fetch quests and escort missions. Easy mode. I’ll be here, just do your own thing.” 

That seemed to ease him enough. He gripped one of his blankets and pulled it over you, moving back over to his desk. Muttering about the raid, he clacked at the keys, his mood steadily improving the more he lost himself in the world of gaming. You felt at the fabric of your pants, remembering with a small moan that they didn’t have pockets...meaning you’d left your D.D.D. in your room. Figures, you thought. So, in your last ditch effort to stay entertained, you moved Levi’s pillows around, making a small wall to prop yourself against, peering over the top of the basin to stare at his screen. You watched his character move around, fighting random enemies. He was completely absorbed, lightly talking to himself as he moved along, humming the victory theme anytime a quest was completed. At one point, he was paying too much attention to a beautifully fleshed out character model to notice what they were telling him, information that he needed to know but missed out on. After that, he was sent towards a boss that ended up instantly killing him when it finished charging up its “claymore of chaos’ move. Levi tried one more time, then three more times, and then about twenty. “What the heck?! How am I supposed to beat you?!” Levi finally shouted, pushing himself slightly away from his desk. 

Speaking up for the first time in a few hours, you shared with him the information he missed. “You’re supposed to use your Mystical Missile spell.” 

He jumped, almost falling out of his chair. “I thought you were asleep!” 

“I still can’t sleep…I don’t know why.” You pulled your blanket tighter around you, peeking at him from your spot. A blush ran over his cheeks, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Oh...Really? Mystical Missile? But it’s a trashy beginner spell.” 

“That NPC lady said it would work, I dunno.” You shrugged. “Try it out, it can’t hurt.” 

So he did, removing one of his high level skills to equip the basic one. Severely doubting success, he entered the boss arena again. It was admittedly tense, keeping you both on the edge of your seat. Once “claymore of chaos” was building, Levi let the spell fly towards him. The boss staggered, a crack forming in it’s armor. “It worked!” He shouted, yelping as a new flurry of enemy spells flew towards his character.  If it was entertainment you were looking for, you found it, cheering him on as he hunched over, focused on his every move. Once it went down, you both whooped and cheered. It had been a bit too much for your lungs, dissolving into some coughs. Levi rushed to his feet, rubbing your back. “You okay?” 

You nodded, letting your body shudder with a few more hacks till it was done. Voice more hoarse than before, you still smiled at him. “You did it!” 

A laugh bubbled out of him. “Victory! Dun dun dun! Legendary item acquired!” Then his expression fell for a second. “Have you just been sitting there, watching me the whole time?” You nodded. He gripped one of his hoodie sleeves. “Would you rather do something...together?” 

You brightened. “Sure!” 

Giddy, he hurried over to the computer, picking up his loot before saving the game, closing the program. “If you’re in the mood for watching something, how about this new anime I found? I’m only a few episodes in, but I can start over! It’s called ‘I Transferred To A New School, But Everyone There Is Part Of The Elite, So I Have To Try And Keep Up With My Classmates Despite Me Being Normal, But I Accidentally Fooled The School Into Thinking I’m A Long Lost Heir To A Forgotten Throne’.” 

Blinking, you stared at him. “You lost me at Elite.” Why the Devildom had anime with titles the length of chapters, you’d never know. 

“It’s good! I promise!” He shifted his monitor so you could see it from your spot easier, turning the anime on with an elated aura, much nicer than the gloom-and-doom one from earlier. This was the Levi you loved to see, the one you tried to cherish as much as you could. He sat in his chair, scooting back till he was beside you so you could watch it together. It was a cute anime, something mostly a slice of life, a normal main character in a school setting surrounded by powerful beings, the plot moved forward with magical shenanigans...something about it sounded familiar. One of the episodes showed the main character fallen ill under some strange circumstance, their roommate they stayed with flustered but determined to take care of them. The friend--and obvious love interest--asked if he could hold the protagonist’s hand. Levi made a little noise. “MC, c-can I hold your hand? I mean, if that’s super weird don’t even listen to me because who would even want to hold hands with me anyway and--” 

“Sure,” you smiled, reaching your hand out from the blanket a little. 

He hesitated for a second and then took it, resuming to watch the show. Much to your amusement, any move the character made, he made as well, taking it as if it were some sort of guide. He brushed the hair from your face, made sure the blanket was tucked gently around you, ensured you were comfortable. Then, the friend in the show made a bold move, snuggling next to the main character as they both fell asleep. Levi went stiff, becoming extremely flustered. You had to admit, the concept was...enticing, and you almost leapt at any opportunity to tease envy. You tugged at his hand, making him look at you with your arms outstretched. If this had been an anime, he would’ve collapsed, his soul flying from his mouth. But even Levi couldn’t resist the temptation. He stepped into his bed, slowly, warily at first. He let you take him into your arms, wrapping his own body around you as you both squeezed together in the tub. “I...I...This is...a dream…” 

You chuckled, settling your head on his chest, feeling his motoring heart pound in his chest. “Let’s watch some more, Levi.” Only, you hardly remembered anything after that. For shortly after he curled against you, the strange barrier keeping you awake completely collapsed. He had draped the blanket over you both, fidgeting with the hair at the nape of your neck. You must’ve turned your head against him, comforted enough by his presence to fall asleep.

“Medicine?” 

“Right here.” 

“Water?” 

“You brought me like a gallon’s worth.” 

“D.D.D.?” 

“You can see it in my hands.” 

Lucifer went down the list, the actual written list he’d come up. You sat in bed, trying hard not to blush and squirm under the many gazes in your room this morning. “Extra blankets?” 

“I have everything and anything needed to last an entire week in solitary!” You shook your head, a little irate at each of them, but appreciating their concern all the same. Icepacks, blankets, snacks, water, bandages, and many other things were brought in your room in preparation. “You all are only going to a Student Council meeting, not off on some lengthy business trip.” 

“Absolutely right!” Asmo shouted, sitting next to you in bed, hugging you to him and caressing your cheek against his. “It’s some stupid meeting anyway, which means one of us can stay can’t we?” 

Every member of the household was already shouting reasons why they and they alone should have the opportunity to stay with you. Lucifer’s little vein above his eyebrow throbbed. “Enough!” The room went silent. “As much as I would love to permit myself to stay home,” he cleared his throat, “not a single one of us can miss today’s meeting. Which is why I’m taking every precaution. EDP?” 

You gently pushed Asmo off of you, raising an eyebrow. The demon of lust pouted, stroking your head instead. “What’s an EDP?” You asked. 

“An EDP is a short term we use for an Emergency Defense Pillar,” Satan explained. “A popular and fairly new little device in the Devildom, especially for lesser magic users or those who aren’t trained in combat.” 

“I’m still at a loss,” you admitted. “Is it like a baton or something?” 

Rummaging around in his pockets, Mammon brandished a small black object. It was cylindrical, about as big as a lighter, a glowing red button on the side. “I brought it! Now, let me teach you, human. If you’re being chased or cornered, this handy lil’ doodad is going to be essential if you wanna escape. You just push this little button here, and--” 

Lucifer’s chest tightened. “Mammon, don’t!” 

The second born pressed the button, his mistake just now clicking in his mind, chucking it a bit in front of him. Asmo grabbed you and tucked you against his chest, pushing your back to the wall while he shielded you with his body. Every other brother hit the floor, jumping away from the object. A huge pillar of fire sprouted from the object, swirling blue flames emitting intense heat as well as a roaring sound. It nearly burnt your eyes. Asmo tucked your head into his shoulder, waiting until the fire was suddenly sucked back into the small container, rattling against the floor. Your protector pulled away from you, letting you stare at the pitch black circle burnt into your ceiling and floor, a round chunk taken out of your carpet, some fibers still flickering. Lucifer came over and snuffed out the singed pieces with his shoe, the vein in his head more prominent. He was about to shout but you beat him to it. “That’s absolutely unnecessary! In what scenario would I need to use that?! Is there even a safety on that thing?!” 

A little sheepish, Mammon picked himself back up off the floor. “Well, you’ve gotten the best visual example you can get. You’re welcome.” 

“I don’t want it, someone take it with them,” you groaned. “What if I end up accidentally getting flame-broiled in my sleep?”  

Beel closed his eyes. “Flame-broiled hell bats…” 

Lucifer bent down and picked up the EDP from the floor. “Perhaps this is a bit too dangerous.” 

“Glad we can see eye to eye on that one…” You tapped the screen of your D.D.D., noticing that the time to the meeting was rapidly approaching. “You guys have fifteen minutes! Stop worrying about me and get out of here!” 

Many wide-eyed demons scrambled to get out your door, knowing that the punishment for being late was not something they wanted to risk. Even Lucifer was rushed, booking it out of your room. Then he popped his head in. “You’ll call if anything happens?” 

“Yes.” 

He left again, the door shutting. It burst back open, his overprotective nature coming to light. “You have your alerts on, right?” 

You chuckled, you couldn’t prevent yourself from doing so. “Yes, mother hen, now go!” He growled, but this time left for good, the uproar from the group slowly fading away. Once more, you shook your head, staring at the charcoal colored circle against your ceiling. “They’re insane,” you stated aloud. 

“Truly,” someone replied. You yelped, chucking the closest pillow at the sudden voice. Solomon caught it, laughing. “Sorry for startling you. The demons are gone, I’m assuming?” He walked back over, handing you your plushy ammo. 

“They just left. Why are you here?” You took the pillow from him, settling it in your lap as you crossed your legs over your mattress. 

He pulled an upset face. “Why do you sound so suspicious? I’m here to check up on you. I had to make sure those demons were taking care of you properly.” He grabbed a chair from your table, scooting up by the bedside. He spotted the hard-to-miss burns and sighed. “Maybe I should’ve gotten here sooner. Oh well, an easy fix. Spirits of twine and stone, turn back the time to whence this matter was well known, heed the Sorcerer Solomon!” Flowing restorative magic rushed over the floor and ceiling, soaking into the atoms, leaving it as perfect as it had been earlier. Actually, almost better than how it had been before. Not even the smell of burning remained. In a small flourish, he stretched out his hands. “Ta-da.” 

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “And the brothers have been taking care of me just fine. I don’t have a fever anymore.” 

He reached his hand out, thumb brushing across your face, he hummed to himself before pulling you gently, pressing his lips to your forehead. You gasped a little, covering your mouth as your face burned. He sat back, nodding. “You feel much better.” He caught your expression, trying to stifle a smirk. “Hm? I was simply taking your temperature.” 

Composing yourself, you tightly gripped the pillow in your hands. “Kinda an old method, don’t you think?” 

“I prefer traditional practices,” he shared. “But that wasn’t the main reason I came over.” 

“Oh?” You’ll admit, at first the EDP had seemed utterly ridiculous, but in this dreaded scenario, you almost wished to have it in your hands. Solomon pushed back his cloak, reaching behind his back and pulling out a fresh steaming plate of food. Already you felt sweat bead across your face. “A-ah, how nice of Simeon to make me something.” It was more of a personal wish, although you knew that it wasn’t going to be the case. 

“Not Simeon, actually. I made it!” He beamed, completely oblivious. “How long has it been since you’ve had a home-cooked human meal?” 

“N-not too long ago actually, and-I-um-the brothers made sure to feed me before they left so-” 

“Surely you can have a few bites, right?” He pleaded. “I made sure to add all kinds of ingredients I know have some healing properties, so I’m sure it’ll enhance the flavor. Here, no need to waste extra energy, let me feed you. Say ah.” 

“MC!” The sound of someone frantically calling your name in the distance slowly brought you to. “MC!” Something snapped as you moved, pain coursing through your entire body. You opened your eyes, not able to see much through the leaves. Wait...leaves? The smell of earth and roses rushed to your nose. That and the thorns trapping you and piercing you were enough to tell you what you needed to know. You were somehow entangled in a rose bush. The voice sounded again, closer this time. “MC, where are you?!” 

Audio recognition kicked in, able to place the voice. Tilting your head back, you put all the power you could into your shout. “Belphie!” There was silence for a while, and white hot panic settled in your stomach...or maybe that was. Oh that was right…

Suddenly the leaves were pulled back, Belphie’s head staring down at you. “This is new for you.” 

You tried to move, but your clothes were stuck in the thorn’s clutches, not to mention any movement you made drove the bush’s claws deeper into your skin. “I…I think I’m stuck.” 

“Wow, that really sucks for you.” 

“Belphie!” You tried sitting up, a sharp pain in your cheek causing you to hiss, drawing in breath through your teeth. Something drifted down your cheek, the taste of bitter copper coming across your lips. Blood. “P-please help me.”

“I was only joking. Don’t move, you’ll make things worse.” He tugged at some of the branches, the disruption poking you some more. Tugging at your sleeve, he detangled your shoulder, working on your lower arm next. 

“Ow, ow, ooooow,” you whined. 

“Don’t be such a baby.” Leaning down a bit too far, one of the thorns pricked him right in the thumb. He cursed, threatening to leave you alone once you laughed. “You’re really scratched up…” He frowned as he gestured to many thin red scratches across your body. You whimpered again, reaching up at him to tug you free. Sloth kicked in, his impatience to take his time fluttered away. He basically flattened the bush with his feet, breaking the twigs stuck to you with his hands. His arms wrapped around your torso, tugging you up, the sound of some fabric tearing as he did. He sighed, taking you a few steps away from the bush before letting you slide past his arms, flopping to the soil. He came down to kneel beside you, grabbing thorns and leaves out of your hair, rubbing a thumb over the small wound on your cheek. “When you wonder why we worry about leaving you alone, this is why. How long have you been napping in bushes?” 

“I…” A sudden chill overtook you, your stomach and the food...you remembered the food Solomon had fed you. The taste...torture. You could feel it in your throat. 

“MC?” You pushed Belphie away, scrambling on your hands and knees to another unfortunate set of flora. Without nitty gritty details, let’s just say your body had the smart idea to not keep Solomon’s food in you any longer. Trembling, you coughed up the last of it, cold sweat dripping down your face. Belphie’s hands touched your back. “You’re not going to be sick on me, are you?” You didn’t respond to him, trying to catch your breath. He mumbled, pulling you into his lap. Covered in dirt and sweat, you curled into him, shivering. Then the both of you watched in slight horror as all the plants planted around your...expulsed poison all wilted at once, almost crumbling to dust. “Wicked father of demons…” Belphie breathed. “What the hell did you eat?” 

You only needed to utter one word for him to understand everything entirely. “Solomon…” 

“Dear Diavolo…I’m lucky to have found you alive.” He whipped his head around. “He’s not still here is he?” 

You shook your head, rubbing at the saliva on your lips. “I don’t remember...I don’t remember leaving my room…I don’t remember…” 

Working hard to get to his feet, he lifted you along with him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs against his body, groaning into him. “Alright, I guess we’re doing this now.” He held onto you, sidestepping past the destroyed flora and towards the house. “I’m just telling you this now though, if Solomon is still here, I will leave you.” 

Reaching up his neck, you grasped tightly onto some of his hairs. “I will drag you down with me.” 

“Confident words for someone I’m carrying like a baby,” he snickered, but he let the witty back and forth drop as he entered the house. For a moment, he stood still, taking in the air of the place. “I think we’re good,” he announced, but continuing to take wary steps up the stairs. He picked up the pace in the hallways, sneaking away towards the familiar spiral staircase that led it’s way up to the attic. The doors he pushed open were heavy in more ways than one. Quietly shutting it behind the two of you, he headed over to the bed. A jolting ticklish pain raced down your body as Belphie jabbed his fingers against your waist. “Off, parasite.” You relinquished your grasp as fast as you could, flopping onto the attic mattress. You crawled up, sliding under the covers, planting your face into the nearest pillow. Right when you thought you were recovering, you were back to being bed-ridden. Belphie left you alone in silence for a minute. When he came back, you had to take a moment to realize he had ever been gone. He was stealthy like that. He dropped a small first-aid kit as well as a bottle of water on the blanket. “Come here.” 

“But I-” 

“But I,” he mocked. “But I don’t care. I need to look after some of those scratches.” Huffing, you dramatically threw the blanket to the side, coming over to sit in front of him. Taking the water bottle in hand, you gratefully moved to take a hearty swig to wash down some of the acid. Belphie grabbed it from you before you could. “Not for drinking.” He twisted the cap off and pulled out a small clean washcloth from his pockets. He pressed the fabric against the opening and tilted the bottle up, getting the rag slightly wet. He then pressed it against your cheek. “We don’t want these infected.” Slowly, he dabbed at each of your shallow scratches, making sure they were clear of dirt. Once he was done with that, he shoved the remaining water at you. 

“I don’t want your rag water.” 

“Fine.” 

But the acidity in your mouth was grating against your teeth. You snatched the bottle from him, swallowing some grateful gulps to cease the gentle burning. Belphie had a mild cocky expression, wiping away the blood. Closing an eye due to slight stinging, you watched his concentrated face. “So…” You started, watching him soon open the box and remove a small tube of medicated ointment. “Why’re you home?” 

Squeezing a small amount of the clear gel on the tip of his finger, he started applying it to your cleaned wounds. “Oh, I snuck out of the meeting.” 

“Belphie!” 

“What?” He took one hand, grabbing your face for a second, squishing your cheeks, mimicking the way your lips pursed. You shook him off, trying to keep yourself from being flustered. “Can you blame me? All I could think about was you...nice and warm in bed...and I was sleepy.” He let out a large yawn. “Still sleepy.” 

“Well…” You paused for a second, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m glad you did.” 

He stopped for a second, looking into your eyes. “Hm? Say that again?” 

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you furled your eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“Are you suuuure?” He drawled. “Cus it sounded like you missed me.” One look at your embarrassed face sent him laughing. He poked at your ribs, tickling your sides, singing the words. “You missed me, you missed me.” 

Burying your face in your hands, you kicked him a little. “Stop it!” 

“Fine,” he smirked. “Anyway, I think you’re mostly taken care of. Most of these have dried and scabbed over. They weren’t very deep anyway.” He lifted your arm, turning it to make sure he’d treated you completely. “So now we can do what I came here for!” It was his first excited expression in a while. He jumped into you, grabbing you by the waist against the bed. Both your heads hit the pillows, the blanket following shortly after. Already you could feel his face against your back. A happy hum of his buzzed into your skin, his hands rubbing against your stomach. Pouting a little, you realized that with Belphie stuck to you like this, you weren't going anywhere soon, so you shifted to get comfortable. You relaxed with a heavy sigh. “You know…” Belphie drowsily muttered. “I...missed...you too…” 

“MC! My poor precious MC! I’m never ever leaving you alone again!” Asmo wailed, clinging to you like if he let you go you’d suddenly die. “I can’t believe Belphie did this to you!” 

Speaking up from the corner, Belphie scoffed. “I actually helped them, just so everyone knows.” Back in your room, each of the demon brothers had returned from the meeting, having found you and Belphie after a while in the attic. Of course, your small wounds, Belphie’s absence, and the strange destruction of a segment of the garden was called into question. 

“And my plants!” Asmo shrieked. “They were such a lovely background for my Devilgram posts! They’re ruined!” 

“I’m so-” you tried to apologize, but Asmo pressed a gentle finger against your lips. 

“Shush! I don’t blame you a single bit, my darling. It’s all these ruffians!” He kissed your cheek in spots around your little wound. 

“Hey! Solomon’s the person responsible, not us!” Mammon shouted. 

Lucifer’s weariness was especially noticeable today. You wondered what he had to put up with at the meeting. “At the very least, we’re glad you’re safe, MC. Knowing what Solomon’s cuisine is capable of…” He pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I’m heading to my office...try not to burn the house down,” he sighed, exiting quietly. 

You tilted your head. “Is he okay?” You asked. 

“When Belphie left, let’s just say Diavolo wasn’t exactly pleased,” Satan explained, a wicked grin stretching his lips wide. “So in exchange he agreed to be Diavolo’s personal servant tomorrow. I hope our Demon Lord has some entertaining things in store.” 

Belphie’s face brightened. “Did I do that? Whoops.” Hardly a glimmer of remorse in him. 

“You guys owe it to him at least to try and make it a calm night,” you urged, hoping to ease some of the shenanigans already being plotted in their minds. 

Mammon shook his head. “Why do we gotta owe him anything? If he’s out for the count tonight, I can hit the casinos without a problem!” He came over rubbing your head. “Give me some of that luck, yeah?” You doubted you had any, but he bounded out the door. 

“Belphie, I’ve got a little idea I’d like to try, but I need an extra set of hands. Care to join me?” Satan curled a little finger around his chin, mischief making his green eyes glow wild. 

Belphie chuckled. “Ab-so-lutely.” With devilish grins, they both sniggered, malevolent whispers drifting between them as they left. 

A rumbling growl echoed through the room. If this had been anywhere else, you would’ve been terrified. But this was the Devildom, and you knew Beel’s stomach when you heard it. “Oh...I’m sorry, MC, but I’m starving. I’ll see you in a bit.” He came over, trying to give you a hug despite Asmo still holding onto you for dear life. He ended up hugging both of you anyway. With more than a little speed, he also left your room, probably heading straight for the kitchen. 

A high pitched ‘bling’ reached your ears. Levi pulled out his D.D.D.. “Oh! The new patch for Sorcerer’s Scrolls has been released! I gotta go!” He moved to run but stopped in his tracks before he got too far. “Do you wanna...watch more of that show tonight?” 

“Sure, Levi,” you smiled, watching him sprint out of the room, a joyful spring in his step. Although, once everyone had left, you couldn’t help but lower your head, patting Asmo’s wrist. “You can leave too, Asmo, you don’t have to stay with me.” 

He made an overly dramatic gasp. “But I do! Don’t sound so sad!” Pulling a bit away from you, he let his cheeks turn a bit pink. “And to be completely honest, I’ve been dying to get some alone time with you.” He squirmed a little bit, but then jumped to his feet. “So! You just sit there and let Nurse Asmo take care of everything, ‘kay ‘kay?” Is that why he had brought that large bag with him when he came in? It was a peach-colored tote bag, settled on your table, a fluffy pink pom-pom clipped to one of the handles. He bounded towards it, rummaging around, looking for something important.

A little--well a lot--guarded against potential Asmo intentions, you tried craning your head to see if you could look inside, but no dice. The end of your nose tickled again as it had the past few days. Grabbing another tissue from your bedside, you tried to blow your nose as quietly as possible. Your poor nostrils were so dry by this point it was bordering on painful. You sniffled, reaching over to squirt some hand sanitizer in your hands. “I thought you hated being around sick people,” you told him. 

“You’re the only exception! Besides,” he grabbed out a familiar tool, one you had no idea how he got his hands on it. A stethoscope. “I want to use all these goodies Solomon got me!” 

The name still almost sent a shudder down your spine. “Solomon? Why?” 

Practically skipping back over, he sat beside you on the bed, strangely excited about this. “Aren’t bodies fascinating?” He touched his own skin, dragging his hand down his neck. “I love to know what makes this perfect body run! And you have absolutely no idea how desperately I’ve longed to know how yours does too!” Taking a good look at him, you could sense that he was truly and undeniably curious as to how your mortal body differed from his. Or possibly just craving a closer look into you altogether. Of course, you still had to close your eyes and deeply sigh. How many times would Solomon be the source of general chaos? Asmo took the end to the stethoscope, looking at it strangely. “Tell me, dear, how does this work?” You let out a light chuckle, and he looked at you curiously. “Don’t make fun of me, that’s just mean!” 

“I’m not! I’m not, I promise, it’s just…” He resembled that of a little kid right now, a rare sort of innocence about him. Here he was, a demon of many millennia, and he just wanted to play doctor for a bit. “Never mind.” Brushing off your thoughts, you took the binaurals, putting the earpieces in his ears. One of his hands gently clutched the diaphragm, so you wrapped your own hand around his, guiding the end of the stethoscope to your chest. 

Listening it to a moment, you could watch the gentle awe cross over his face. “T-that’s you.” 

You brought a hand up to cover your mouth. “Yes, Asmo, that’s me. What, you didn’t think I had a heartbeat?” 

“No, I knew! It’s just…” He closed his eyes, going silent. You didn’t want to disturb his moment, but you felt a sneeze coming on. Grabbing another tissue, you covered your nose, tilted your head down towards your lap, and sneezed. Moaning a bit, you blew your nose again, hard enough to make your ears pop. Sitting up, you chucked your used kleenex into the trash. You were about to apologize, but then the glee drained from Asmo’s face. He brought his hands up to his mouth and shrieked. 

“What?! What’s wrong?!” As soon as you had asked, the answer presented itself towards you. Warmth dripped down your lips, forcing you to close your mouth as fast as you could. 

“Blood! You’re bleeding! Hold on!” Lurching towards the tissues, Asmo pulled five out at a time, pressing it against your face. You pinched your nose, pressuring your hand against the bundle of kleenex. “Look at all this! No, no, no, no, you’ll be alright, darling.” Your gut instinct was to tilt your head up, but Asmo placed his hand on the top of your head, tilting it slightly forward. “Oh, don’t do that, you’ll end up swallowing it. Stay there, I’ll be right back.” He got up sprinting, leaving you alone with the smell and taste of blood. When he came back, he had a cold wet rag in his hands. “Here, use this instead. Give me those,” he softly ordered, tugging at the already blood soaked tissues. You took the rag in your hands, using that to stop the flow instead. He pulled you into his arms, rubbing your back. “Poor thing, it’s just non-stop problems for you right now, isn’t it?” You let him hold you, tilting your head against his as you waited for the blood to stop.  Slowly, he brought his hand up to pet the back of your head, giggling a bit to himself when the action made you shiver. 

After a bit of time, you tore away from him, cautiously removing the rag. You touched just above your lip, sighing in relief when it had stopped. “That was unexpected.” 

Stealing the cloth from you, he started wiping the excess blood off your face. “About gave me a heart attack!” With his free hand, he cupped the side of your face. 

A little idea crossed your mind. “Heart attack, huh? Better check that out.” Reaching for the stethoscope, you cleaned the earpieces before putting them in, pressing the small round medical disc to his chest. It was a bit stunning, you had to admit, how loud it sounded. In the human world before, any mentions of demons or angels were always in an ethereal sense. Whether you believed in them or not, you never really thought about them having hearts. Were they even similar to yours? At least...the drumming beating sound of life was the same. 

He finished up cleaning you off, tilting his head and grinning. “Well?” 

“Undeniably alive...and I’m very grateful for it.” 

He squealed, flopping onto you, pushing you both down onto the bed. Every hint that he had been frightened before was gone. “Aren’t you just the sweetest?! Come here, you!” He littered kisses over your face, sending you into a little flurry of embarrassed titters. 

“Asmo…” 

“Isn’t it a human saying that they can kiss the pain away?” He pecked his lips over your eyelids. “Well, you better prepare yourself...I won’t stop kissing your perfect little face till you feel better!”

The bedroom door violently swung open, the handle nearly making a dent in the wall. Demons poured in, nearly falling over each other. They were all in demon forms, ready to tackle more danger. When they noticed that Asmo was fawning over you, they all puffed up, jealous and irritated. “We heard you scream and thought something happened!” Lucifer roared. Kinda late, weren’t they?

“Hey, why’re you getting all kissy with MC?!” Mammon jumped onto the mattress, trying to pry you from his brother’s arms. 

“Don’t you think I deserve to be embracing them?” Satan attempted to push them both aside. Before you knew it, your room was a small war-arena, everyone climbing on the bed. You were squished between them, passed between different hands. Then something wobbled, the sound of wood and metal groaning before a loud snap pierced your ears. The bed hit the floor, a poof of dust causing you to cough. Your bedframe lay scattered in broken pieces across the ground. 

“My...bed…” You ran a hand through your hair, pinned under the doggy-pile of demon lords. You looked between each of them with stern looks, each of them blushing in embarrassment over their actions. “Well...I guess it means I’ll be using someone else’s bed for the foreseeable future.” 

All at once, their faces lit up, and at the same time they all shouted the same thing. “Me!”

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #tw blood #tw medication #tw vomit

[maddiwrites]

The Hybrid (I)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: Thank you for being patient with me as I slowly write this series. I had this idea a long time ago and I’m not finding motivation to write it but the inspiration comes and go. I smile with every comment that is left on my fics and I’m so grateful for this community. Thank you for letting me pursue my creative writing without judgement. Love you guys! (Also, yes. If you didn’t see my last note, I based YN’s family off of the Gilmore Girls characters. That’s who I picture as them.)

Word Count: 8k

 Masterlist   Prologue 

You wake up to someone falling on your bed next to you with a dramatic sigh. Knowing exactly who it is, you choose to ignore her and try getting back to the dreamless sleep you were peacefully having before you woke up.

That is, until she sighs again. 

You flip onto your back and stare up at your ceiling fan that’s quickly spinning above you. “What, Rory?”

“How did it go with Andre and that boy?”

You look at her with one brow raised. “You woke me up to hear about Andre’s love life? That hardly sounds like you. You don’t care about high school drama or hookups.”

“You’re right,” Rory says. “But I thought I would ease you into what I actually need to tell you.”

You turn on right side and look at your sister confused. “What?”

She sighs. “The cafe’s basement flooded last night. Mom needs us there to help her clean up and take inventory on what’s salvageable.”

You turn back on you backside and close your eyes, exhaling a deep sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately not,” Rory says and pats you twice on your covered thigh as she sits up. “Come on. I made you pre-cafe coffee. It’s sitting in the kitchen.”

You throw your sheets off of you and trudge to the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face. It’s about 8 a.m. At least you were able to get about six hours of sleep. 

Last night, it was hard to let your brain rest to fall asleep. You kept tossing and turning, thinking about the blonde Pogue who walked you home. You missed how easy it was to talk to someone who you felt truly knew you. Your banter rolled off your tongue easily and you never had to worry about offending him because you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew what he could take and what he couldn't. 

Talking to him brought back childhood memories you had hidden deep in your mind. How JJ would constantly poke you until you ripped into a smile on days that were grey. How you used to steal John B’s bandanas until he was chasing you around his house to get them back. How you would draw a mustache and a unibrow on Pope’s face when he fell asleep by the water. 

Those days felt like they were decades ago. So far away, you didn’t know if you’d be able to reach for them again. If it was even possible to get back. 

You thought about texting him. Thanks for walking me back. We should all get together soon! You had written out. But then you deleted the whole message, telling yourself it was because you didn’t know if he even had the same number. But deep down, you were just afraid of the rejection. 

Its been about three years since the four of you had been together in one place. You don’t know what they’ve been through or if they’ve changed. They for sure as hell don’t know what you’ve been through. You don’t know if they're dynamic has changed. Clearly you and JJ can still joke with each other but what about John B and Pope? You heard about John B’s father disappearing at sea, most people believing he’s dead, but John B holding onto hope that’s he’s alive. You always thought about calling him to reach out and offer your condolences. But for the same reason you didn’t text JJ, you never called. It didn’t feel like your place. They had Kie for that now. A little part of you felt jealous of her, like she had replaced you and any memory of you. She seemed nice, but she wasn’t you.

“Ready?” Rory pops her head in to your room as you slip on a cropped plain white zip up jacket over your cropped black tank. 

“As I’ll ever be,” You say and snag the car keys out of her hands. “Don’t even think about it. I’m driving.”

Rory rolls her eyes. “I want to get there safely.”

“And I want to get there quickly.”

“Fine. But we’re taking my car. It actually has doors.”

For your sixteenth birthday, your grandparents gifted both you and Rory your own individual cars and even let you pick them out. Rory chose a black 2020 Honda Civic for it’s safety features and reputation for longevity as if she was planning on handing it down to her future kids. And you picked out a white 2020 Jeep Wrangler with a hard top that pops off along with the doors for a very open and thrilling ride. Everyone but you called it a death trap, but you found it to be the perfect summer car. 

You park Rory’s boring Honda Civic in the back of the cafe in a lot used specifically for employees. The cafe is already booming with teens and families, waiting for their morning coffees and fresh pastries. Kids your age are running around behind the counter with sweat dripping down their brow bone to get everyone’s orders out in a timely manner. 

In the back of the store, your mom walks up the steps from the basement with two large trash bags and immediately notices the two of you. “Oh good. You’re here. Rory, help the girls behind the counter. The dishwasher’s broken and poor Hailey is hand washing everything. Y/N, come with me downstairs.”

“Why does Rory get the fun job?” You grumble and follow your mom back downstairs after she tosses the two trash bags. 

“Because she’s actually nice to the customers.”

“Treat others how you would like to be treated. Isn’t that what everyone always says?” You smirk. You never agreed with the phrase ‘the customer is always right.’ It’s complete bullshit and being the employee shouldn’t mean letting yourself getting verbally abused by a ‘Karen’ on the other side of the counter. 

The basement is used for the cafe’s storage, lined with wooden shelves Steve put together that hold to go cups, back up espresso machines, boxes of coffee and food and ingredients, etc. Now all the boxes are dark and sopping, creating puddles on the concrete floor. 

“Oh my god. Mom. How did this happen?”

“Jenky water pipe busted in the middle of the night,” Steve walks down the stairs and passes your mom a knowing look. It didn’t surprise you that he was here. He’s the jack of all trades. Owns his own automotive shop, builds a lot of his own furniture, actually cooks a decent meal, and has the same outlook on customer service as you do. He was probably your mom’s first call. “Talked to the plumber. They can’t get here until at least noon.”

“Noon? We’ll be underwater by noon. I might as well turn all my employees into a swim team,” Your mom says.

Steve shakes his head. “I was able to hold the leak until he gets here. You should be fine.”

Steve was the first person that actually helped your mother out when's she moved to the Cut. Six months pregnant, she pushed her car into his automotive shop after it broke down on the side of the road. Their banter was similar to the one you and JJ have. He helped save your mom money by building yours and Rory’s cribs, changing table, and dressers. And ever since, the two of them had been connected by the hip, although they both refuse to admit it. You think the pair are just trying to deny the love they clearly share for each other. And you think the main reason for that is because of the incident four years ago with your mom’s ex boyfriend. No thanks to you.

 “Look at you constantly building your resume,” You smirk at him. 

Steve scoffs. “It’s more than what you’re doing.”

You roll your eyes. Steve is the closest thing you have to a father. He practically helped raise you with your mom. He’s the one you turn to whenever a fight with your mom goes too far, which isn't too often but it happens. He usually lets you stay at his house for the night to let you cool off. But he’ll never sugar coat his advice when it comes time for him to give it. Even if you don’t ask for it. He knows growing up with Rory has been challenging. She was clearly your mom’s favorite, or at least that’s what you thought. She has a 4.0 GPA with a realistic dream to get into Brown University and study journalism. She played by every rule, never got into trouble, and spent most of her free nights getting ahead of her school work or staying late at the cafe with an open book from the library across the street. She was an absolute angel to everyone else, making you look like her evil twin. 

You glare at him before turning to your mom with crossed arms. “What do you want me to do, Mom?”

“Actually honey. Can you go to Heywards and grab more coffee filters and napkins. The water soaked right through the plastic wrapping on our last box.”

You nod, leaving your mom and Steve to clean up the basement themselves. Before heading out, you sneak behind the counter and make yourself a quick coffee to go.

“Where you going?” Rory asks as she reaches behind you to grab a banana for her customer at the register.

“Heywards to grab a couple things for Mom.”

“Oh. Make sure to grab toilet paper while you’re out. I think we’re almost out of it.”

“Got it.” 

Heywards is only a short drive from your mom’s cafe. It’s the closest convenient store that isn’t crazy pricey. It’s where your mom gets all her supplies whenever she runs out of things before shipment gets there. 

You use to always come here when you were younger with the boys, each of you, even Pope, stealing a small bag of chips or a candy bar here and there. Little did any of you know, Mr. Heyward caught your thieving hands every time but never said anything. 

The bell above the door chimes when you walk into the store. You know this place as well as you know the cafe, finding the toilet paper and coffee filter immediately. 

When Mr. Heyward looks up from the counter, his smile grows. He can pick you out of a crowd anywhere, but he hasn’t seen you in a long time. Last time he saw you, you had braces and overgrown bushy brows. Now you had bushed hair and shaved legs. 

“Hi. Mr. Heyward,” You grin shyly at him. You don’t know how he’s going to react to see you, unsure of what Pope might have told him about you. 

“Little Miss Y/L/N? Is that you?” Heyward smiles widely, pulling your own lips into a wider smile. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy with school and my mom’s cafe...” Both of those things were a lie. You just avoid the Cut to avoid the Pogues. 

“How’s the fam?” 

“They’re good,” You say as Heyward hands you your bags. “Mom says hello by the way. I’m actually taking these to her store now.”

“Well, don’t be a stranger. We miss your smiling face around her. Anette, too.” Heyward says, mentioning his wife. 

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Of course, darling.” 

Heyward and Anette always had a special place in their heart for you and Rory. They’re not one for gossip, but they knew a little bit about what your mom’s been through and have heard plenty of stories about your grandparents. They always thought, despite your mom’s background, that you and your sister were raised impressively. Anette always hoped that one day Pope and Rory would get together. Everyone always wanted their child to be with Rory. 

As your about to leave the store, the bell chimes again with another customer. Only it’s not another customer. It’s Pope and John B. They don’t see you at first, and you wonder if maybe you can sneak out without them seeing you. But something about that felt wrong. Especially because Heyward would more than likely mention to them that you were here. 

Pope sees you first and stops in his tracks. “Y/N?” 

“Hey, guys. Long time no see,” You smile at both of them. You bite down on your lip awkwardly when you meet John B’s stare. You don’t know if you should mention anything about his dad’s disappearance. But what would you say? Sorry? What good would that do?

“How’ve you been?” Pope gives you a small side hug, then John B. 

You shrug. “You know, living the dream.”

“How’s life as a Hybrid?” John B smirks. 

You roll your eyes playfully and groan. “Oh god. Never call me that again.”

You may be considered a Hybrid by everyone else, but you would never put yourself into that category. You grew up a Pogue, the same way everyone else did around you. The only thing tying you to the Kooks are your grandparents. 

“Why?” John B smirks. “I wish I was a Hybrid.”

You smirk back. “Maybe you will be one day. I hear you have a Kook of your own for arm candy.”

You saw a faint hint of blush on John B’s cheek at the mention of his girlfriend but you don’t mention it. “Sarah, yeah. She’s not like the other Kooks.”

“I would hope not. Her brother’s a dick.”

“Yeah,” They laugh. 

“We miss you, you know.” John B says. Pope looks at you, trying to read your expression. John B’s not wrong. They do all miss you, especially Pope. He felt like you were the only one who really understood him. Of course his other friends are great, but you actually took the time to try and understand his passions. Like forensic science. 

“I miss you guys too. It’s been a while.”

“Well, hey. We’re actually all getting together tonight at my place. Nothing big. Just a bonfire and a couple beers. You should stop by,” John B says.

“Yeah,” Pope says, immediately getting hopeful that you’ll show up. 

Your smile falters. The invite makes your heart swell and your lungs contract. It’s an invite you’ve been wanting for three years. And now that you have it, you don’t know what to say. It’d be different if it was just the four of you like old times. But now there’s Kie and Sarah and although you have nothing against them, you’re afraid they won’t accept you. The thought of your boys picking them over you terrifies you. 

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll try to swing by later.” 

Pope smiles wide and looks at his friend to see his reaction. John B grins and nods, almost impressed that you had agreed. But he saw the twitch in your lips when the question was asked. 

“Great. I guess we’ll see you later then.” 

You nod. ���Okay. Bye guys.”

You suck in a deep breath when the fresh air outside of Heyward’s store brushes over you. Your heart thumps wildly with both excitement and nerves when you’re finally able to collect your thoughts. You don’t know what you’ll do tonight, but the possibilities can change your entire summer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You spent the rest of the day mopping up the cafe’s basement and rearranging the shelves. You smelled of sweat and coffee grounds by the time you were done and dreamt of the shower you would be taking when you got home. 

Rory drove you home after the two of you closed up the cafe for the day. Neither of you said much. Rory was exhausted from running around behind the counter and you were too busy thinking about whether you’d go back to the place you used to call your second home.

You took a longer shower than usual, still pondering what your night would be like. Your head was telling you to stay home but your heart pulled you in the direction of the Cut. You yearned to hear about what the future held for Pope, and listen to John B retell stories of when you were kids, and be able to stare into JJ’s bright blue eyes without him noticing. 

You changed into a pair of jean shorts and a plain red cropped tank. Rory walks into your room as your brushing out your hair and looks at you as if you lost your mind.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t wear that,” She says.

You brows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about? I wear shit like this all the time.”

“Not to the Country Club, you don’t.” That’s when it hits you. Today’s been so hectic, you forgot what day it was. “It’s Sunday.”

Sunday dinner at the Country Club is now a weekly commitment forced upon you by your grandparents. Each week, your mom, sister, and you are forced to spend one dinner with your grandma and grandpa. This is basically your mom’s payment back for sending you and Rory to Kook Academy. Only they actually pay for the dinner. It’s usually the longest two hours of your entire week. It’s hard to listen to your grandfather rant about Real Estate and your grandma slyly critique your mother in almost every aspect of her life. 

“Shit. I completely forgot,” You say.

“Well, you better change. We’re leaving in about five minutes,” Rory says then plucks a gold necklace from your dresser. “Oh and can I wear this tonight?”

You sigh. “Sure.”

You change into a baby blue wrap around dress and pin your wet hair into a half up half down due. It’s gonna have to work for the limited time you have to get ready. After applying a thin layer of makeup to look the least bit presentable, you meet your mom and sister by the front door.

“Finally,” Your mom says when she sees you. 

“Sorry. I didn’t realize it was Sunday.”

“It’s okay, honey. I just don’t think I can handle another late remark from Mom today.” She looks you up and down and grins. “You look great.”

Despite the many fiery fights you and your mom can have, she is also your best friend. It’s kind of like a love hate relationship. Steve says it’s because you’re exactly like your mom - almost like a sixteen year old version of her. 

You really hope that isn’t true. You’re not ready to have a kid in two years. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Your grandparents are already sitting at a round table in the corner of the country club by the two tall windows that reach up to the ceiling with a view looking out into the golf course. The best seat in the house for the richest a holes on the island. 

“Lorelai,” Your grandmother grins, but you can instantly tell it’s sarcastic. “Did you have to walk here?”

You speak up before your mom could. “Sorry Grandma. It’s my fault we’re late.”

Your grandparents are hard on your mom but easier on you and Rory, especially Rory.

“Well, you’re here now,” Your grandpa says. He’s usually the mediator between your mom and grandma. Although he’s usually sucks at it. “Sit. Sit.”

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, JJ shuffles through his many coworkers with his apron in one hand and a piece of fried calamari from Miss Carol’s appetizer in the other. 

“JJ -” She scolds and slaps his hand away from going in for a second piece. 

“Good evening Miss Carol,” JJ smirks and makes his way to the area between the kitchen and dining room where most of the servers and bust boys hang out. Some of the boys slap him on the back or shove him by the shoulder, chuckling to themselves. “What’s going on boys? Busy crowd?”

“What are you doing here? You never work Sundays,” His friend, Mitch, says. 

Luke Maybank was behind on several bills - worse than it’s ever been. They already shut off their electricity and JJ wanted to make sure the water wouldn’t be next. 

But JJ shrugs nonchalantly. “Little extra dough can't hurt.”

“Well, you picked a good day,” Raymond walks up to the blonde, rolling his sleeves. “You got Kook Royalty and their Hybrid offsprings in your section.” 

“What?” JJ looks through the small square Plexiglas on the swinging door. He knows exactly where to look and immediately sees you sitting with King and Queen Kook, looking absolutely miserable, pushing around your food with your fork. 

“Damn, Maybank. Almost broke your neck - you turned so fast.”

“Shut up, Easterling. I was just seeing how crowded we were,” JJ lied. He really just wanted to see if you were here. And now that he sees you are, he’s a little nervous to do his own damn job.

Raymond Easterling chuckles. “Yeah, I know what you were looking at. But don’t get your hopes up. There’s a reason Kooks call that girl the Heart Sucker. Not even the high and powerful JJ Maybank could get a piece of that.”

The guys around JJ and Raymond chuckle and nod in agreement, hearing the stories of how you’d reject every single guy that’s ever asked you out. Sometimes you’d go on a few dates, trying to push yourself out of your comfort zone, but then things would quickly become too much, and you’d get overwhelmed. 

JJ didn’t like the way Raymond talked about you or how the others laughed at your expense. His hands clenched into fists, tempted to throw a punch in Ray’s cocky face.  The guy’s just being a jerk because he’s one of the guys that got rejected by you, he thought. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” JJ shakes his head and ties his apron around his waist to distract his hands.

“No?” Raymond challenges him. “You think I’m wrong? You think you could pull the infamous Hybrid over there?”

JJ glances back through the window. You’re looking at your grandma with a clearly forced grin. You’re twirling your hair between your fingers, a habit you picked up when you were little to do when you’re bored. JJ would find you doing that in school all the time. 

You’re gorgeous, he thought. It’s no wonder that almost every guy on this island has tried to make a pass on you, including JJ himself, but his remarks always come off as playful, afraid of actually telling you how he feels about you. His fantasies about you went further than just getting you between the sheets. He could picture getting married, having children, and growing old together. Years ago, the two of you would talk about your future. Neither one of you cared about money or fancy jobs. All you wanted was to be free - of this island, of each other’s families, of responsibilities placed on you from birth. You hold the same values as JJ, and he’s never met another person like you. 

But JJ has a hard exterior. No one other than his best friends know his true heart, and he wasn’t going to let someone like Raymond Easterling find out about his soft spot for you. He would never hear the end of it.

JJ looks at you one last time. You’re talking to Rory, your face in his direction. This time you’re smiling, probably discussing something other than your grandparent’s expectations of you. He’d kill to see that smile every single day.

What’s the worst that could happen? You reject him? Yeah, that might kill JJ inside, but maybe you’d still be his friend, or continue to be acquaintances like you are now. As long as he gets to see you, he’d be okay. There was always the future. But who knows? Maybe you’d say yes? He’ll never know unless he tries. Right?

JJ fakes the same cocky grin that Raymond wears. “I haven’t failed yet.”

The guys around him whistle and shake their heads with smiles. 

“All right, Maybank. Let’s make a bet. I’ll give you one hundred dollars to get Y/N Y/L/N in the sack by the fourth of July.”

JJ scoffs. “You like giving away free money?” He ignored his racing heart at the thought of being that intimate with you.

Raymond nods. “Okay. Let’s put your money where your mouth is. Get her to say ‘I love you’ by the end of the season and I’ll raise you an extra hundred and cover all your dishwasher shifts in September.”

JJ raises his brows with surprise. No one offers to take the dishwashing shift. Sometimes the boys are pulled back there when the kitchen is short staffed and it’s easily one of the worst jobs at the Club.

This bet was almost too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Deal.” JJ says.

The boys shake hands on it and the other guys whisper to each other about how intrigued they are to see this play out.

JJ wipes his sweaty palms against his apron and pushes the door open to approach your table, hoping he can hear you over his thudding heart. 

“Good evening folks. May I take those empty plates out of your way?”

You look up at the voice you know so well and a smile raises on your lips. JJ meets your eyes and he winks at you, splattering your heart in flutters. 

“Please.” Your grandmother pushes her plate away from her, stuffed with filet and red wine.

“JJ,” Your mom grins up at him. Growing up, your mom always had a soft spot for the blonde Pogue. She’s heard the stories about his father, mostly from Steve, who actually grew up with Luke Maybank, his cousin. As a child, he was sent to live with Luke Maybank and his single father. Lets just say, he’s not surprised by the way Luke turned out. “Look at you. You’re all grown up now. Last time I saw you, Y/N was still pushing your head in the sand for stealing her popsicle.”

“Yeah. I quickly learned no one should mess with Y/N and her food,” JJ says.

“Never stopped you though,” You smirk at him.

“Lorelai. Who is this?” Your grandma asks, disregarding the boy himself.

“Mom,” Lorelai gives her mom a warning look. “This is JJ Maybank. He went to school with Y/N and Rory.” Lorelai knew to play it safe with her wording. She didn’t know where you and JJ stood. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him and she knew better than to ask. 

“Nice to meet you,” JJ says politely. “I’d shake your hand but mine are kinda full.” He motions to the plates in his hand.

“That’s quite all right.” Your grandma’s smile is so forced, it makes you uncomfortable. 

“I won’t hold you up. Has your server been around with the dessert menu?” JJ looks at you. “We have chocolate cake tonight.”

Heat rushes up your neck. Not because of the cake itself but because JJ remembered your favorite dessert. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. It was safe to save you were a choco-holic. The boys use to make it for you every year for your birthday. It usually came out burnt, none of them ever remembering how to properly make it. But it was all you needed to feel like a very special girl. 

“Your favorite,” Rory elbows you.

Your grandma cringes. “Sounds like diabetes on a plate.”

“Mom,” Lorelai scolds. 

“What?” She asks, not understanding the concept of a filter.

Now heat rushes to your cheeks for an entire different reason. “He did. We’re not doing dessert tonight. Thank you, though.”

JJ nods but feels disappointed by the way your face flinched at your grandmother’s comment. 

“My pleasure,” He says like he was taught to do and excuses himself to drop the plates off in the back before he can say anything else that would probably get him fired.

Your mom looks at your with raised brows. “He’s cute, honey.”

“Lorelai, please. He’s the busboy,” Your grandma says.

“He’s a good kid, Mom.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” You stand up. “I have to use the restroom.”

Rory gives you a knowing grin as you walk away from the table. When you walk into the hallway between the dining area and the front lobby, you immediately feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sometimes just the presence of your grandparents and their pompous judgements can be suffocating. You do your best to bite your tongue around them, excusing yourself when you feel yourself getting heated. 

JJ catches a glimpse of your light blue dress out of the corner of his eye when he rounds the corner to collect the plates off a different table. He looks over his shoulder at Raymond, who’s staring at the blonde watching you, and winks.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ says, walking up to you.

You look up from your phone and immediately smile. “Hey. I was actually hoping I’d catch you out here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nervously tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry about my grandmother. She can be...”

JJ shakes his head. “Hey. It’s okay. I work for Kooks almost every single day. I’m use to it.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control,” JJ says. “Besides, that’s probably the nicest she’s ever been to me.”

You hide your face in your hands. “Stop. You’re making it worse.”

JJ laughs and takes your wrists in his hands, slowly pulling them away from your face. Your eyes shoot up to his, immediately feeling a tingling feeling run through your skin, straight to your heart. 

“It’s okay. I promise,” He says softly. His voice is so sincere that you have no other option but to believe him. It almost makes your feel guiltier, wondering how much bullshit he’s been through with ungrateful Kooks that it’s so easy for him to forgive and forget.

“Okay,” Your voice is a whisper, taken off guard by how close he is to you and how he still hasn't let go of your hands. 

In that same moment, JJ realizes he’s still holding you and gently removes his hands. He coughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck, where sweat begins to bubble. Why is he so nervous?

“So um...” You say, suddenly feeling nervous too. “You going to John B’s tonight?”

JJ’s eyes shoot up in surprise. How did you know that? “Yeah. I’m heading over there after work.”

“I saw him and Pope at Heywards earlier today and they invited me over. I wasn’t sure if I should come or not.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Because it’s different now, you wanted to say. But you didn’t because you feel like the elephant in the room would only grow. And you didn’t want to admit you were nervous to meet Kie and Sarah outside of school. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You should definitely come. The boys miss you.”

You pretend like a little piece of your heart didn’t just break when JJ didn’t say ‘we.’ 

“What time do you get off of work?”

“Around 9ish.”

You nod. “I can pick you up if you’d like and we could go together?”

Your heart races after you suggest it. What if he says no? Why were you feeling this way? This is the same kid you use to make fun of for pouring milk into his bowl before his cereal. 

“Yeah. That’d be perfect.”

“Great!” Your phone pings with a text from Rory, telling you that your grandparents are wondering where you are. “Shit. I have to get back. I’ll see you at nine?”

“See you then,” JJ nods and turns back to the kitchen. When his eyes meet Raymond’s, he’s reminded of what he agreed to. Almost surprised how quickly he forgot about it. You were able to take his mind off of anything without even trying. He clears his throat to get rid of the giddy grin he was wearing after talking to you, wanting to look tough and casual in front of his coworker. “Easy.” He says to him. But that felt anything but easy. He could vomit with nerves.

“There’s still plenty of time for you to screw up, Maybank.”

JJ huffs. He’s not wrong. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You drive up to the front of the country club and park in front of the main entrance. It’s 8:57. You’re early and will look eager. So you wait until 9:06 to text him that you’re here.

You changed into a pair of dark washed denim shorts, a yellow cropped tube top, a grey flannel, and navy converse. You changed your outfit about four times before deciding on your first one, not wanting to look too casual or too dressed up. 

For the last three years, you wondered when the four of you would get back together as a group. You wondered if it would ever happen. And now that two Kooks are involved, you feel more nervous than excited.

You jump when the passenger seat door opens, lost in the depth of your own head. JJ smiles, not seeing your reaction.”Cool ride,” he says and looks around the interior. 

“Thanks,” you say, pulling out into the road.

“I got you something,” JJ says.

You glance at him with furrowed brows. What could he have possibly gotten you since you saw him last? A book mark from the Country Club’s gift shop?

JJ reaches into his backpack and pulls out a plate with clear wrap around it. Your mouth drops when you see the chocolate cake on a plate in his hands, the smell immediately hitting your nose with pure delight.

“You saved me a piece?” You jump in your seat excitedly.

“Had to hide it good too or else Miss Carol would have had my ass handed to me,” JJ jokes and even pulls out two forks. He undoes the wrapping and cuts off a piece. He waits until you hit a stop sign and says, “Open up.”

You look at him and immediately open your mouth. He gently places the fork between your lips and you take the piece of cake off with your teeth. Like a baby.

Your eyes close with pure pleasure. “Oh my god. That’s amazing.”

“Miss Carol does know how to bake a mean cake,” JJ says and takes a bite of his own.

“Another one,” You say, glancing at the cake again. Like you said, choco-holic. “Please.” You say when JJ teases you by holding the fork away from you.

JJ laughs. “I like hearing you beg.”

You slap him in the arm with the back of your hand. “In your dreams, Maybank.”

“You got that right, Y/L/N.”

The two of you finish the cake with only a few bites each. Small but rich in chocolate that leaves you craving more. You were gonna have to meet this Miss Carol woman. 

After he puts the plate back in his bag, JJ reaches for the aux cord, but you quickly slap his hand away. “Hey. What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re seriously gonna make me listen to this the entire way to John B’s?”

You scoff. “I’ll have you know Blink-182 is one of my favorite bands.”

“It’s also soccer moms’ favorite band,” JJ laughs at you.

You turn up the volume, blasting ‘All the Small Things’ and point to your ear. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

JJ rolls his eyes but laughs along with you, even bopping his head to the beat. You drive with the windows down, dancing and singing along to a bunch of throwback songs with JJ as if the two of you have been doing this forever. 

You pull up to John B’s and park behind his dad’s old van, better known as The Twinkie. When you turn down the music, JJ looks at you with a shake in his head. “Next time, I’m driving.”

“What was wrong with my driving?”

“We’re in the Outer Banks, Sparky, not NASCAR.”

You scoff and follow behind JJ who’s leading the way up John B’s driveway. As you get closer, you smell the smoky scent of a bonfire nearby and eventually hear John B’s laugh mixed in with a female’s. Your smile falters as nerves gather in the pit of your stomach. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ asks.

“Nothing,” You say, but JJ easily catches your lie and gives you a knowing look. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Who? Pope and John B? I’m pretty sure they like you more than me even after three years -”

“Not them, you idiot,” You shove him playfully by the shoulder as you two let yourselves inside. “Sarah and Kie.”

“Don’t you go to school with them?”

“Yeah, but we don’t talk,” You say quietly, not wanting them to hear you.

“Hm.”

“What?” JJ shrugs. “Nothing. I just didn’t think you cared about what other people thought.”

“I don’t,” You say quickly. “But they're your best friends. It’s different.”

“You don’t need their approval. You technically were here first.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been replaced,” You try to say it as a joke and even throw a smirk in there. 

But JJ stops in his track and looks at you seriously. “No one can replace you. Not even if they tried.”

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s not a common occurrence that JJ gets all serious on you. Warmth covers you like a blanket and the longer he holds your stare, the weaker your knees become. 

“JJ! Is that you?” John B calls out from the backyard.

“Yeah,” JJ yells back. He opens the fridge in John B’s kitchen. “Want a beer?” He offers to you.

You shake your head. “No thanks.”

For the first time, you take in John B’s home. It looks the same as it did three years ago, only a lot messier. The pull out couch looks like its been used recently with blankets and sheets tossed about on it. Empty beer cans and cigarette butts are thrown messily on the coffee tables and the air smells faintly of old marijuana. 

JJ leads you out to the back where four people are gathered around a fire. Three out of the four immediately smile when the two of you approach them, but Kie’s eyes narrow and her head tilts with confusion.

Shit, you think. 

“You came!” Pope laughs and hops up from his beach chair and embraces you in a hug.

You laugh, not expecting the embrace, but welcoming it all the same. John B’s next, giving you a quick hug and shaking his head.

“I gotta say, I didn’t think you were going to come,” John B says.

“You can thank me for that later,” JJ says jokingly.

“Actually when I heard JJ was coming, I almost changed my mind and stayed home,” You joke and smirk JJ’s way.

“Just like old times,” Pope says, looking between you and the blonde. The banter felt like the yall never separated in the first place. 

“Hey, you know Sarah and Kie, right?” John B points to the girls. Sarah stands up to say hi, and eventually Kie follows her, not wanting to look rude, but stays off to the side, keeping her distance.

“Yeah,” You wave awkwardly. 

“Hey!” Sarah says sweetly. “I didn’t realize you guys use to all hang out.”

“Y/N grew up down the street,” JJ explains and sips at his beer. 

“You want a drink or something?” Pope asks you, not knowing JJ already did.

“No thank you,” You say again.

“You don’t drink?” Kie asks. It was the first thing she’s said to you.

“Not usually,” You say and hold her stare. You try to get a read on her, but she’s had to get a tell on. You can’t tell if she just doesn’t like you or just doesn’t know you. Either way, it makes you uneasy. 

“Here, I’ll go grab you a chair,” Pope says and walks to the side of the house to grab another beat up beach chair. 

As the night goes on, you feel the tension in your shoulders loosen and your body feel lighter. Most of the night was spent retelling childhood stories the four of you shared. Sarah would laugh at most of them, occasionally rolling her eyes at her boyfriend from the stupid shit he would do, although it sounds like he’s no different to you now. 

You talked about the time you and JJ stole a golf cart for a joy ride on Figure Eight, or when you and John B pranked Pope by putting a dead fish in his locker, or how you and John B learned how to play guitar from youtube tutorials. 

Midnight came around quickly and exhaustion was slowly taking over your body. It’s been a long day between the cafe flooding, dinner with your grandparents, and now this. 

JJ was the first to notice you slowly fading. 

“You okay?” He asks you quietly as everyone else is caught up in conversation. 

“Yeah,” You say, lazily grinning at him. 

“We can leave if you want,” He says.

“You’re not staying?” You ask. It sounded like everyone was planning to spend the night here. And as much as you wanted to, you just didn’t feel comfortable enough yet. 

JJ shrugs. “My dad’s out of town tonight. It’ll be nice to have the house to myself.” Before you can say anything, he stands and brushes his hands against his pants. “All right, losers. We’re out of here.”

“Aw, you’re leaving?” Sarah pouts.

“Yeah, I’m beat and Y/N’s my ride home,” JJ says.

You were glad he didn’t call you out for being tired. You didn’t want to look lame in front of everybody, especially Kie.

“Thanks for having me,” You say to everyone. It might have been John B’s house, but it was everyone’s night you intruded on.

John B stands up to hug you. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You nod. “I won’t. I promise.”

Pope hugs you next. “Text me when you get back safe.”

“I will.”

“Bye!” Sarah waves and Kie exhales a ring of smoke from her blunt.

You wave at them before following JJ back to your car. 

“Nuh-uh-uh,” JJ says. You didn’t realize you both walked to the driver’s side.

“What? No.”

JJ nods and holds his hands out for your keys. “I’m not dying tonight.” 

“You’ve been drinking and smoking all night,” You say. You didn’t think JJ was drunk or even that high, but you were not going to let a teenager with an ounce of alcohol in his system get behind the wheel. “Next time. For now, hold on to the cupholder.”

JJ sighs dramatically and goes to the other side of the car and hops in the passenger seat. 

This time you keep the music quiet, listening to the hum of the radio instead of your phone. 

“Take a left,” JJ says.

“JJ, I know where you live. And it’s not left.”

“Don’t you trust me?” 

You snicker. “Not in the slightest.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “Just take the left.”

You hold your hands up in surrender and take the left turn. He directs you for a couple more miles until he has you park in front of a 24 hour diner. 

“What are we doing here?” You ask.

“I’m in the mood for a milkshake.”

“We just had cake!” You say.

“Come on, Sparky. Show me what that mouth can do,” JJ smirks. 

You go to hit him again but he takes off running to the front entrance and pulls the door open. You chase after him, almost running into his back at the front host stand where JJ safely smirks at you in triumph.

“Two please,” He says to the hostess. 

The old cranky woman leads you to a booth off to the side next to a window without a word. 

A couple minutes later, a waitress walks by and asks if you’re ready to order. 

“Yes. One chocolate milkshake and one black and white milkshake,” JJ orders for both of you, already knowing what flavor you’d want.

“And fries, please.” You say. The waitress nods, takes your menus, and walks off. JJ raises his brow at the extra order. “What?” You shrug. “Just showing you what my mouth can do.”

JJ scoffs. “What a tease.” 

You playfully kick his shin under the table.

“Did you have fun tonight?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” You answer. “Felt like old times. The girls are nice too.”

You were about to only mention Sarah, but you didn’t want to cause any issues with Kie. Not yet at least. Maybe she just needed time to warm up to you.

“See? I told you they wouldn’t bite.”

A couple minutes later, the waitress comes back with your milkshakes and fries. 

“How’s John B doing? You know, with the whole Big John thing?” You ask delicately, unsure of how JJ would react to you pestering about John B’s business. “I didn’t want to ask and bring the mood down,” You explain yourself although you don’t need to.

JJ shrugs. “He’s in denial I think. Won’t sign a death certificate until he sees a body. He could be worse, though.”

“Yeah,” You say softly. You don’t know what you would do if you were in that situation. In a way you felt lucky that you never knew your dad at all. It would be harder to lose him, knowing who he was.

You take a fry and dip it into your milkshake before taking a bite. This makes JJ freeze and look at you like you have two heads. 

“What?” You say with your mouth full.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” You say and give him a look to do it.

JJ reluctantly picks up the fry and dunks it into his milkshake. He looks at the fry questioningly before popping it into his mouth. Somehow the sweetness of the milkshake and the saltiness of the french fry complement each other beautifully and his widen in pleasant surprise. 

“Oh wow,” JJ says.

“Told you,” You smirk.

You spend the next hour catching up, trying to fit the last three years into an hour. JJ does most of the talking because you want to know more about what John B, Pope, and JJ have been up to. Your life was so boring and depressing, you didn’t want to bore JJ with the details.

You drive JJ home and talk for a few minutes more when you park. He seems to be procrastinating getting out of the car, but you don’t mind. You could talk to him all night, suddenly not feeling tired anymore.

“All right. I’ll let you get home before the sun rises,” He says and opens the door. He pauses when his feet hit the ground and he looks back at you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have to work at the shop, why?”

“Well, there’s a storm coming in. John B and I might go out to surf the surge before it hits. You still surf?”

You scoff. “Do I still surf?”

JJ holds his hands up in surrender. “Just checking. You think you can handle the surge?”

“Let’s not forget who the better surfer is, JJ.”

“I didn’t. It’s still me.”

“You wish.”

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Now you have a point to prove. You have to show JJ that you’re still the better surfer. 

“I'll see you tomorrow,” You agree. 

“Great, it’s a date.” He winks and shuts the door before you can tell him otherwise. 

You giggle to yourself as JJ walks up the front yard and stay there until he you see he gets in safely. 

You pull out of the driveway, wishing he had asked you out on a real date. One that didn’t involve John B.

Tag list: @super-funky-bisexual​ @sunsetswithjj​ @moniamaybank​ @throwawayfish​ @poguestyle17​ @5am-cigarette​ @jjpouggues​ @fly-away-from-here​ @buckys2thicc​

#JJ Imagine #jj fic #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj obx #jj fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks imagines #outer banks fic #jj maybank one shot

[her-world-on-fire]

Kisses in the Corridor {Tim Drake x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 3,604

Request: Could you please write a tim x reader fic where the reader is a superhero (I was thinking like Barry Allen’s kid and the new Kid Flash) and is also Tim’s s/o and maybe Bruce and/or the Flash catch them having sex? 💜

2s. “stop before someone sees!" & 4s. "ten? i only need five."

WARNING NSFW MATURE CONTENT 18+ Tim and reader are 18

I WOKE up to the sound of a loud buzzing. I moved away from Tim’s grip and reached on the nightstand for my phone. I looked back at Tim, he held the same peaceful expression. I squinted at the caller ID and immediately sat up. I tried to be as gentle as possible, not to wake Tim. He was normally a very light sleeper, but he was sleep deprived. I pushed the blankets off and moved out of the room. I gently opened the door and snuck out into the hallway. I looked down at the caller ID once more to be sure before I answered.

DAD

“Dad? It’s 3am, what’s going on?” I whispered, I heard a rustling in the background. There was some kind of conflict, but I couldn’t quite make it out. After a few moments there was silence, then a heavy sigh.“I need your help.”

“What’s going on?” I moved down the hall trying my best to be quiet. “I’m going to send you some files. I need you to get Tim to decrypt them.”

“Okay send them to me and I’ll have him look at them as soon as he wakes up.” I heard a pause from the other side of the line. “When he-” He paused. “He’s with you right now?” I hadn’t exactly mentioned that I had moved in with him. As far as he knew I was still staying with in the house with the others. I faked a yawn. “I gotta go dad, love you.”

I quickly hung up and moved back into the bedroom. I got back into bed and Tim shifted slightly. I moved closer and he put his arm around me again.

I woke up and found Tim looking up at the ceiling. “Did you sleep okay? I noticed you got out of bed last night.” He turned to me, and I sighed. “Sorry I thought I was being quiet.” He chuckled, “Work hazard. Don’t worry about it.” I sat up and grabbed my phone. “Well it was my dad.” He squinted his eyes. “Why did he call you at 3am?”

“He wanted me to send you some files he needs decrypted.” I handed him my phone and showed him the files. He hummed and sat up. “I’m sorry I know you just finished your project-” He shook his head and get out of bed. “I really don’t mind. I’m sure your father wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.” Tim grabbed his laptop and connected my phone. We moved into the bathroom and got started on our morning routines.

Tim’s was straight forward, he wanted to brush his teeth and get to work. I on the other hand had a few steps. I tried to make Tim do them with me as much as I could. “Come here.” I grabbed his face and massaged a gentle cleanser. Wearing masks almost every night didn’t work wonders for out skin. He waited patiently until I was done. I applied some moisturizer, “All done.”

He smiled and pulled me in for a kiss. “I’ll get the coffee started.”

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

 Tim spent most of the day working on the files. When it was time to leave for patrol I had to pry him from the computer. “It’s time already?” I nodded and moved to get up. He stretched and then looked around.

I held out his suit and he sighed in relief. “What would I do without you?” He pulled his shirt over his head. My eyes raked over his toned chest. He had come a long way. He used to be lanky, but he had put on a lot more muscle in the past two years. Whatever shape he was in, I loved him.

Truth be told I was still getting used to his chiseled features. I gave him once last glance. “If I stay here any longer we’re going to be late.” I handed him his suit and moved out of the room. I grabbed my phone and noticed a missed call.

DAD: I’ll be by Friday afternoon, Bruce needs me to speak at his proposal. Looking forward to talking to Tim.

As if Tim didn’t have enough on his plate. I still had another 3 days to prepare Tim. I decided to tell him tomorrow. I put my phone down and Tim emerged from the bedroom. We met Dick at the coordinates he gave us. Dick left for the night leaving the two of us in charge. Tim had wired the police scanners to our headsets. The night moved slowly.

That was until the 3rd hour.

“10-44. Any units between 4th street and Palmdale?” Tim and I exchanged looks, stolen vehicle. We were only a few minutes out. Tim used his grapple, seeing as we were nearby. I got there a few minutes before him. “How bad is it?” The scanners had grown more chaotic. This wasn’t a normal stolen vehicle situation. We learned that there were children inside the car when it was taken. On top of it all, the driver was intoxicated. “Can you send out an alert and clear the next two blocks?”

“Done.”

I kept up with the vehicle, doing my best to move civilians out of the path. With the alert Tim had sent out. I was going to get inside the vehicle and stop the driver. “He’s approaching a construction site. You’re going in blind, the city hasn’t updated the maps.”

“Send an ambulance, and make sure the police don’t go into construction.”

“Y/N-” Tim’s voice said sternly. He was too far behind to do anything. “Be careful.”

“Always am.” Now that there were no civilians in the way, I was going to have to get the children out first. He was nearing the end of the map. I moved in and saw two children in the backseat. I needed to take them one by one. It was safer, their bodies weren’t meant to undergo high velocities. I needed to protected them from whiplash.

The first child was a beautiful chocolate haired boy. “Okay, where are you Tim?”

“Magnolia.” He replied immediately. I took the boy and ran him to Tim. By time his older brother blinked I was back. I left them both with Tim and rushed back to the driver. By now he knew that something was going on. He sped up. “What are you doing?” Tim’s worried voice came over the headset. “They’re safe.”

“He could get away.” I used every ounce of my stamina to catch up. I caught up and moved inside the car. I tried to take control, but he wasn’t giving up. The site was less than a mile away. As it grew closer, I saw it was the outline of a building.

If he breached the gates he wouldn’t have time to stop. He would drive through the building’s foundation, which wasn’t secure. It would crumble onto of us. His hand moved to the gun he had by his side. He slammed the gun into the side of my head. I felt the warmth trickling down the side of my face. I threw a punch and felt it connect. He fired a shot and moved my head back. He missed. I lifted my head back up and took the gun. and tossed it in the back seat. I looked up, it was too late. We were almost inside the building.

Tim was screaming in my headset. He heard the gunshot. I opened the door and pulled the driver out. I looked in front of us, the building slowly started to crumble. There was still a chance. There was a small opening where the building hadn’t caved in yet.

I had to make a choice. I needed to risk taking him and him slowing me down. Or I could leave him and get out, guaranteed. I had a fraction of a second to decide. I took one look at him and decided to risk it. I held on too him and used all my strength to reach the opening. I was exhausted. Just catching up to him when he was miles ahead had taken it out of me. Now I was bleeding, and drained. 

I thought about Tim. Memories of us flashed inside my head. I mustered enough strength to run. I threw the man out and then jumped out of the opening. On impact, I knew something wasn’t okay. I had landed on my shoulder. “Tim.”

He was just outside the gates.

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

Luckily my body worked hard to fix the broken bone. Being a speedster came with its perks. Fast metabolism, and healing. By the time Bruce’s proposal came around, my wounds were almost completely healed.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Tim asked once more, hands on either side of my face. “I’m fine Tim. I promise. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He sighed, he had seen the x- rays. Physically I was fine. “Fine but if you start to feel even just a headache, we’re coming back.” I nodded and he looked over my face again.

I stuck out my hand and he placed a kiss on it before intertwining our fingers.

We arrived right on time. Tim’s part of Bruce’s proposal was one of the first points. He had to go set up in Bruce’s office. “I’ll be right back.” He took his files and rushed up to the office. I joined Dick, Jason and Damien in the lounge. “Hello, boys.”

They looked up and Dick’s eyebrow’s knitted together. “Are you even supposed to be out of bed?” I laughed, “Dick it was just my shoulder. I’m fine.” Damian snickered at his brother. Dick looked at between his brothers. Jason had a smirk on his face. “What?”

“Speedster. They heal 20 times faster than us.”

“He got promoted to lead of the biotech department of Wayne Enterprises a few weeks ago.”

The boys bickered. My eyes scanned the room for my father. He was incredibly hard to miss. “I’ll be back.” The boys didn’t even turn in my direction. I walked to the other side of the lounge. He turned to me and then patted his college on the shoulder. He approached me, a big smile on his face. “Hey dad.” He opened his arms and pulled me in for a tight hug. I groaned, “Little too hard.” I gasped and he let go. “Sorry, I just haven’t seen you much.”

“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been meaning to visit.” He nodded and looked around. “Where’s Tim?” I pointed to Bruce’s office. “He’s setting up.” My father raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know he was part of the presentation.”

“Wow. That’s fantastic.” He genuinely was impressed. After all he had a background in bio medicine. He knew how hard the work was. “We’ll I’d love to talk to him about it.” I laughed, of course he did. “You can come by our place after and I’m sure he’d talk your ear off.” He turned to me. His eyes narrowing.

Realization struck, and I cursed internally. Eventually I was going to have to tell him, but I was hoping back at home. In front of family and witnesses. Before he could say anything. There was an announcement on the overhead speaker. We were ushered as the presentations were about to begin.

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

Tim did fantastic as expected. He kept the crowd engages and said everything perfectly. He approached me as he walked off of the stage. I clapped along with the crowd. He greeted me with a kiss. “You did amazing Tim.” We walked to the back of the room. He didn’t want to interrupt anyone. He gestured for the door. He took my hand and I followed after him. We closed the door behind us and stood in the corridor. Tim let out a deep breath.

He still wasn’t used to speaking in crowds, and this was a lot larger than he was used to. “Are you alright?” He nodded, “I’m glad it’s over.” He moved to take off his tuxedo jacket. I watched as his arms contracted. He slowly rolled up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms.

He put his jacket over his arm and looked over at me. A small grin on his face. “What?” I shook my head and sighed. “How much longer is this?” He looked at the clock. “We still have another hour.” I looked up at him. His piercing blue eyes were fixated on mine. His hair wast neatly parted down the middle, every strand perfectly combed in place. He moved closer and put his hand over the wall near my head. “What’s got you all flustered Y/N?”

I took a deep breath, my eyes fixated on his lips. “You, Drake.” He smirked and pressed his lips against mine.

Barry looked around the room, and noticed the absence of Y/N and Tim. He turned to Bruce. “Where are they?” Bruce looked around. No sigh of them. He looked at the cameras on his watch. He didn’t see them. Bruce shook his head. The two got up and moved into the lounge. Damian, Jason and Dick were there for security. He knew no one would get past them unnoticed.

“Have either of you seen Y/N and Tim?” Bruce asked. Dick and Jason looked at each other and then shrugged. Bruce sighed, so much for security.

“I think I saw them go-” Damian spoke nonchalantly. He looked in front of him, behind Bruce and Barry Dick and Jason were trying to tell him something. Quite frankly, they looked like idiots. They were shaking their heads violently waving their arms back and forth. Damien squinted as he tried to read the boys lips. Dick mouthed something he couldn’t quite make out. Bruce and Barry exchanged looks, they turned around and saw Dick and Jason conversing casually.

“Damian?” Jason motioned for him to keep his lips zipped. A smirk grew on Damian's face. He wanted to see it all play out.

Dick and Jason tried. They weren’t quite sure what they were up to but they knew it was nothing good. They tried to stay in Tim’s good graces, in the blink of an eye Tim could hack everything they owned. As for Y/N, they knew there would be no escaping. Y/N could catch up to them anywhere. In short, they didn’t want to piss either of them off.

They had noticed their brother couldn’t keep his hands off of his date. They were two hyperactive teenagers, it didn’t take rocket science to figure it out. They watched as Damian’s smirk grew. He hadn’t figured it out but he knew it would get Tim in trouble and that was enough for him. “They went down the hall and up the elevator.” Bruce gave a short nod and the two went off.

“Well, we tried.” Jason shrugged, and took a swing of his drink. He wasn’t going to deny that watching Tim get his ass kicked by a speedster wasn’t funny. “Should’ve choked the little bastard.” Dick sighed, the two could only wait.

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

“Tim.” I let out a shaky breath, trying my hardest to keep quiet. “Stop before someone sees!" We were in a building full of people, at any moment someone could walk down the corridor. Tim chuckled against my neck, “You really want me to stop?” I bit my lip, he was right. I didn’t want him to stop. I was just worried about being caught. “The next presentation starts in 10 minutes.”

"Ten? I only need five."

At this point I threw all common sense out of the window. I took his hand and we were in his office in seconds. I had closed the door behind us. Tim smirked, “In my office? You little-” I interrupted him by kissing him. My hands moved from his hair and down to his suit. I quickly unbuttoned his dress shirt, and my hands moved to unbuckle his belt.

Without breaking the kiss i discarded his dress shirt on the floor. His hands moved to remove my clothing. We broke away for a moment to catch our breaths. He picked me up and moved us to the couch. His lips reconnected to mine once more. I straddled his waist and moved against him for friction. My hands moved back down to the waistband of his boxers. I pulled them down and ran my hands up and down his length.

He let out a groan. “Fuck.” He got rid of the rest of my clothes throwing them across his office. I didn’t waste time in scolding him. I lowered myself down onto his length. We both let out a sigh, all of our pent up frustrations released. Tim’s hands moved back to my waist. He lifted me and then slammed me back down onto himself. I bit my lip, trying to stay quiet. His lips moved down to my neck, leaving wet kisses before moving to whisper in my ear. “They’re all down stairs, I want to hear you.”

Tim loved hearing vocalization, he couldn’t get enough. He knew every part of my body. He knew exactly what to do to get what he wanted. He speed up, and hit just the right spot. I gave in. “Oh god.” We were both breathing heavily. Sounds of pleasure overtook the room. Our bodies moved against each other hungrily. Tim smirked as he moved back to my neck. He moved right to my sweet spot. “Fuck,Tim.”

I dug my nails into his shoulders, leaving small red lines, He pulled away from my neck, satisfied by his work. His lips moved back to mine and speed up again. I felt a growing knot in my stomach each time he moved in and out. Sensing I was close he sat up and took control. He thrusted up into me, over and over, and I grew louder each time. “Please, Tim.” I could feel his thrusts becoming more sloppy, he was close. My orgasm came soon after, my body gave out. I shook against him. He helped me ride out my high. He came and I felt his warmth spread in my core.

“Y/N are you okay-” The door burst open, in the heat of the moment I had forgotten to lock it. Luckily Tim reached for his shirt. He quickly used it to cover me. “I thought you were hurt or dear god.” Barry looked at the ceiling, trying to avert his gaze.

“TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE!” Bruce’s voice echoed off the walls. Surely the boys down stairs were snickering. “In your office of all places.” He rubbed his hand across his face. Neither of us knew what to say. “Get dressed. Now.” Bruce said sternly before slamming Tim’s office door.

We moved off of each other and tried to find our clothes. Of course Tim in desperation had scattered my clothes. I was kind enough to leave his nicely by the couch. We quickly got dressed and opened the door. Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. Barry glared at Tim.

“Hey dad.” I smiled nervously, he sighed deeply. “I don’t even know where to start. I’m so-”

“Did you finish uploading the files before you-” Bruce couldn’t finish the sentence, Tim pulled the hard drive out his pocket and handed it over. “Go.” He waved us off and I watched as he placed a hand on my father’s chest. I motioned for Tim to go, and I approached my father. Bruce looked between us and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He nodded, a silence washed over us. Neither of us sure what to say. Finally, he broke the silence. “So, you really love him?” I looked back at Tim who was having his talk with Bruce. I smiled and nodded. “I really do.” It gave Barry comfort. He had seen the strength of the connection when he first met Tim a year ago. He knew that they were growing up, it was inevitable. After all, he was a teenager once. He knew what it was like to be deeply in love. For now, all he could do was try and forget this ever happened. Tim approached us. I looked back and forth between the two. For a long moment there was just silence. The two held eye contact. “I expect to see you during the holidays Timothy.” Tim nodded, “Of course sir.”

We went back down stairs. Damian snickered, and Tim shot a glare at his brothers. Dick and Jason pointed to their youngest brother. “If either of you breathe a word...” Tim trailed off, his threat looming. His older brothers nodded. “And you,” He turned to Damian. “I’ll end you.” I placed my hand on Tim’s chest. He backed away and stood up straight. “You know he-”

“Thank you for the drive, you helped save a lot of people.” And with that he was off. Tim breathed a sigh of relief, “I thought he was going to kill me.”

“I know. In time, let’s just get through this.” Tim sighed, “Fine.”

MASTERLIST

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#Tim Drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #tim drake x reader smut #tim drake smut #batman #Red Robin #red robin x reader #red robin imagine #red robin smut #red robin x reader smut #batboys #batfamily #Bat Family

[crowfootwrites]

Sugar [Miguel Galindo x Fem!Reader]

I - I'm not sure what happened, because I didn't plan this lol. But it's probably because I had this song on repeat as I was writing. Miguel has been pissing me off this season, but I guess that's working for me? Idk, that seems like there's a lot to unpack there. Anyway, here's a one-shot!

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut (like, a bunch of it), unprotected sex, daddydom!miguel; language; references to sugaring (not the waxing kind) | Words: 3,295

Taglist: @chibsytelford

He had been coming in every Thursday morning for the last several weeks. He ordered the same thing every time. For Miguel, medium flat white with oat milk. An odd choice, in your opinion. Based on his appearance, you would have pegged him as an Americano guy. Or at worst, the type to order a cappuccino and casually drop the “I discovered cappuccinos at this exquisite little café on a Venice canal” line. Especially the first time he came in wearing that white suit. Might as well have been wearing a fucking straw fedora.

He sat in the café every time he came in, reading the paper and looking at you. Men did that, sometimes, but they all had the decency to look away when you caught them staring. But this guy would meet your eyes with not a hint of embarrassment and take his sweet time breaking your gaze to return to his paper. If he had been anyone else, it might’ve made your skin crawl. But the fact that he didn’t look away, as though he didn’t care that you knew he was looking, had you intrigued.

Your barista job was the way you were paying your way through school and you worked a lot. Having something like a handsome regular to look forward to made the time a little more bearable. So, your little dance with the stranger Miguel went on like this for several weeks. After the first few, you started making sure to have his order ready when he arrived, knowing he would show up at 8:15 on the dot. The first time you did that, you slid his drink across the counter as he reached for it, his fingers brushing yours lightly. You met his scrutiny with your own darkening gaze, daring him to say something. But also begging him to say something.

He didn’t. He simply smirked that infuriating smirk and took his usual place at a table near the door, opening his paper with a flick. You turned on your heel, sucking your teeth as your coworker arched her eyebrow at you.

The next Thursday, you had his order ready when he arrived, but in an effort to restore the power balance, you had your coworker bring it to the handoff. You could feel Miguel’s eyes on you as you zipped busily behind the counter, making drinks. He watched you intently for the entirety of his visit. You allowed yourself exactly three glances his way. Each time, you could tell that you were getting him riled up. You had the feeling that no one ever said no to him, and you weren’t giving him the attention he so clearly desired.

Perhaps the timing was right, or perhaps your brush-off worked, but the following week was different. You could tell something had changed when he walked in. He was all business, his shoulders squared beneath his navy suit jacket, his bearded jaw set. He looked… like he was done playing games. The thought sent an involuntary shiver crawling down your spine.

“Good morning, Miguel,” you said coyly as he approached the handoff where you had his drink waiting for him.

“(Y/N),” he offered in response, a devilish glint in his eye.

“I’d like to get this to go,” he continued, motioning to his coffee, and your heart plummeted, immediately assuming you had somehow messed this up for yourself.

“Uh, sure,” you retorted. “Not a problem.” You turned away to remake his drink in a to-go cup, mentally kicking yourself already. When you returned to hand him his drink, he was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, studying you.

“There’s something else I’d like.” He pushed himself off the wall and leaned over the counter conspiratorially, his mouth very close to your ear. His tone was smooth, with just enough authority to make your thighs clench. “You. On your back. In my bed.”

His words squeezed the breath out of your lungs. You pulled back for a moment to meet his gaze, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. Your pulse thrummed under your skin. “Also, not a problem,” you murmured, proud of how smooth you managed to sound, despite the rolodex of emotions spinning in your head.

***

“Fuck – Miguel!” you moaned, your back arching off of his 1,000 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets as he slid his fingers between your folds, his mouth and beard glistening with your juices. You watched him smirk from his position between your legs, his fingers stretching you exquisitely. He had one of your knees pinned roughly to the bed, keeping you spread for him. You clutched at the sheets on either side of you, but your hands started to wander as he found his rhythm inside you. His thumb circled your clit roughly as your fingers dragged themselves down your body. One hand found a home pinching and twisting your nipple, the sharp twinge punctuating the slow heat building in your core. Your other hand gripped at Miguel’s hair as his tongue lapped at your clit again, and you couldn’t help yourself as you ground your hips harder against his face, whining in pleasure.

Your first orgasm rolled through you like a wave, your whole body convulsing repeatedly as you rode it, wailing Miguel’s name in its wake. He climbed over you as you came down, his thick cock hanging against the inside of your thigh and you shivered, eager to be stretched around him as he fucked you into his fancy mattress. He eyed you hungrily as he moved to press his mouth to your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. When you had been lulled into the gentleness of his ministrations, he bit down hard on your shoulder, sinking roughly into you at the same time, and you cried out as the sensation took your breath away. You clung to Miguel, your fingers clawing frantically at his back, as he bottomed out, thrusting hard and deep.

A low groan rumbled in his chest as he rolled his hips against yours. You relished in the sounds of your fucking echoing in the spacious room, his hips snapping furiously against your ass. He tossed your legs over his shoulders and pounded harder into you, the new angle sinking him even deeper. The fire in his eyes excited you and had your pussy throbbing around him.

“Ahh, Jesus, Miguel, just like that,” you gasped, feeling the pressure building in your core. The higher he took you, the emptier your mind became, until all you knew was the ache to be filled. Miguel pulled your hands off of him, grabbing your wrists roughly and pinning them to the bed above your head, never breaking stride.

“Please don’t stop,” you cried, your eyes screwed shut, quickly approaching another orgasm. Miguel dropped himself onto his elbows to hover over you, the added stimulation over your clit wrecking you. Your second orgasm snapped, spots bursting behind your eyelids and you clenched around Miguel completely. He fucked you through it and moments later he was pulling out to kneel in front of you on the bed, stroking himself desperately before releasing ropes of hot cum on your chest.

He was breathing hard as he ran a finger through the sticky mess on your chest and brought it up to your lips. He watched with dark eyes as you opened your mouth obediently and sucked the taste of him off of his fingers.

After a moment, his face relaxed and he pulled himself off the bed, returning from the bathroom with a damp rag. He gently cleaned off your chest, grazing your clavicle with his lips. You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you, at the image of Miguel Galindo cleaning you up.

“What?” he asked with a lopsided smile.

“Hope you’re not expecting me to give you my employee discount from now on,” you snickered.

Miguel grinned. “I think I can afford a cup of coffee, querida.”

***

You were more than a little surprised when Miguel showed up at your door late one Saturday morning. You had been sleeping together for a few months by then; sometimes at fancy hotels, but usually at his home, in his bed. Well, and on a lot of his other furniture. But considering that he lived in a very expensive house with lavish trappings and armed security, him coming to your shitty apartment in Santo Padre was unprecedented. But there he was, standing at your door, while you stared back at him wide-eyed. You drank in his suited appearance while you stood before him in bare feet and an oversized Guns ‘n Roses t-shirt.

“Good morning, princesa,” he said smoothly, that notorious smirk fastened to his lips. “May I come in?”

You shifted from foot to foot. “Uh, sure, I guess.” You stepped back to allow him through.

You watched skeptically as he gazed around him. He kept his expression smoothed into neutrality, making it impossible to read him. Most apartments in Santo Padre were old and somewhat run down. You had worked hard to make yours feel homey. It was small, but your couch was new, and you had a nice TV you had saved up for. There was framed art on the walls and pictures on the shelves. If he had said anything negative about your home, the only space you had to yourself, you might have thrown him out. Perhaps he sensed this; either way, he kept his mouth shut.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you asked courteously, the nicety feeling strange on your tongue considering that not two days ago that same tongue had been wrapped around his cock.

“Coffee?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, but still let the grin settle on your lips.

You padded to the kitchen and pulled out two ceramic pour-over sets, your grinder, and the most expensive beans you had on hand. You got started on the familiar, comforting process of making coffee, letting yourself focus on the grinding and the pouring and the steeping, while your mind tried to parse out what Miguel was doing here.

When the coffee was done, you returned to the living room to find Miguel sitting on your couch, gazing down at the papers you had been going through strewn chaotically across the coffee table. He glanced up at you as you entered, a rare smile gracing his features, but you caught the furrow of his brows before he looked up.

You handed him the cup of coffee with an arched brow.

“You need a better system of organization,” he chided, motioning towards the mess.

You shrugged as you dropped onto the couch beside him. “Probably, but I would need to find the motivation to organize it first. Looking at all of this makes me depressed,” you responded, only half-joking.

Miguel studied you seriously for a moment. Then his features relaxed and your chest unclenched accordingly. He set his cup on the coffee table and settled back into your couch as you pulled your legs up under you, getting comfortable.

“So,” you started, drawing the word out. “What brings you to the wrong side of the tracks this fine morning, Miguel?”

You caught the irritation that flashed in his eyes as he turned to look at you. But he eased up when he spotted your wry grin.

“Needed a break from work,” he said simply, his hands gently pulling your feet onto his lap.

“So, you came to hide out in the last place they’d look for you, huh?”

He grinned. “Something like that.”

He drew a low groan out of you as he pressed a thumb to the insole of your foot. You had worked a double yesterday and your feet were killing you. You closed your eyes, your head dropping against the couch cushions as you relaxed into his touch.

When you opened them a few minutes later, Miguel’s hungry stare was focused on you.

“Fuck, querida, the sounds you make,” he growled, reaching for your hips and pulling you roughly onto his lap, your back pressed against his firm chest. You let your head drop back onto his shoulder, his breath in your ear sending tremors down your back. His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch teasing against the fabric of your panties. Your pussy clenched in anticipation, and you moaned, a low, wanton sound that had Miguel restraining you firmly with his free arm.

“So needy for me, (Y/N).” With a quick flick of his wrist, he had pulled your panties off and let them drop to the floor. He draped your legs over his, opening you wide for him. His middle finger caressed your slick folds, frustratingly slowly. Patience wasn’t your strong suit, and Miguel very much enjoyed lording that over you.

A low rumble reverberated in his chest as he swatted at the side of your bare ass on his lap. “Beg for it,” he commanded, nipping hard at your neck. You yelped at the exquisite mix of pleasure and pain.

“Please, Miguel. Please, I need you.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, rocking on Miguel’s lap, as much as his hold would allow, desperate for more friction.

“That’s better,” he remarked as he plunged two fingers into you. Your mouth hung open in a silent cry, devastated by the feeling of him stretching you. The pace he set was savage, and you were quickly approaching the edge.

“Fuck, I – I’m so close,” you wailed, the rolling in your hips no longer under your control.

So he pulled his fingers out. A petulant whine escaped your throat before you could stop it and you heard Miguel tut chidingly in your ear.

“Up,” he ordered, and you rose off his lap. He pulled at your waist and bent you over the arm of the couch, positioning himself behind you. You heard his pants dropping to the floor before a firm smack landed first on one cheek, then the other, making you rock forward against the couch, wetness sliding between your thighs.

“Please,” you whispered, and Miguel cracked, pushing his thick cock between your folds. He sheathed himself inside you, his grip bruising on your hips. After giving you a moment to adjust to his size, he pulled out and slammed back into you, returning to his brutal pace from earlier. He looped a strong arm around your torso and hauled you up, his fingers finding their place in a firm grasp around your throat. He fucked furiously up into you, your living room permeated with primal grunts and moans.

Your fingers wandered needily to your clit, twirling around it until the tight coil in your belly snapped and you were coming, writhing so forcefully that you broke from Miguel’s grasp and caught yourself with trembling hands on the arm of the couch. Miguel reached down and gripped your hair, tugging just enough to turn your head to the side, watching you come down from your high. His cock was punishing inside you and you were trembling from overstimulation, but you knew he was close. His jaw clenched and he leaned over you, pressing his forehead against your spine, fucking you deep.

A few more thrusts like that and Miguel was coming undone inside you, his cock twitching with his release. From the corner of your eye, you could see the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he pulled out, immediately going to fetch a towel from the bathroom. He cleaned you up, placing gentle kisses on the red marks on your ass and combing his fingers through your hair. You grabbed his hand and led him to your bedroom, pulling under the covers with you, your eyes already heavy with sleep.

A short nap later, you shuffled back out to the living room, leaving Miguel asleep in your bed. Despite your little interlude, you had to be somewhat productive today. You sighed, steeling yourself for the stack of bills still awaiting you. Your rent and tuition bill would be the priority. There had been more fee hikes at the school, so you were probably looking at another couple of months of pulling as many doubles as you could manage to cover expenses. Plus, you had to consider the cost of your textbooks. As you perched on the edge of the couch with your elbows on your knees, you scanned the sea of papers looking for the tuition statement. Your eyes widened as you located it, a soft “what the fuck?” escaping your lips.

There was a check on top of it. For the total amount of your tuition for the semester. Signed by Miguel Galindo.

You picked up the check with trembling fingers, as though terrified it might disintegrate if you thought about it too hard. You stared at it, your thumb tracing over the check amount, as you stood robotically and made your way back to the bedroom.

Miguel was still asleep, facing the edge of the bed, the almost permanent stress lines around his eyes and mouth gone. You sat heavily on the floor beside him, your head almost touching his, still staring down at the check in your hands.

“Miguel, what is this?” you asked softly, and with a groan, he opened his eyes.

It took him a moment to register what was happening, but when he did, he shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t want you to have to work doubles all month. Then I’ll never get to see you.”

A quiet hum thrummed in your throat. “This is a lot of money,” you muttered.

His lips turned up into a grin, a hint of condescension behind his sleepy eyes. “No, it’s really not, princesa.”

Your brain worked hard to process what was happening. What he was doing. “Does this mean you’re like, paying me for sex, essentially?”

Miguel heaved a heavy sigh and sat up in bed, pulling you into his lap. He buried his nose in your shoulder, his lips gliding softly across your skin. “Consider it mutually beneficial. I need something from you,” he growled, trailing a hand teasingly under your shirt, “and you need something that I can give you in return. And like I said, I would be a very unhappy man if I never get to do this,” he continued, pinching your nipple roughly, eliciting a fragile whine as your mind snapped to attention, “because you’re always at work, especially when I can do something about it.”

You nodded, a little dazed, and Miguel pulled you against him as he laid back down, spooning you. You began to relax as you talked yourself into the arrangement. You were already having sex, right? So, this was just… sweetening the pot? You imagined for a moment how much less stressful your life could be if you didn’t have to spend all your time either in classes or at work to pay for classes. You could have more time to study, more time to cook so you wouldn’t be living on fast food. And you certainly weren’t going to turn down more time with Miguel.

You chuckled quietly and Miguel squeezed your hand questioningly.

“Does this make you my sugar daddy?” you asked with a laugh.

Miguel scoffed. “Not a fan of that term, but I suppose that is an accurate description.”

You rolled over to face him, meeting his heated gaze. You wrapped a leg over his hips and threaded your fingers into his hair, desire blossoming in your belly. “What about just daddy, then?”

You watched that signature smirk appear, the clenching of his jaw hinting at his swelling arousal. He rolled you onto your back, pinning you roughly to the bed. “Now that, querida, I can work with.”

#mayans fx #mayans mc #mayansmc #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans oneshot #miguel galindo oneshot

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Lucien’s Radio Broadcast Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 电台之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This date was released on 17 May 2021 ]

[ PROLOGUE ] 

Part One: A Weekend Arrangement

On the weekend morning, I wake up contentedly, doing a big stretch on the bed. 

Feeling for my phone beside the pillow, I tap on the unread text that was received five minutes ago.

Lucien: Are you awake? Little Lazy Bug.

A small smile involuntary surfaces on my lips. Nuzzling the soft pillow case, I get up at one go, washing my face and brushing my teeth.

After fifteen minutes, I knock on Lucien’s door.

MC: Lucien, it’s me!

Not a moment later, he opens the door, wearing light-coloured home wear that I rarely see, a pair of golden-framed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

It’s been a while since Lucien and I last saw each other. He has been staying in the research centre recently, and I’ve been busy with filming a new show.

Since we both have a rare break, we made arrangements to meet today.

Lucien: I even thought I’d only get to see you at noon.

Upset, I look at his teasing smile.

MC: In Professor Lucien’s eyes, am I a person who doesn’t keep to her promises? I finally get to see you, so of course I’m seizing every moment.

The arcs at the corners of his lips grow deeper. He turns his body to the side, beckoning me to enter.

Following Lucien into the living room, I see several thick English books left open on the coffee table, and my shoulders droop subconsciously.

MC: Lucien, do you have work to handle today?

Lucien turns around, his eyes curving when he sees my appearance. He walks to me, then lifts my shoulders up gently.

Lucien: Of course not. I finally get to see you, so of course I have to be entirely focused.

-

Part Two: Pondering on the Play

After releasing a secret sigh of relief, I become curious regarding the books on the coffee table. Picking up one of the books, I see its name on the title page - 

MC: “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare”? Are you reading Shakespeare’s works?

Lucien: To be more accurate, I’m selecting a play.

MC: Selecting?

Lucien doesn’t respond to my question, turning around and walking into the kitchen.

Lucien: Are there any plays that you like?

MC: Hm... I can’t think of any that I especially like. All the plays I’ve watched with you seem pretty good. What about you?

Lucien: Do you still remember the play we watched called “André & Dorine”?

[Trivia] André & Dorine depicts the enduring love between an elderly couple as their lives are disrupted, but not overcome, by dementia

MC: I remember! Was it that mime theatre production? I still remember how you pondered over the guitar case on stage for a long time after the performance was over.

Lucien: I wasn’t pondering much. It’s just that after watching it, I felt that life is very short.

Lucien brings over a cup of steaming hot cocoa from the kitchen. He places the cup in my hand naturally, his eyes meeting mine.

Lucien: It has to be spent with the person one loves.

-

Part Three: A Typical Day in the Radio Broadcast Station

The temperature within the house seems to rise along with the the piping hot cocoa. I pat my slightly flushed cheeks, pulling the conversation topic back.

MC: Come to think of it, why do you have to select a play?

Lucien sits down unhurriedly, his tone steady as he gives me an answer which leaves one utterly confused.

Lucien: I need to confess something to Producer MC -

Lucien: I accepted the invitation of another radio broadcast station.

After waiting for Lucien to finish with his short “confession”, I finally understand why he has to select a play.

Two days ago, Lucien received an invitation from the Loveland Radio Broadcast Station to participate in a 520 Special Broadcast Program called “A Day in a Play”.

[Note] 520 stands for 20 May, a day celebrated by the Chinese as another Valentine’s Day. This is because 我爱你 (“wo ai ni” - “I love you”) sounds like the numbers 5, 2, and 0 (“wu er ling”) when said aloud

This program regularly invites theatre fans from various occupations to share their favourite plays, and Lucien is one of them.

Hearing such news bogs me down with mixed feelings. On one hand, I’m silently in awe at the good choice made by the radio station. On the other hand...

I sneak a peek at Lucien. His head is currently lowered as he blows on the steam of the hot cocoa, his expression levelled.

...if I were to get jealous about Lucien agreeing to participate in another show, it’d be an incredibly inconsiderate thing, right?

Just as I think about this, Lucien suddenly lifts his head towards me. He crinkles his eyes into a smile, as though he has completely seen through the little grumblings in my heart from earlier.

Lucien: Oh yes, this show requires me to invite a partner. The Great Producer MC would grace me with her presence, won’t she?

-

[ DATE ]

Lucien: “Come live with me and be my love,”

Lucien: “And we will all the pleasures prove,”

Lucien: “That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,”

Lucien: “Woods, or steepy mountains yields.”

Lucien: “And we will sit upon rocks,”

Lucien: “Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,”

Lucien: “By shallow rivers to whose falls,”

Lucien: “Melodious birds sing madrigals.”

Lucien: “...if these flights thy mind may move,”

Lucien: “Then live with me and be my love.”

Lucien: What do you think about this poem? Do you like it?

Lucien sets down the manuscript in his hand, lifting his eyes slowly.

He’s leaning next to the window of the guest lounge. The warm light of spring falls on his shoulders, creating a mild, brilliant white halo in the air.

A few days ago, Lucien invited me to participate in the 520 Special Broadcast Program called “A Day in a Play”.

The content of this show consists of idle talk related to plays, and it regularly invites theatre fans from various occupations to share about their favourite plays.

The stanza that Lucien just read aloud came from a poem written by a playwright called Christopher Marlowe. 

MC: I like it very much.

Returning to my senses, my expression is sincere as I look at him.

MC: Lucien, have you ever thought of changing occupations and becoming an actor?

When Lucien hears this, his eyes arch into a smile. He walks over, tapping the manuscript gently on the top of my head.

Lucien: An exaggerated compliment would make it lose its sincerity.

Just as I’m about to firmly express my sincerity, I notice from the corner of my eye that there are several markings on Lucien’s manuscript.

Leaning over to get a better look, I realise that those markings are notes taken down on the poem by Lucien with a pen.

I recall how he’s been incredibly busy in the previous period, and how there were many times when I had to remind him to eat...

Even so, he made notes on the manuscript regarding reciting techniques for this show. In my heart, I deeply respect his endless energy. At the same time, I can’t help but be envious.

MC: Does Professor Lucien need to do homework beforehand too?

Lucien: Techniques are required for specialised skills. I’m not a professional at reciting poetry, so of course I need to do my homework beforehand. 

I deliberately fold my arms, letting out quiet “hmph”s.

MC: But you don’t seem to do any preparations as a consultant for Miracle Finder.

Lucien: Since I’m a consultant, I can’t let the producer of the show see me do last minute work.

He draws slightly closer to me, lowering his voice.

Lucien: At a place you can’t see, I’ve always been working hard for you.

The evident slyness in his tone causes my breathing to turn slightly ragged. Clearing my throat, I put some distance between us.

MC: [blushing] That’s not what I meant...

Lucien: I understand.

Meaningful arcs hook the corners of his lips, as though he sees through the feelings in my heart. He tugs me over to sit on the sofa in the guest lounge.

Lucien: Or should I only participate in the shows you produce next time?

MC: ...I’m not asking you to go that far either!

He narrows his eyes and turns his head to the side, pretending to give it some thought. 

Lucien: In that case, I’ll always ask for Producer MC’s opinion before appearing on a show. Is that okay?

I nod, face red from his teasing. All of a sudden, my heart stirs.

MC: Verbal statements can’t be relied upon. Concrete evidence is needed.

I lift my hand, removing the small hair tie on my ponytail. Then, I indicate for Lucien to give me his hand.

He seems to guess what I plan to do. Supporting his chin casually with one hand, he stretches the other hand in front of me.

With a serious expression, I put on the hair tie on his wrist solemnly, as though I’m conducting a formal ceremony.

MC: It shall be the evidence. In future, the Professor Lucien on the big screen will be completely reserved by me!

-

After sitting in the lounge for a while, the director comes over and goes through today’s show schedule with Lucien and I briefly.

The show is segmented into reading letters from theatre fans, reciting monologues from plays, and monologue appreciation, among other things.

In every episode, this show will choose a particular theme of plays, which will then be used to expand on the contents of the show.

In order to be in line with the special day of 520, the theme for this episode has been set as the “possessiveness” between lovers.

As such, the plays and characters we selected are related to “possessiveness”.

The first segment consists of sharing letters from listeners. The show team had collected various reviews of plays from listeners, as well as their personal takeaways from the plays.

There’s only ten minutes before the show begins. Seizing this final free time, I sit in the studio, skimming through these letters briefly.

Some of the letters include analysis spanning over a thousand words on the extreme possessiveness of some classic characters in plays...

Some of the letters created a hearty one-act play based on the word “possessiveness”.

My line of sight roams over these letters, and I can sense someone leaning over from the side.

Lucien: What are you looking at?

MC: Letters from the listeners. Which letter would you like to read later?

Lucien glances at the open letters on the table for a while. Then, the corners of his lips suddenly curve upwards.

Just as I'm about to follow his line of sight, the director gives us a signal from outside, telling us that the countdown to the broadcast is about to begin.

Suppressing my curiosity, Lucien and I begin today’s radio broadcast with the guidance of the host.

-

The segment of reading letters arrives on schedule. I select a satisfactory review of a play to read. Very quickly, it’s almost time for Lucien to read a letter.

Host: Would Professor Lucien be reading an interesting review of a play as well?

Lucien picks up a pink coloured envelope in the middle directly, as though he has long since made a decision.

Lucien: Even though it isn’t a review, ever since I saw this letter before the show, I really wanted to share it with everyone. However, it looks like the owner of this letter is female. If I were to read it, I’m afraid it’d be slightly inappropriate.

Lucien turns over, handing the letter to me.

Lucien: Could I request Producer MC to read it for me?

I blink, taking the letter without knowing what’s going on.

Opening the letter, the childish handwriting brings with it a fragrance as it unfolds before my eyes.

MC: “Hello hosts, I’m a student from junior high.”

Slightly puzzled, I look at Lucien. He smiles slightly, indicating that I should continue reading.

MC: “Recently, I’ve been feeling troubled.”

MC: “Ever since coming to junior high school, my deskmate has been a very playful boy, and he always bullies me.”

MC: “He often tugs on my ponytail, or asks me to give him my seat in the canteen. Even though he gives me snacks, he says that it’s only because he doesn’t want to eat them.”

MC: “While eating his snacks one day, a classmate suddenly teased us and asked if we liked each other. At that time, I was in a fluster and shouted without realising, ‘How could I like him!’”

MC: “Ever since then... my deskmate hasn't spoken to me.”

MC: “I thought I’d be really happy since I’m freed from his bullying. But whenever I see him distributing snacks to other girls, I actually feel the impulse to cry.”

MC: “I even secretly placed his snacks on my own table, pretending that my deskmate gave them to me...”

MC: “ --so that I can attempt to stake my claim in front of other girls.”

MC: “Last week, I watched a stage play, and the experiences of the lead character were somewhat similar to mine.”

MC: “Afterwards, I read the reviews. Everyone was saying that the lead character was fiercely possessive, and a little abnormal...”

MC: “Am I also such a person? What counts as being possessive? Is being possessive truly an illness?”

After reading the last line, I lift my head to meet Lucien’s eyes, giving him a knowing smile.

Host: I didn’t expect Professor Lucien to select such an adorable letter. How would you respond to this young listener’s question?

Lucien: I’m very sorry, but I’m unable to respond. This question might require a consultation with a professional. But I once read a document on concepts in psychology related to “possessiveness”, and I could share it with everyone.

Lucien stretches his hand towards me, and I hand the letter to him in tacit understanding. 

He unfolds the letter, casually lifting his spectacles. Then, he lowers his hand, his fingertips tapping rhythmically on the table.

The sound of tapping stops abruptly. He lifts his hand to support his lips, then tilts his head slightly, as though recalling the contents of the document.

Lucien: The following information is for everyone’s reference. Possessiveness is typically expressed as an exceptional cherishing of the other party, and being concerned about the other party in various aspects of their life.

For some inexplicable reason, along with Lucien’s words, I suddenly recall scenes of myself heading to the research centre to bring him bentos.

Lucien: Only allowing oneself and the other party to have a connection, and not wishing for others to get close to the other party.

My heart once again inexplicably recalls the bitter taste when I heard of Lucien participating in this show. 

Lucien: If one finds that the other party no longer belongs to them, they’d use all sorts of methods to stake their claim.

Lucien appears to deliberately twist his wrist slightly, revealing the small hair tie on it.

...I have a feeling that Lucien is implicitly referring to me. I keep my eyes on Lucien, and can’t help but purse my lips.

He seems to sense my “complaint”, but his eyes remain on the letter in his hand, a smile on his lips tugging upwards.

Lucien: This is simply a definition, and isn’t enough to ascertain the intensity of a person’s possessiveness. However, satisfying one’s possessiveness in an appropriate manner isn’t a bad thing. If possessiveness is unable to obtain a suitable outlet, it’d end up violently engulfing the originally balanced love. Furthermore, possessiveness isn’t a disease.

Lucien sets down the letter. As though sensing my gaze, he turns his head and gives me a slight smile.

Lucien: It accompanies a strong love. It’s a human instinct. 

-

After the letter reading segment, Lucien, as the main guest, has to read a monologue from a certain play in the next segment.

This play narrates an account in mid-century Europe, involving the love story of a wealthy lady and a butler who grew up together since young.

This butler was naturally more intelligent than others, and had a composed temperament. If he were to craft a career for himself, he’d do far better than being a butler.

However, in order stay by the side of his beloved lady, he was willing to remain within the four walls.

The naive wealthy lady didn’t understand the genuine feelings of the butler. Like every other wealthy lady, she looked forward to marrying her own prince. 

But when she was arranged to get married to a wealthy duke, her heart started to waver.

Because the intensity of the butler’s possessiveness went to his head, he eventually poisoned the wealthy lady, then vanished into the night.

With his own hands, he buried the love of his life, and from then on became a fugitive, living a life that was neither dead nor alive.

The monologue that Lucien is about to read is taken from the part after the butler finds out that the lady is inclined to marrying the duke. It’s the first time he reveals the depth of his possessiveness. 

Lucien selected this monologue himself, and I can’t help but anticipate it.

Host: Listeners and friends, we’ll now lend our ears to Professor Lucien -

Lucien nods slightly, tilting his head towards me and blinking slowly. His lowered voice gradually seeps into the earpieces.

Lucien: “I thought she was just a canary which would only sit by the window...”

Lucien: “When the sun rises every morning, she’d be at the glass window, facing the blazing sunlight and preening its feathers to its heart’s content.”

Rich affection is in Lucien’s voice. It’s as though I can see a talented and handsome young man staring at the girl’s back in the room with deep feelings.

Lucien: “Her wings are vibrant and heart-stirring. She spends a lot of time on them, combing them gently with a bristle brush.”

Lucien: “Whenever this happens, I’d stand behind her, carrying a cup of hot tea, waiting for her quietly.”

Lucien: “I know that in this moment, she belongs only to me.”

Lucien’s voice suddenly turns soft and barely discernible. I can’t help but be immersed in it -

The modern studio around me suddenly shifts, as though turning into wooden furniture in Western Europe.

Ripples of colour reflect off the windows and onto the floor, glistening with light. An expensive fragrance of rogue diffuses in the room.

Lucien: “Only I know what she's thinking of, and only I understand everything about her.”

I turn my head to Lucien, who is behind me. He’s wearing a fitting suit, standing at a spot where shadows and light mingle.

Lucien: “We will be forgotten in this place by the world, but the strings of fate will tie us together.”

He suddenly pauses, the intermingling of shadows and light distorting his expression into shreds. He trembles slightly in the darkness.

Lucien: “...before meeting that duke, she was always in front of that glass window, being my bird.”

Lucien: “She should realise that if she were to fly out, she would have cuts and bruises all over from those impetuous dandies.”

Lucien: “She would discover that there is an entire sky of canaries which are just as beautiful and frail as her. Those dandies only have to reach out gently--”

Lucien: “And her beloved feathers would be easily plucked out.”

Lucien: “If this is the ending... if this is the only ending...”

Lucien: “Then her feathers should belong to me.”

When I see his calm and shadowed expression, I hold my breath momentarily.

Lucien: “Only belonging to me.”

The monologue ends.

-

Lucien: In the short span of one minute, you’ve already hesitated to say something to me five times.

Lucien sighs, setting down the cup of water in his hand.

After the monologue ended, the subsequent segments no longer involve the guests that much.

Lucien and I have left the studio earlier, and are sitting on the sofa in the lounge, waiting for the show to officially come to an end.

It’s just that... ever since we stepped out of the studio and I saw Lucien returning to his normal state, my heart has had difficulties making the adjustment.

MC: ...I was just so stunned.

Tickled by the exaggerated tone in my voice, Lucien chuckles softly.

Lucien: I’ll take that as a compliment. 

MC: Of course it’s a compliment! I didn’t expect you to perform so well. You were basically an entirely different person earlier!

Lucien: I was simply portraying the role as I understood it. But I accept Producer MC’s compliment.

He takes a shallow sip of tea calmly, returning to how Lucien typically is, and completely different from the butler he was acting as earlier.

Seeing him like this, a question suddenly surfaces in my heart -

I wonder what Lucien’s possessiveness looks like?

-

Director: Sorry for the wait! The two of you have worked hard today!

After the show ends, the director returns to the lounge, carrying a stack of manuscripts in his hand.

Director: The responses for today’s show are extremely good! Many thanks to Professor Lucien and Miss MC for the spectacular performance!

Lucien: We’re also grateful for your invitation to participate in this show.

Director: Professor Lucien is too polite. Both of you truly did very well. The comment board for the show is filled with positive remarks. To tell you the truth, there’s something I need to ask of the two of you.

The director unfolds the manuscript in his hand. Lucien and I lower our heads to look at it. It’s the script from that earlier play.

Director: We’d like to include a special 520 Easter egg for this episode’s theme. It would be the final scene between the butler and the wealthy lady. Earlier, Professor Lucien’s monologue left a deep impression on the listeners, and the responses were very enthusiastic. If possible, could you and Producer MC record this Easter egg today?

The director clasps his hands together, inviting Lucien sincerely. However, Lucien turns his line of sight to me.

Lucien: My rights to participate in a show belong to this lady. If she agrees, I’ll naturally have no issues with it.

The director looks over in confusion. Just as Lucien is about to showcase the hair tie with a dead serious expression, I hurriedly agree.

MC: Yes! We can!

The director unclasps his hands quickly, preparing for the recording of the Easter egg. Lucien and I remain in the studio to go over the lines.

After familiarising myself with my lines, I lift my head, realising that Lucien is leaning against the sofa, reading the script meticulously and silently.

Seeing him look so serious, I suddenly become curious again.

MC: Lucien, could I ask you a question?

Lucien: Does it have to do with why I agreed to participate in this show?

MC: ...as expected, I can’t hide anything from you.

He sets down the manuscript, grinning as he tidies the hair at my ear.

Lucien: I simply care about you exceptionally. I’m guessing that what you want to know even more is why I’d bring you along to participate in this show.

My eyes widen slightly, and I give him a thumbs up.

He chuckles after seeing this. Waves of gentleness ripple in those eyes that have always been difficult to read.

Lucien: I know that we differ from others in the way we’re always handling our own matters. It’s difficult to meet, much less have each others’ time. I also know that you’re always doing your best to give your free time to me -

Lucien: Bringing me bentos with plenty of dishes, attending conferences when I release new books, and taking me to see the spring day in your eyes.

Lucien: So, I want to tell you that whether or not you can see it, I’m also doing my best to own every moment of your free time.

Lucien: To me, participating in this show is akin to watching a movie together. I simply want it to be a special moment for us which belongs only to you and me. 

He leans down, drawing closer to me, encasing my surroundings with his unique scent.

Looking into his eyes, a wave of gentleness seems to ripple in my heart, and my cheeks flush slightly.

MC: I’ll also do my best to create special moments belonging only to the both of us. I’ll invite Professor Lucien to look forward to them.

Lucien: You being like this is already good enough.

The corners of his eyes turn upwards, and he puts some distance between us.

Lucien: Let’s go over the lines together. The director’s waiting for us to record the Easter egg.

I nod. Taking a deep breath, I return my focus to the script again.

In the final scene between the butler and the wealthy lady, the wealthy lady is holding a love letter she wrote to the duke, naively wanting the butler to polish her writing.

Even though she senses that she shouldn’t let the butler see this letter, he’s the person she trusts most.

In front of the butler, she’s like a young girl experiencing her first awakening of love as she reads the love letter aloud.

The butler, whose unbridled possessiveness and intense jealousy have rushed to his head, finally poisons his beloved in his arms after she reads the final line.

Using a letter from a listener as a prop, I place it in his hand and begin the monologue.

MC: “You must definitely listen to this letter...”

MC: “It contains my heartfelt sincerity. No matter what, I don’t want there to be any mistakes.”

Lucien: "If you read it to me, it will be your first mistake.”

MC: “Please! You’ve never refused anything I ask of you. I’ll just treat it as tacit consent, just like always!”

MC: “Dearest Great Duke...”

MC: “I’m writing this letter to you, and it contains my sincerity...”

Following the script, I read the letter written to the duke.

MC: “...and with this, I look forward to your reply.”

These are the final words on the letter. Following this, there are a series of stage directions.

“The wealthy lady grips her love letter, brimming with anticipation as she stares out of the window. The butler is silent, handing her a cup of hot tea as he usually does.”

“The lady drinks it without putting up any defences, but doesn’t know that he had poisoned this cup. The love letter floats to the ground, and she falls into the butler’s arms.”

“...he speaks into her ear: ‘You belong only to me.’ The canary in his arms twitches for a while, then never stirs again.”

Seeing the tragic ending of this love story, my heart can’t help but sigh.

The butler’s love made him lose his mind. In order to possess his beloved forever, he pushed both himself and her into hell with his own hands.

I recall the scene from before when Lucien was reading the monologue, and how he usually has eyes as calm as a deep pond.

That earlier thought once again surfaces in my mind -

I wonder what Lucien’s possessiveness looks like?

Just when I’m thinking about this, I feel a forceful tug on my arm.

I stumble, then fall into familiar arms. 

Puzzled, I turn my head towards Lucien. A sense of restraint is concealed in his eyes, and the unfathomable dark eyes hold within them intense emotions. 

Lucien: “This letter will never be sent, just as the bird will forever remain in her cage.”

Lucien takes a deep breath, leaning his weight against my body.

I feel scorching breaths on my exposed shoulders, and his hand brushes against my lips gently.

Lucien: “You can only belong to me.”

A familiar scent cages me in his embrace. For a moment, I’m unable to tell if the person before me is the butler who went mad because of love, or if he’s Lucien himself.

I abruptly return to my senses - the performance should already be over.

However, Lucien doesn’t let go of me, as though he hasn’t disengaged from the performance. 

Just as I prepare to remind him that it’s over, he suddenly leans near, leaving a soft kiss at the corner of my lips.

Lucien: Very sweet. I’m referring to the taste of the tea.

Stunned, I look at Lucien - he’s changing the ending of the script...

While he looks at me, the foreign emotions in his eyes suddenly vanish. Then, he crinkles his eyes into a smile, just like how he smiles at me every time.

I already knew that I couldn't hide anything from him.

This is his response to that question I’ve never asked -

Lucien: The person I want to possess will eventually possess me.

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