#me waking up on a day i Have To Do Something: fuck 5 minut e until i am laye

[yael-things]

guys i have been sleeping so badlately i think my brain hates me . i woke up in cold sweat today 8 in the morning (went to sleep at 4am) bc i thought it was 2pm and i dreamed of my dad and my brother scolding me for sleeping in (they sleep in regularly . they literally do not give a shit) wtf wtf wtf

#dont wanna go 2 sleep rn (it is 2 am) #my legs r itching cos i waxed i will Not b able 2 get Any Sleep brk #my brain always makes me wake up at Least 2 hrs earlier than i should . #except when its convenient . which is annoying . late 2 my piano classes cos i slept xtra 30 min #fuck this stupud baka life #yael.blogs #me waking up on a saturday morning (no shit to do): 6am AUHGHG THE ENERGY cannot sleep mkre #me waking up on a day i Have To Do Something: fuck 5 minut e until i am laye #like what. come on. #i shoild probably just sleep better #but my brain does not let me #eughhgn . leave me Alone #rant

[daughterofthebitch]

𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖸 𝖣𝖮𝖭'𝖳 𝖪𝖭𝖮𝖶 𝖠𝖡𝖮𝖴𝖳 𝖴𝖲 — Charlie Bushnell fanfic (parts of instagram and chat au)

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WELCOME TO EPISODE 01, ARE YOU READY FOR IT?

@ellarue

liked by gwendolineuniverse, masonalexanderpark, momonatamada, and others

ellarue Tempus Frangit ⏳️ Thank youuuuu ladyyyyy for the photos @gwendolineuniverse

↳ See comments

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masonalexanderpark Beautiful as always <33 Do you know who will also think this? TOMM, let me go show him the true face of his little sister

↳ ellarue show... show and you will see where your makeup ends up.

↳ masonalexanderpark IT WAS A JOKE ELLA, YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU HONEY <33

↳ ellarue UHUMMMMMMM ME TOO <33

gwendolineuniverse You're welcome dear, they look really pretty, but with a model like that it's hard not to.

↳ ellarue Don't talk like that or you will kill a delulu🤭🤭 (I'M THE DELULU)

↳ xochitl.gomez STOP HITTING ON MARRIED WOMAN ELLA

↳ momonatamada She can't take it, a beautiful married woman appears, and she is like this 🥺🥺

↳ ellarue SHUT UP KKKKKKKKKKKKKK I HATE YOU GUYS, please ignore them Gwen <33

↳ gwendolineuniverse It's fine dear 🤭

momonatamada I wanted to get out of the banality of saying that "you're beautiful", but you as Delirium are another level

↳ xochitl.gomez I remember when she tried on the wig for the first time, she freaked out thinking it would look ugly for the role, like... GIRL, HAVE YOU EVER LOOKED IN THE MIRROR?

↳ ellarue I promise, you are the bestiess I could ask for (It doesn't even look like I wanted to kill you two seconds ago)

↳ xochitl.gomez I love the aesthetic of us being like, FUCK YOU BITCH <33

↳ ellarue @Netflix I NEVER SAID THAT!!!!!!!!!!

user1 Qual a chance de eu e Delírio nos casarmos? (What are the chances of me and Delirio getting married?)

↳ user2 Talvez no dia que ela estiver sã? (Maybe the day she's mentally healthy?)

↳ user1 Merda! (Shit!)

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I throw my cell phone on the bed laughing, I loved it when the comments turned into complete chaos.

The weather today was very good for sleeping, the problem is that, at the moment, I'm having an insomnia crisis. My insomnia attacks always intensify when I'm working on something important, but I always try to ignore them. And that's exactly why at 00:37 I'm scrolling through Instagram, even though I wake up in 5 hours and a few minutes.

My cell phone vibrates at my side, easily gaining my attention. Who could be sending messages at this time? Did something go wrong? I turn on the screen looking for information and then...

"iamcharliebushnell liked your post"

Ah... it was nothing important... Starting to reassure myself again, I go to the profile of the person who liked my photo, something I do whenever I have time. And wait, does Mo follow him? He looks a little familiar to me.

My interest in the profile becomes sudden, or maybe it's just sleep starting to speak louder. Browsing the account I find photos from the end of 2023 that make me understand the reason for the familiarity. He is Luke, like Luke Castellan in the Percy Jackson series, aka one of my biggest crushes in the series (if we don't count Clarisse).

There was just one problem... When we are in the sleep stage, we don't think very well what to do. Or sometimes we don't even think about it. And that's my excuse for liking a photo of him from months ago.

To make my situation worse the next day, I felt my eyes finally get heavy, sleep would consume me and I could finally have a night of peace. Or that's what I thought. I fell asleep a few minutes after that.

___

I woke up quickly with the alarm, also who wouldn't wake up when they have Momona and Xochitl screaming in their ear. Yes, they made a personalized audio for me to use with an alarm, that's why I love my girls.

I pick up my phone, seeing that its battery is empty, great, I forgot to put it on charge last night. I walk to the bathroom and continue with my standard routine.

On the way to the film set I was finally able to turn on my cell phone to check the news and the thousands of notifications from my friends didn't seem like a good thing...

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Hey darlingsss, this is the first episode of this fanfic, I hope you like it <33 As it is the first chapter, it was a little shorter than the others and more stationary, as it is just to introduce the protagonist to you. I really hope you like it, really do!!!

*Spoiler: The next episode will be from Charlie's point of view.

*Obs: If you couldn't see it correctly, here's the screenshot from Instagram.

Tag list: @siriusblacksgf @idiewhenrhythmgamesdie @taygrls @jules-loves-lukecastellan @lostinhisworld @iludidaefodida @goopoems @lucycarlisleswife @blairfox04

#luke castellan x y/n #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan #pjo #pjo series #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #Charlie bushnell fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #instagram au

[hopeluna]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ — Barista!Izuku Midoriya

♡! hope's notes: this is 50% unrealistic and 50% self indulgent. Tell me what u think lol <3

It's 7 in the morning when you realise that you're truly, utterly fucked.

You try to convince yourself that it was really your alarm's fault for not waking you up. Because now you are desperately trying to shove everything in your bag, while chewing on the world's driest granola bar and make your way out of your apartment.

You do the calculation in your head as you make your way down the stairs, trying not to trip. Your class is supposed start at 7:15, so you have approximately 5 minutes to get a much needed cup of coffee. And then you need to make run for your class which is 15 minutes, hoping to whatever deity that you'll reach there in 10 minutes.

A groan of frustration escapes you on the sidewalk at the utter slow pace the lady is moving in front of you, talking animatedly on the phone.

You've been late to class enough times this entire week that you're convinced your professor is going to shoot you in the head today. The first thing you notice in front of the cafe is how cute and cozy it looked. Like something straight out of a rom-com set.

There were small little coffee shops like this scattered through almost every road corner outside the campus. Coffee shops, cheap diners and stationaries all looking out for their target customers, drained college students.

This particular coffee shop, you had realised one day talking with your friends, was new and untouched by your hands. You knew that logically it wasn't a great time right now to experiment newly opened shops, no matter how much your friends had been praising the place but you were already late, and the decor and smell of roasted coffee beans seemed too appetizing to pass up.

The gentle chime of the bell at the entrance almost made you forget that your life could possibly be on the line in less than 10 minutes. Your shoulders loose some tension at the faint but noticeable fragrance in the air, the smell of coffee and the muffled sounds of students clicking away on their computers, couples chatting away in excitement and the sound of the workers behind the counter.

Oh yeah, you were definitely forgetting about class for some minutes.

Tapping your fingers to a random rhythm, your eyes immediately go to the cheapest drink on the big menu overhead the counter. Being a college student, you weren't really raking up the big bucks and would rather like to be able to afford instant ramen in the future.

And that's when it happened.

You swore that you almost went blind for about 2 seconds at the absolute beaming, sunshine-filled smile the barista gave you. The simple words "what can I get for you today?" suddenly sounded like the most holiest piece of angel music coming out of his mouth. He was cute, like a lot, with lush green curls falling messily atop his head, freckles doted like stars across his cheeks. You briefly registered the small "Midoriya" name plate attached to his shirt.

"Um, e-excuse me?"

"Yes?"

"I- what can I get you, ma'am?"

"Your number, hopefully"

Shit. The wide eyes and the full flush creeping up on his cheeks made you almost shriek in horror, you didn't mean to say that aloud. Suddenly, the once calming air felt stifling and uncomfortable.

"Uh! I mean- no!", wincing at your own volume, you suddenly wished that the earth would just open up and swallow you whole. "You see, um, that was- a joke! A bad joke!". It took all your strength to not bash your head on the counter under your sweaty palms, cringing at yourself.

The nervous laugh that "Midoriya" let out certainly didn't help the situation either.

You felt the tension lifting off your chest when a girl came up to the counter to ask for more creamer. The next course of action was probably not your proudest moment, definitely something you would look back at and curse yourself for. In your defence, your mind felt scrambled and fried at the whole interaction, so you did the only thing your brain managed to comprehend. You ran.

A few minutes later, already at your campus, you stopped for a second for breath. The frustrated whine you let out next was met with some questioning glances your way that you could not be bothered about right now, your mind only swirling with one thing.

You didn't even get your fucking coffee.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #mha x you #bnha x y/n #mha x y/n #bnha deku #bnha imagines #mha deku #mha imagines #bnha oneshots #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #deku x reader #deku x y/n #bnha fluff #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #midoriya x reader #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you

[wardenparker]

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 8

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.    

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Angst, revelations, confessions, emotional vulnerability! Oh, and fingering. Summary: Physical and emotional healing is in the cards the day after Jack rescues you from the Rollins boys. Notes: Guys, I’m not going to lie. I just keep crying. Writing, editing, proofing, crying. All day every day.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

Exhaustion and an adrenaline crash combine with Ginger’s injection to keep you knocked out all the way back to the campus in Louisville. Six hours is all Ginger said you would need to heal completely and she was right - almost down to the minute. It’s past sunrise outside when you wake up, not that you can see the sun in Ginger’s lab, but when you groan slightly in your sleep and turn your head, the world doesn’t spin the way it had just hours before.

Jack grunts, leaning forward in the seat Ginger had finally relented and put next to the capsule where you were healing. Watchful for any tiny movement, he reaches out to the glass between the two of you with the need to touch you, to reassure you. “Come on sugar, open those pretty eyes for me.”

It isn’t easy to do. The lights are blindingly bright, and you’ve forgotten where you are, causing you to panic immediately before seeing Jack’s face staring back at you outside the pod that you don’t really remember Astrid explaining to you. It only calms you slightly though, seeing him, before guilt and a different kind of fear set in. If Jack is here, and you’re in one of Ginger’s isometric pods, then it wasn’t all just a terrible dream.

“Shhhhh shhhh it’s okay.” The chair scrapes back as he stands. “Ginger, open this fucking thing!” He doesn’t want you to panic and he can see the whites of your eyes already. At least they aren’t filled with blood anymore where vessels had burst. He punches in buttons and yanks on the handle for the door, opening it up. “It’s okay, sugar. You’re safe.”

“You’re here.” Though it’s obvious that you’re questioning why, with your voice so quiet it comes out almost awestruck.

“I’m here, sugar, I’m here.” Jack promises, reaching in and smoothing back your hair gently and cupping your cheek. He hadn’t been able to touch you for six hours, not even hold your hand and it’s burning through him to just reassure himself that you are here and okay. “You did so good, sugar. Hangin’ on. You’re so—” He swallows harshly, remembering how swollen your cheek was. “You did good. I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

“I didn’t tell them anything.” Not even understanding who they were or what they wanted, all you could really go on was that not telling them anything was the only appropriate course of action. Apparently all those spy movies were good for something after all. “I—I promise I didn’t.”

“Doesn’t matter, sugar.” Jack murmurs, kneeling down and looking up at you seriously. “They’re never gonna hurt you again. You don’t hafta worry about that.”

“They wanted you.” That much was abundantly clear. Knowing what you do about Jack, you know they never would have managed to corner him without leverage. And apparently you made excellent leverage. “I’m…” You shudder with tears that won’t come. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jack frowns, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. It’s me they wanted. They used you to get to me. You were innocent, sugar. I’m sorry you got caught up in something that you shouldn’t have.” He means the feud with the Rollins, not because you’re his soulmate. He’s so fucking guilty because they targeted you. Still unsure of why they decided to try to get into Statesman after all these years. Maybe they had been all along, and the restaurant was the opportunity. Doesn’t matter, they’re dead now.

“I wasn’t wearing the bracelet.” The one he gave you. The one you had faithfully put on your wrist beside the bangle from your little sister. “I was…I was mad…so I took it off…”

“Just means I need to track your earrings.” He jokes, the halfhearted smile that he had attempted sliding off his face when you are staring down at your hands and he sighs softly. “It’s okay, sugar. I— I found your bracelet. The one you dropped. Did you do it on purpose?” He pulls the charm out of his pocket and offers it to you.

“Yeah…” Tired despite feeling better, picking up your hands feels like weightlifting. “I thought…if you realized…you might recognize it.” It was a longshot, but it’s good to know it worked.

“You did perfect, sugar.” Jack’s hands are incredibly gentle, and he takes your wrist and puts the bracelet around it again. Making sure the clasp is secure and then brushing his thumb over it. “There it is, back where it belongs.” Just like you are back near him where you belong.

“Did Ginger…” Here, in her lab, she is Ginger. Her code name seems irreversibly attached to this place. “Did she…I asked her to get rid of everything.” Your hands are free of the nicks and cuts, arms bearing no trace of burns you had gotten all through your career. You’re unmarked. Unattached. So he should be, too.

Jack sighs softly, nodding. “Why did you do it?” He wants to hear you say it. He’ll hear you say that you want nothing to do with him and then he’ll leave you alone. Go work in the New York office or go back out to the field. Just as long as you are safe.

If you were feeling stronger you might have laughed. Or at least snorted. Some derisive sound of disbelief would have been much more intelligent than the way you stare at him in the blinding light of the lab. If he really doesn’t know then he’s an idiot, and if he’s just making you say it for his own satisfaction, then he’s cruel. Either way, you swallow thickly when you look away from him and shut your eyes. “For you.” You tell him honestly, because you don’t have the emotional energy to be mean spirited. “So you can be free.”

So he could be free. Jack swallows slightly and shakes his head. It doesn’t seem like you hate him now although maybe you’re just shellshocked. Shock does weird things to people. “Honey, it doesn’t work like that.” He murmurs softly. “We’re still soulmates.”

“She was your soulmate.” If you could, you’d be sobbing by now. Wracked with them. In agony. You’d be a sniveling, pathetic mess instead of the broken version of yourself you’ve become. “I’m…I don’t fuckin’ know. But at least you can pretend I don’t exist. I know that’s what you want.”

“Sugar, I was— fuck, I was so wrong.” Jack grabs your hands and holds onto them. “I was— I thought I was bein’ disloyal to her memory. Betrayin’ her by having another soulmate. You never did anything wrong. I just— I was scared of how easy it was bein’ around you and how quickly I could—” He cuts himself off, knowing you don’t want to hear about him falling in love with you. You’d never believe it, not after what he’s done to you. “I know I traded my life for yours in a heartbeat and I’d do it again.”

“Why?” In the moment it had made no sense to you, and no clear, shining light has shone on your confusion since then. Hearing Jack agree to take your place without hesitation had flared so much hope, despair, and confusion in your heart that it was like having a chorus of screaming fury in your mind. “I still don’t understand. You could’ve—” He could have let the men kill you. He could have been free of you that way instead and it might have hurt less than believing your soulmate hates you. “Is it just…company policy?”

Jack chokes, hating that you think it’s company policy to not let anything happen to his soulmate. “No sugar…it’s not.” He murmurs softly, knowing this is all his fault. He’s done nothing to make you believe he likes you. “I couldn’t let him hurt you anymore. I would have never let him hurt you if I—” he shakes his head. “If I hadn’t been a goddamn fool.”

He’s clinging to your hands almost desperately, and you could swear you heard his voice crack but it’s just wishful thinking. Even after what you just went through - what you survived - you still find yourself grasping at the impossible fantasy of him someday caring about you. You won’t even go all the way to love anymore. Just as long as he doesn’t hate you, that’s all you’re really asking for. “It’s okay.” The words feel almost alien, but you look over at him and offer him a pinched smile. “You’re a good agent, Jack. And you can go back in the field now. I’m sorry I was stubborn.”

“The field…sugar, someone from my past nearly killed you and you’re talking about me goin’ back to work?” He’s totally bewildered, wondering if you are in shock or denial about the entire damn thing. He knows that Ginger will set you up with the Statesman therapist. “I went to therapy for you.” He blurts out.

“I’m talking about you getting your life back after I—” You started in so quickly that when he blurts out the word ‘therapy’ you turn back to look at him with bewilderment. “What? Why?” Sure you’re both stubborn, but that’s not exactly therapy-worthy.

“After I—” Jack flushes with shame. “After I exploded on you, I – I knew I needed to fix it. Fix me.” He squeezes your hands gently. “You deserve more than a fucked-up soulmate who had his head so far up his ass he couldn’t see if the sun was shinin’.”

“Plenty of people have platonic soulmates.” It’s been a mantra for you for weeks now. Reassuring yourself that the world won’t end if he doesn’t feel the same way about you that you do about him. It’s not going to end your life. It will be okay. That’s what you told yourself, as you tried desperately to shake the blazing sensation in the memory of kissing him months ago. “I just don’t want you to be unhappy anymore, and…and I know you’ve been unhappy.”

“I’ve been unhappy because I want you.” Jack confesses softly. “And I didn’t think I deserved another soulmate because I couldn’t protect Abigail and I felt guilty because I thought it would be like forgettin’ her.”

“You could never forget her. You love her.” But the mere wisp of the idea that he doesn’t hate you? It seems to light you up from the inside out like a lawn ornament. Hope, as powerful and resilient as any other force in the universe, encouraging your heart to try beating again. “Honestly? I’m jealous. I never got to know anything about my first soulmate. But…I never would have asked you to forget her.”

“I can— I can show you his file.” Jack offers quietly. “Everything Statesman has on him. They had to, you know, investigate.”

“Thank you.” It isn’t quite the same, but you squeeze his hands in gratitude and try to remember to breathe. This is a much heavier conversation than you ever thought you would wake up to. “I don’t know what things would have been like with him, but he deserves to be remembered.”

“He seems like he was a good man.” Which made Jack killing him even harder to accept.

“I don’t blame you for protecting yourself.” Since you can’t ever say what you would have done in his position, and since it won’t bring the man back in the first place, there was no point in hanging on to that anger. It did nothing but make you upset and keep you from moving forward. “Not anymore. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I’m sorry sugar, I know I’m the worst possible kind of soulmate you could ask for.” Jack lifts a hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it gently. “I’m sorry for denying you the possibility of gettin’ to know him. He worked at the hotel. Where the weddin’ was.”

"That's why you backed out?" That little act of affection, as simple as it is, has you squeezing your mouth shut quickly so you don't sigh wistfully or something equally ridiculous. "If you had told me, I would have understood."

“I—” He shakes his head and sighs. “I’m— it’s been a long time since I’ve had to explain myself, sugar. And I was feelin’ fucking guilty because of - well, that kiss. Because if Diana hadn’t interrupted us, I would have had you spread out on your counter.”

"I think my exact words were that I would have worn a dress if I'd known you'd come by horny." It stings, still, but you have to laugh at yourself. If you don't you'll just...shrivel up somehow. "I would have let you. Happily."

“I know. I know you would have. And it scared me.” Jack presses another kiss to the back of your hand. “Because I know how easy it would be to love you, sugar. So I ran like a damned coward.”

"I stayed away." It's almost like you're begging somehow, pleading to be told that you did the right thing, even though you're fairly certain that there is no right or even better thing to do in this circumstance. You would genuinely be shocked if anyone in the world had ever been in this situation ever before. "I stayed away and I never asked you for anything except friendship. I tried to do what was going to make you happy, I swear."

“Honey, you were never the problem.” Jack assures you, looking up and begging you to believe him. “I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me. Never. You are kind and good and sweet and sexy, I— I fucked up.”

"Hate you?" You huff, shaking your head. Your reaction is instant, disbelieving, and out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. "I love you, you idiot. I've done everything you ever asked no matter how much it hurts because I love you."

Jack closes his eyes and inhales shakily. “Sugar, I don’t deserve your love.” He whispers softly. “I pushed you away, I didn’t protect you, I hurt you.” He opens his eyes and there’s a definite wobble to his chin as he tries to compose himself. “But all I could think about was getting to you. Making sure that the other portions of my soul was safe.” He swallows. “I love you too, sugar. I do.”

There's nothing in his face that tells you he's lying, or that he's forcing himself. If anything, he looks...relieved. Your eyes roam every minute expression you can see, trying to digest the situation and realizing that you might both have come around to this in the most monumentally dramatic and fucked up way possible - but that you still both came around to it. Whether that's the soulmate connection or the threat of almost losing each other making you be honest with yourselves, you can't ever know. "Really?"

“Really.” Jack bends down and kisses your hand again, one and then the other. Inching closer to you from his position on the floor in front of you. It’s not something he would do for anyone but he had meant it when he said he would grovel. “It’s why I ran, why I fought it so hard. Because I knew. I fucking knew that I was going to love you. And I do but I don’t want to fight it anymore.”

"What do you want, then?" Whatever it is, if there's any way for you to give it to him, the way your heart has jumped up into your chest tells you with absolute certainty that you'll give it to him.

“I wanna take you out on a date.” Jack decides, knowing that things need to be taken slow. “I want- would you go to therapy with me?” It surprises him that it comes out of his own mouth, but he’s not going to take it back.

"That's the weirdest damn proposal in history." He's down on his knees asking so formally that the whole thing would just read like a comedy routine if it weren't so serious. "Get up, Jack. And...help me sit up? I feel like an astronaut in this thing and this is an important conversation."

Jack pushes to his knees and helps you sit up. “Slowly— you can feel a little dizzy when you’re first gettin’ out of one of these.” He knows that firsthand.

He's completely right, annoyingly so, and you cling to his hand for a second while you adjust to sitting up again and the dizziness subsides. It reminds you of the time you got vertigo at that theater in Boston years and years ago. "Okay." Once you're feeling a little more like yourself, you breathe out slowly and tilt your head at him. "So...you want to take me on a date...to couples therapy? Do I have that right?"

“No.” Jack chuckles, shaking his head and rolling his shoulders down. “I’d like you to go out on a date with me. But then I’d also like to attend a couple’s therapy session with you. To work out the problems between us. To let you get out your issues and better explain mine.” He shrugs. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

"Our issues aren't a little..." You cringe slightly. "Classified? Unless...Statesman probably has a therapist on staff, doesn't it?"

“They do.” Jack nods. “It’s the one that I saw before I – when I was such an ass to you. Got my tail handed to me for that.” He confesses, embarrassed at his behavior.

"Jack..." His hand is still in yours from helping you sit up, and you hold onto it a little harder out of nerves. "I don't want you to do this just because of what happened. But if you actually want to give us a chance?" You might just be able to muster some tears if he actually wants to be with you. Joy instead of sadness or fear. "Then my answer is going to be yes every time."

“I was watchin’ your cabin.” Jack murmurs softly. “Waitin’ for you to come out so I could talk to you. Apologize and ask if you would have dinner with me. To let me try to make it up to you.”

"Yes." It's as simple as that, as far as the request goes, and you rub your thumb gently over the back of his hand. "Anytime, anywhere."

Even though he’s relieved that you would be willing to entertain the idea of stepping out with him, Jack chuckles. “I don’t deserve you, sugar. At all.” He promises, staring into your eyes and wondering how you can be willing to do that after being beaten because of him. “Is there anything you want to know? Right now? About— what happened?”

“I don’t understand most of it,” you admit, wishing you could live in the glow of Jack’s willingness to give you a try but knowing that questions and answers will be less traumatic now than they would be down the line. Letting worries or wonderings fester won’t help either of you in the long run. “He liked to hear himself talk, so there was a lot that he said that I didn’t understand. But…who was he? Just someone from your past?”

Jack sighs, lifting a hand and smoothing your hair back again. “Do you want me to tell you here, or do you want to go home? Curl up with a hot toddy?” He offers softly. He knows your throat doesn’t hurt anymore, but it might be more comfortable than in Ginger’s lab.

“Will you ask Ginger if it’s okay for me to leave?” Going home and curling up with Jack sounds monumental, but you’ve never been one to go against a doctor’s advice. If she says you need to stay put, you’ll keep sitting here. Although the things you’d do for a shower and some clean clothes are pretty extensive.

"Ging?" Jack knows that Ginger is going to respond immediately when he presses the button on his watch.

"Yes Jack?" The answer comes through the speaker and allows you to hear her as well.

"Can I take her home?" He asks, keeping a hold on your hand and giving you a small smile.

"All the injuries are healed; she is okay to go home but I do want to follow up tomorrow after she's rested and get her scheduled with Dr. Masters." She tells Jack before he addresses you. "I want you to rest. Don't go into the restaurant today. Or tomorrow. Your sous chef is taking care of everything and your family has all been assured that you are okay. We are sending the jet for them to come see for themselves tomorrow. I managed to hold them off until then."

“What did you tell them?” Knowing your family, they would have demanded details. A journalist mother and a nosy father are not the kind of people that take ‘no’ for an answer or accept vague assurances.

“That you had been involved in a corporate espionage ordeal and the ATF was in charge for now.” The slight misuse of government names had proved ideal to get them to back off.

“My father is going to be making rum runner jokes for a year once he sees I’m okay.” You laugh, shaking your head and relishing the warmth of Jack’s hand still firmly in yours. As much as you want to resume your normal life and just put your head down at work, you know they’re right. You need rest and distance. At least the rest of your staff is excellent - Tripp Rollins notwithstanding. “Okay. Home, then. Home to rest.” Your eyes move to Jack and find him watching you intently. “And to talk a little bit more.”

Jack nods, helping you stand up and if he didn’t think you would yell at him, he would just pick you up and carry you. The clothes you had been in were ruined and cut off of you, so you are now in just a clean set of scrubs that were used when the lab gets messy. “We’ll get you home and I promise we will talk about whatever you want for as long as you want.”

“And maybe eat something?” The smile you shoot him is sheepish, but you’re just starting to realize how hungry you are. “I think the last time I ate anything was days ago.”

“Shit, yeah. I’ll— I’ll make you something.” Jack promises, hating how you’ve been treated. They could have fucking fed you.

“We’ll manage.” You’re not about to let go of him, but you do feel okay other than being tired. Jack walks you through the building, holding every door and helping you down every step, and you have a feeling that if he could he’d have just carried you all the way to the Bronco to make sure not so much as a pebble even got in your way. Once he has you settled in the truck it takes no time at all to get back to your neighborhood, and you sigh in quiet relief to see your little house again.

“Sorry I went inside.” Jack moves the lever into park and looks over at you once he’s parked beside your cabin, his Bronco tucked in next to the little car that was yours. “But I didn’t really go through anything.”

“It’s okay.” Being home again - and you really do think of it as home - is more peaceful and reassuring than you had expected, and you lean on his shoulder for a second. “If you hadn’t, who knows what would have happened to me.”

“I don’t even want to think about that, sugar.” Jack’s voice breaks and he opens the door to the Bronco to step out and help you out of the truck.

“You’re getting soft on me, Jack.” You tease, nudging him a little on the porch. The biometric scanner that opens your door isn’t satisfying like a physical key is, but you appreciate the security of it now more than ever.

“I don’t think you understand how badly I wanted to— how I hated myself for not getting to you sooner. For every second you spent in their gasp.” Jack murmurs, guiding you inside and closing the door behind you. He guides you to the couch and helps you down even though you can walk. “I’ll make you something to eat.” He promises, knowing that you would have plenty in your fridge, even if it was just the makings for some kind of sandwich or omelet.

“I really don’t understand.” The care with which he’s tucked you in on the couch makes you not want to get up again, convinced he’ll just come back to retuck if you fuss. But you twist around a little to be able to watch him in your kitchen, surprised when your chest clenches watching him in your space. Your sanctuary. “I thought you hated me. And even if I understand now why you were acting the way you were, it still…” You bite your lip momentarily and look down at your hands, remembering the scars you had removed for him. “It’s going to take a while for me to process, that’s all.”

“I’m not asking for anything, sugar.” Jack promises you. “Take all the time you need.” He opens the fridge and hums when he sees all the options and looks over at you. “What are you feeling like eatin’? You want some tea? Or that hot toddy I promised you?”

“A hot toddy sounds good.” Deciding that you don’t care what time of day it is, you nod. Surely being a victim of kidnapping disqualifies you from petty things like waiting until the afternoon to drink. “I’m pretty sure there’s leftovers in there from the night before I left. Probably enough for two, if you’re into reheated chicken pot pie for breakfast.”

“How about some chicken pot pie and some garlic bread?” He asks, finding half a loaf of French bread on the counter. “Unless you want me to make you an omelet? I’m not as good as you are, but I won’t kill ya with my cookin’.”

“Good garlic bread is worth its weight in gold.” Even the sound of it has you salivating and your stomach rumbling. “Let’s use the leftovers. I’d hate for them to waste.” You’re tempted to suggest omelets for dinner - one of your favorite comfort meals - but don’t want to presume that he’ll be spending the entire day with you.

"Okay. I'm going to use this garlic you've got in the fridge." The pot of garlic confit is only recognizable because Abigail craved it while she was in her second trimester. She would slather it on everything, making Jack joke that at least they knew she wasn't carrying a vampire. He chuckles to himself as he pulls it out along with a hunk of cheese to grate over the top.

“I have a feeling that if I offer to help I’m going to get a dirty look, otherwise I’d be in there with you.” It’s equal parts soothing and wrenching to watch him, and if you were feeling a little saucier you’d probably be focused on his ass as he moves around your kitchen.

"You're gonna sit your pretty little ass right there and let me take care of you." Jack warns, raising a brow at you before he flips the kettle on to boil water for your tea. "I was helpless when you were unconscious. All I could fuckin' do was hold you and pet your damn hair. Now I can make sure you're okay."

“You stayed with me?” After everything he’s said today, you’re not really sure why that surprises you. But reconciling Jack’s apparent true feelings for you to how he’s acted around you for the last few weeks isn’t exactly easy.

"Haven't left your side since gettin' out of that fuckin' warehouse." Jack admits, not looking over at you and instead focusing on mixing the garlic confit with butter to spread onto the soft interior of the bread so he can toast it.

“Shit…” The curse is soft under your breath, but it comes with a shake of your head and a fond smile that he can’t see. “We really have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

"We do and I guess that we should start at the beginnin'." Jack sighs, knowing that telling the story of his background would be easier while he's concentrating on something other than talking. It's not something he enjoys rehashing. "The Rollins boys and I have a history that is long convoluted. My family and his, settled into the same valley in the 1800s and started ranches."

“Hatfield and McCoy style shit?” It’s the first set of names that comes to mind with the whole ‘blood feud’ thing, which is certainly what all of the crazy shouting had sounded like.

"Kinda....'cept my family didn't engage in the crazy. It started as a land dispute. Which I'm sure was violent back then. But..." He shakes his head. "It seems like they've always had a few screws loose. And when our ranch was surviving when theirs was goin' under, it seems to make the grudge even worse."

“I don’t even know where you’re from.” It seems to occur to you out of nowhere, even as you watch him studiously avoid looking at you while he cooks. “I mean I would have guessed Southern, but I’m not exactly an ace with accents. You could be from Alaska for all I know.”

"I'm from Montana, but I've picked up more of a twang since I've been here." He tells you with a small grin. "Settlin' into my surroundings it seems."

“So you’re telling me I’ll be saying y’all in no time?” Small smiles are still warm ones, and you can feel your cheeks burn a little. He’s handsome no matter what, but when he smiles it’s a whole different level. “Go on. I’m sorry I interrupted.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He starts grating the cheese on top of the breath and butter mixture. “Abigail was— I knew she was mine from the playground. We were—hell we were swingin’ and I saw the scar I got from bein’ thrown from my horse and breakin’ my arm when I was nine. But Hank—” Jack shakes his head. “He always wanted what I had. Claiming that he was her soulmate. So we kept things quiet until high school.”

“I heard him claim it.” It was nothing you could have seen, obviously, but you heard every word that passed between the two men in that room. “He faked her scars, didn’t he? To try to pretend?”

“Yeah. Crazy bastard.” He growls, Hank’s confession of being behind Abigail’s death rocketing through him again. “I— we got married after high school. I was gonna run the ranch, take over for my daddy and let him enjoy his golden years. Although the man would have still poked his nose in and gotten up before the sun.” Jack chuckles. “She got pregnant right away. Everyone swearing she was expectin’ on our wedding day, but we actually waited.”

“Oh god…” You barely muffle a gasp. “You were just kids…”

“I’m not that old, sugar.” Jack huffs, turning around and placing the bread into the oven so he can work on heating up the chicken pot pie. “After - after she and the baby died, I took off. Joined the military and tried not to go back. Only went home when they buried my daddy.”

“Military?” That part surprises you a little, but the line from active service to private sector spy probably isn’t that difficult to traverse.

“Had a death wish.” He admits with a shrug. “Didn’t give a damn about anything, especially that fuckin’ valley, so it seemed like a good idea. Champ recruited me from there.”

“For what it’s worth?” You’re sitting up, hands in your lap as you play with the blanket that he spread out over you. “I’m glad that wish never came true.”

“I don’t know about that, sugar.” Jack hums, feeling guilty about all of it. “If it had, you woulda met your original soulmate and wouldn’t have been tortured at the hands of a fuckin’ psycho.”

“And who knows what that might have been like?” You’ve thought it over and thought it over so many times that you feel like you’ve tried to imagine every possibility even if that’s not possible. “Having my little tearoom has been my dream for my whole life and I know for a fact that I got it because of you. What would I have gotten in Boston? Definitely not a big enough paycheck to open my own place, that’s for sure.”

Jack wondered when you were going to bring up why you got your restaurant. “Champ is still thrilled at the idea.” He murmurs. “The word is spreading and Diana is tellin’ everyone comin’ in for tours.”

“Diana’s the one who ‘fessed up,” you admit. “We have lunch together at least twice a week…it’s kind of a ritual now.”

“You deserve it.” Jack insists, his reaction to your food hadn’t been an act. He loved everything you let him try. “Though they do try to make soulmates happy. It’s not easy bein’ with an agent.”

“I do…want to, you know.” Now that you’ve come to it – to the topic. The possibility. It makes you nervous. Something else could happen. Someone else could consider you a target. But…for Jack? You would have died zip tied to that chair for Jack. You had accepted that inevitability. “Be with you, I mean.”

Jack looks up from his task, spooning the chicken pot pies into bowls to heat up and he stares at you for a moment. “I— I want that too.” He confesses softly.

“I know it won’t be perfect.” Slipping out from under the blanket, you stand from the couch to cross the small divide, and you end up smiling at him like a dopey schoolgirl with her first crush from the other side of the kitchen counter. “But I would rather have something imperfect than have to spend another day pretending I’m not in love with you.”

“It’s another reason why I want to do therapy with you.” Jack admits, looking up and smiling at the expression on your face. “I come with a lot of baggage and I’ve hit you with a lot of it, but I don’t want you carryin’ it for me.”

“Don’t worry.” The soft look of love turns to one of teasing so easily. “I think we’ve proven that we’re a lot more likely to fight than to not speak up.”

“I’m tired of fighting.” Jack huffs, shaking his head. “And it’s not worth it when I know for a fact that I’m sunk.”

It’s like your own private miracle to hear him say it, and you inch closer at the counter while he works. “You don’t have to decide any time soon, because I feel like we should probably be slow and steady and all that…all things considered. But if you don’t want to get married again, I’ll understand completely. I’m not trying to take Abigail’s place and we don’t have to say another word about it ever again if you don’t want to. I only want to do what will make both of us happy.”

Jack turns around and shoves the first bowl into the microwave and covers it with a paper towel. “Sugar, I don’t want to count that out.” He tells you as he turns back towards you. “And I don’t think that you are tryin’ to take her place.”

“I just want you to know that I’m not gonna be sitting around here counting days for you to propose, that’s all.” Most soulmates would have been married already, at least from what you’ve seen and heard. The fact that you and Jack have known each other for months and only kissed once is extremely rare. “If we get there, we get there. And if we decide not to, that’s okay, too.”

“We’re kinda in uncharted territory here, aren’t we sugar?” He murmurs, stepping closer to you and sighing. “Second soulmates and tip-toeing around each other.”

“Seems like...” The forgotten tea kettle on the stove hisses angrily, shrieking to life with a shrill whistle that makes both of you cringe and laugh, spoiling the thick tension for now but easing some of the mood in the room.

“Why are you willin’ to forgive and forget?” Jack asks curiously, his turn to learn more about you. “You should hate me.”

“Maybe I should. I don’t know.” Since he hasn’t shooed you back to the couch, you move to pour hot water into the mug he has waiting for you - tea bag and whiskey already at the ready. “But the second you walked into the kitchen that first day Champ was pretending to interview me, you— you just took my breath away. And maybe all the bullshit would make some people pause. Maybe it should make me pause, I don’t know. But it just seems like a test to me now. That first week, getting to know you and spend time with you was everything I wanted. But the universe had to make sure I knew that things wouldn’t be easy, and maybe we’ll have plenty more bumps in the road in the years to come. But at least we know now that we can get past it, ya know?”

“I agree.” Jack murmurs, turning back to check on the garlic bread so he doesn’t burn it.

"I think we got dealt a difficult hand." You shrug, stirring your tea. "It's how we play it that counts."

“Yes it is.” He pulls the garlic bread out and right after that the microwave dings, making him hurry to put it down so he can pull out the bowl and put in the next one.

"I hated dating after I found out you're my soulmate." Studiously avoiding his eyes, you pull forks out of the drawer and plates for garlic bread out of the cupboard. The tray you keep on the counter can easily transport everything into the living room all at once. "Trying to force myself to not think about you was its own special kind of hell."

“Well, it seems like we are more alike than we thought.” Jack admits. “Because I hated you dating. Do you know how many nights I sat on my porch wishing those bastards would leave?”

It pains you to realize that you hurt him even accidentally, but you had been doing what you thought he wanted: moving on, trying to let him live his life, not force a new soulmate on him. If you had known what he was feeling, you never would have done any of it. You would have sat tight and let him work through things until he was ready to talk to you. "Never again." You can promise him that easily. "From now on the only person spending the night is you. Ya know...when we get to that point."

“You were doing what you wanted to, sugar.” Jack brings the bowl over to the countertop and searches for a knife to cut the bread. “I’d rejected you. Didn’t expect you to live like a monk. It just— I couldn’t— I hated that I wasn’t there instead of them and I hated myself for wantin’ that.”

"I was doing what I thought I was supposed to." The bread knife from your block is within arm's reach and you place it gently in front of Jack. "I'm glad to put it behind me."

“Me too.” Jack won’t tell you how many sleepless nights he had because of you, because of the entire situation. It wouldn’t be fair, but you know he wrestled with this ordeal a lot. “Thanks.”

With everything ready, Jack loads up the tray but only lets you carry your mug into the living room. You settle in again, letting the large throw blanket cover both of your laps, and eagerly reach for the garlic bread he made when he seems satisfied that you have everything you need. "Oh, holy shit." The hum turns into a throaty giggle, a pleased sound that comes with an expression so blissful that your eyes have closed on their journey to rolling back in your head. "It's so fucking good."

“I have made a lot of garlic bread in my day.” Jack chuckles, watching you enjoy yourself as you eat something he has made for a change.

“I’ll be calling you up every time I want to make Italian for dinner.” It’s a nice little thought - domestic - and you feel like you ought to be pinching yourself over this reality. One where Jack actually returns your affection.

He hums and nods. “Let me know. Like I said, I became an expert.” He takes a bite of your pot pie and moans at the flavor.

"So." His reaction makes you grin, always pleased when he likes your food. Which is every time, granted, but some things he obviously likes more than others. Your pot pie, apparently, is a big thumbs up. "Do you want to have our first real date tonight, or do you want to wait until after my family visits?"

“That is up to you.” Jack decides. “But you need to rest. You—it was a lot for you to go through. I know agents that could crack in that situation. You deserve a night off.”

"I can't decide if it will be more wildly uncomfortable for them all to be able to interrogate you about your intentions before or after the fact." Knowing that the only thing that could stop your family from being well-meaning but overbearing, you take a sip of your tea and shrug. "We can just not tell them yet. About...what we are to each other."

“You’re my soulmate.” He’s come to accept that, tired of fighting it even though there isn’t a mark on your bodies to distinguish that fact anymore. “I’m not going to hide that from your family.”

"Well, then prepare yourself for childhood stories, endless teasing, and extremely unsubtle hints about how my sister didn't fit into my mother's wedding dress so it's my moral obligation to wear and fulfill her life dream of passing it on." It warms you right from the inside to hear him actually say the words out loud, tingling through you like sparks crackling under your skin.

Jack snorts and shakes his head. “We just have the Daniels family veil.” He tells you. “It’s considered a requirement for any wedding in our family.”

"Then I hope they match." Your head shake matches his, and you both end up smiling a little more sheepishly than before. "My family is great. Don't let me give you the wrong impression or anything. They just get really excited."

It’s strange to think about weddings, but he’s not panicking, so it’s an improvement. “You can tell them whatever you want. I’m actually easy going.” He manages this lie with a straight face.

"Bullshit." You snort, reaching for your garlic bread with a smirk. "I'll tell them the truth, and you just be yourself. Your not-at-all easy going self."

“I’m complicated, but I’m also a professional spy sugar.” He reminds you with a smirk. “It’s a part of the package.”

"I don't mind that you're particular. It's a hell of a lot better than guys who have no opinion about anything and half the time you feel like you're just playing a guessing game trying to figure out if they even care about anything at all." Just being able to sit and talk is more relaxed than you've felt in weeks, even if sometimes it does make you a little jittery. It's the good kind of jittery. Excited.

“What do you want to do?” Jack asks, sitting back and watching you closely. The swelling is gone, the contusions healed, bones mended, but he can see that every time he glances back at you. Never wanting to see it again.

"When we go out?" Go out. With him. On a date. You hope you're hiding your beaming smile well enough behind your drink. "I'm the easy going one, Jack. We could go sit in the backyard and watch the stars and I'd still love it." All you need is for him to be there, but you're afraid that saying it will be too overbearing.

He huffs at you and shakes his head. “That’s not a very good date.” He grumbles at you. “Although it’s a romantic one.”

You tilt your head at him, wondering how many dozens or hundreds of dates he's been on over the years with women he never wanted to spend serious time with. How many times it might have been boring, or he might have wished he had chosen something else altogether. How many times he actually had fun and didn't want to admit it to himself. "What's something you've never done before?" You ask him, wondering if there even is such a thing.

Jack thinks about it for a moment and grins. “Never took a girl up in the Pony Express.” He answers finally. “Always wanted to.”

"You're on." You agree immediately, knowing that he loves that plane and genuinely finding yourself surprised that he's never used it to impress anyone before. That would have been a go-to move if you were him.

He raises his brow and grins at you. “Really? You want to take a ride on the Pony Express?” He asks, shuffling closer.

“Well now you’re making it sound dirty.” The grin on your face as you set down your bowl is pronounced, but you’re not going to pretend you don’t like how excited he is at the prospect. Like a kid getting to show off his favorite toy.

“I mean, it could be dirty.” He grins at you and sends you a small wink. Flirting with you has never been hard and now it seems as natural as breathing.

“And here I was thinking you would want to go slow.” It seems an almost silly thought, since you had been on the receiving end of the mild form of his flirting right when you had first known him.

There is a serious look to his eyes even though the wicked curve of his lips is there. “Sugar, we can go as slow as you want.” He promises.

“I want us to do what feels right for us.” Maybe it’s a cop out, you don’t know. But since you would have happily taken him home with you after that trip to Shootouts the very first day you met, you have an inclination that maybe ‘slow’ isn’t in the cards. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured.” That’s the key.

Jack chuckles and shakes his head. “Sugar, I would have taken you to bed the first night. Especially if I didn’t know who you were to me.” He puts his own bowl down and picks up your hand. “I just don’t wanna make you feel like I’m tryin’ to make up. I want you to feel like I’m here. In this.”

“Then let’s just see what happens naturally.” It’s good to know you’re both on the same page. To know that what you had felt right from the start was mutual and natural. “It might not be slow,” you admit sheepishly. “But it will be what’s right for us.”

“Right now, you need to eat.” Jack squeezes your hand before he lets you go. “Then I want you to take a nap. The hyperbaric chamber wasn’t sleep, it was you healing.”

“You don’t have to babysit me while I’m sleeping.” The offer is made gently, trying to be courteous and not be possessive of his time even though you want to be. “If you sat up with me while I was in that thing, then you need sleep too.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Jack insists, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stand having you out of his sight. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just stretch out on your couch and shut my eyes while you nap.” What he doesn’t say is that he will be checking on you every two minutes for his own peace of mind. The kidnapping had rattled him to the bone and it’s gonna take a while for him to settle down.

“This couch will wreak havoc on your back.” It’s stylish and attractive, and comfortable for sitting, but definitely not a good sleeping space. You found that out in your second week here. “If napping together is too forward of me to mention, you can at least use the guest room.” It doesn’t matter that you desperately want to find out what waking up with him is like. If he’s not comfortable with it, it’s a nonissue.

“No!” Jack jumps at the opportunity to curl around you and protect you while you sleep. “I—I mean, it’s okay if you want to nap together.” He tries to play it off subtly but is probably failing miserably. “I don’t…mind.”

The urge to tease him about it is so strong on the tip of your tongue, but it’s fully overruled by that blossoming, pleased feeling of warmth that unravels through all your limbs. “We’re both adults,” you reason, as though you’re not doing a happy dance and giggling on the inside. “We can survive a nap together, I’m all but certain of it.”

“We’re adults.” Jack nods, pointing at your food. “So finish your food, missy.” He teases. “This old man is tired, and you look like you need some sleep too.”

You roll your eyes at him dramatically but comply, picking up your bowl again to finish off your leftovers quickly. The warmth and calming effect of the hot toddy isn’t lost on you either, and by the time you’re done eating you’re smothering unsubtle yawns behind your hand. He doesn’t even let you load the dishwasher, shooing you upstairs to change into your pjs and get into bed. It seems like Ginger had gotten you cleaned up when they cut away your ruined clothes and got you into the scrubs, but you’ll probably shower after you wake up anyway. Just to feel clean again.

Jack takes his time, going through your home and securing it. Ridiculous, but it makes him feel better. Finally, he’s walking up the stairs, leaving his sports coat tossed over the back of a chair and hovers just outside the door. “Ready, sugar?”

“You’re not getting under these covers with your boots on,” you tell him, aiming for an amused tone and ending up grinning as you pat the empty space beside you with butterflies launching themselves around in your belly. “C’mon Jack. I don’t bite unless given permission.”

Huffing at you, Jack moves closer, toeing off his boots and placing them beside the bed before he looks at you again with his fingers on his belt buckle. “You sure? You want me to get comfortable?”

There’s a part of you that wants to tear that belt buckle open with your damn teeth, but it’s not the loudest part of your brain right now. It’s deeper than anything physical, and that’s the part that makes you hesitate. Honesty, you decide, nodding slowly. “I would feel safer.”

He’ll accept that. Slowly starting to undress as you slip under the covers and settle into your bed. He would feel more comfortable out of the tight jeans and button down, but he leaves his boxers on as he joins you. “Now we can get some sleep.”

It’s about safety, you tell yourself sternly. It doesn’t matter that he’s stripped down and your mouth is practically fucking watering. It doesn’t matter that your threadbare t-shirt and shorts are all that’s between you. It’s about safety. “Yup.” You gulp. “Sleep.”

“Do you mind if I hold you?” Jack asks as he turns towards you. You are tired but still so damn beautiful. “Maybe— I mean, you might feel safer.” He offers. “Knowing that I’m right here?” He will feel better, touching you but it’s your decision.

Mind?! You would have begged for it if necessary. But it’s also just…how you sleep if there’s someone else in the bed with you. “I would have ended up cuddling against you,” you admit, shutting off the light so he doesn’t see the embarrassment on your face. “I’m a cuddly sleeper. Sorry…I should have warned you.”

“That’s good, sugar.” Jack coos, drawing you into his arms with a happy rumble in his chest. Feeling relaxed for the first time since he discovered you were missing. You are safe, healthy (again) and in the protection of his arms. “You just curl into me and sleep as long as you like.”

******

It’s a good four or five hours that you sleep, held fast against his chest and so deeply that when you do toss or turn - the product of nightmares that you’re sure you should think about talking to that therapist about - you end up settling down with his shoulder as your pillow again before too long. The midafternoon sun is shining brightly through your windows when you start to move one last time, shifting lazily as though you’re trying to burrow even deeper into his side.

Jack actually sleeps, cradling you in his arms and feeling your gentle breathing against his hand. Reassuring him that you are safe and secure. Your warmth combines with his and creates a little cocoon under the sheets. Your leg wraps over his hip and he kisses you hair, settling back down and falling back under the sweet waves of sleep.

Even with the nightmares it might qualify as the best nap you’ve ever taken, and you try not to move too much when you finally open your eyes to the sight of Jack looking so peaceful in his sleep. Lips barely parted, skin flush with warmth, and immaculate hair mussed from the pillow, this might be your favorite sight in the whole world. The way it makes your heart swell and clench all at once is a beautiful new sensation. One you want to hang on to for as long as possible.

For his part, Jack is blessed with dreamless sleep. Or maybe it's more that his brain is still fucked up from being shot, he can't be sure but he doesn't dream about seeing you bound to a chair and head covered with a gun to your head, thankfully. He grunts, feeling a slight movement and he starts to stir before tightening his arms around you. "'s okay." He mumbles. "'m here."

“I know.” Taking a chance that the gesture won’t be too forward, you place a kiss on the back of his hand where it holds yours on his chest and revel silently in how good it feels. “Go back to sleep, Jack. Everything’s okay.”

He grunts again and hums, twitching slightly and stretching in the bed with you. "''ou awake?"

“More than you.” You laugh softly, almost more of a single breathy chuckle.

Finally managing to peel one eyeball open to tilt his head down and try to focus on you. "Makin' fun of me?" He huffs when he finally manages to clear the haze of sleep.

“Maybe a little.” The grin that splits your face is beaming, and you don’t care to hide it. “You’re cute when you’re all sleepy.”

It's natural, the way his lips pout, shooting you a narrowed eyed playful glare. "I didn't get any sleep."

“Close your eyes, then.” It’ll keep you from kissing the pout right off of his face if he does, and that might be the only thing that can stop you. “I know you stayed up to keep an eye on me. We can spend today drifting in and out of sleep.”

"Is that what you want to do?" The rasp of his voice is deep, laced with sleep and the need to clear his throat. "Or do you want to get up?"

“Nah.” Shaking your head and nuzzling closer feels like an absolute dream. “I wanna stay right here with you. We’ll order pizza for dinner and I’ll text my mom to see what time they’re flying in tomorrow, but let’s stay in bed.”

Jack grunts and rolls you over to where you are on your side, facing away from him so he can wrap his body around yours. "Then go back to sleep, sugar." He murmurs in your ear.

It’s easy to do just that, letting yourself be absorbed by the comfort and safety of Jack’s broad frame at your back and his steady breathing in your ear. There are no more nightmares, mercifully, just good dreams. Specifically dancing, hips swaying in your sleep like you’re having a premonition of some wonderful date that has yet to happen.

Jack Daniels had always had a healthy sexual appetite and since you’ve been in Kentucky - hell, since he killed your soulmate, he’s been abstaining. So it should surprise no one that he ends up hard as a Texas rock in a heat wave, pressed up against your ass like he is melted into you. Still sound asleep.

It might have been what woke you up. Or it might have been the way your dreams turned to other things with Jack - not just dancing. Either way, the evidence of what brought those thoughts on is pressed snuggly against your ass when you start to stir again hours later. You practically groan at the feeling, realizing that it’s not because he’s moving beside you but because his thick hard on is twitching eagerly against your ass. If you were any kind of decent you would ignore it. You would just take the subtle, unconscious compliment and not say a word later on. Besides, you shouldn’t even be thinking about anything sexual after what you went through over the last two days. But maybe that’s exactly why your body reacts the way it does. The need to feel alive and more like yourself overwhelming you, melding with your attraction to your soulmate and making your hot cunt flood with arousal as you studiously try not to guess how long Jack’s cock is. He’s sound asleep, you tell yourself when you shift a little and he just keeps on dozing. He’s sound asleep and he’ll never know. This is just your secret. That’s what you tell yourself when you crush your eyes shut and slip your hand into your pajama shorts to coat your fingers in slick that will make them glide over your clit so gorgeously.

Jack’s breath huffs against your neck, deep and slow as he sleeps. Groaning quietly as his arm around you tightens. Lost in the best damn sleep he’s gotten in weeks; he sighs softly as his cock throbs.

Being as careful as you can not to move his arm, the tight circles that you rub around your aching clit barely scratch the surface of the deep need that has built up so quickly. If you can manage to get yourself off without jarring him awake it will be a miracle, if he wakes up you'll have to pretend to be waking up and pray he doesn't smell your arousal in the air.

It takes another two seconds before Jack wakes up. A great thing about his training is that he doesn't change anything. His breathing stays the same and there is no movement this time. Allowing him to wake up more alert this time, listening to the sounds you are making.

It takes biting down on your lip to keep from whimpering out loud. To hold in the sighs and whining as tightly as you can. As much as instinct makes you want to drag this out and enjoy it, you have no idea how easily Jack might wake up and you do not want to have to explain that you just couldn't fucking control yourself imagining his thick cock sliding inside of you to throb and pulse in your pussy instead of against the curve of your ass.

You move subtly, softly grinding back as you work your clit. Jack's cock throbs even more and he doesn't want to interrupt you, he wants to take over. The beautiful pants that you are letting out are steadily gaining. Instead of speaking, Jack moves quickly, plunging his hand into your sleep shorts and pushing your fingers away in favor of his.

"Oh my— oh my GOD." The original exclamation of surprise is swept away by a deep moan and breathless pant, the sound finally breaking free of your lips as Jack's calloused fingers replace yours faster than you can blink. Your heart leaps into your throat but doesn't manage to stifle the gasp when he doesn't miss a beat, keeping the pace and pressure of how you touch yourself expertly.

"Imagine my surprise waking up to find you playin' your pretty pussy like it was a fiddle." He coos in your ear, wrapping your arm around your waist and pulling you back against him even more. "Apparently you're a dirty girl, sugar."

"How could I n—not?" You shudder in his arms, grinding back against his hard on shamelessly now that you have such obvious encouragement. "Waking up with you hard as fucking stone."

“’Course I was hard.” Jack rasps in your ear. “Always hard around you, sugar. You should have known that.” He knows that you didn’t know, because he’s been an ass, but with every swipe of his fingers, his cock pulses against your ass. “Drive me fucking crazy.”

"Don't know how you h-hide it," you pant heavily, moaning again when his fingers slip for just a bare second and nearly push inside you. "You wear the tiniest fucking jeans in the world."

Jack chuckles, the sounds vibrating through his chest. “Tucked under the belt, sugar.” He teases, wanting to push his fingers inside you but he doesn’t. He keeps the pressure on your clit.

"Fuck Jack." That thought is going to live rent free in your mind for an extremely long time, and you cling to his arm a little tighter with every firm rotation of his fingers. "Of course you're a fuckin' tease."

“How am I teasin’?” His tone is syrupy sweet and full of mischief, teasing. “I’m givin’ you what you want, aren’t I?” He hums, lips pressed against the shell of your ear and his thumb swooping in to press against that little button while he plunges two thick fingers into you like he had been wanting.

"Fuuuck." The gasp you let out is sharp, keening as you grind your hips down on his fingers shamelessly. Every time you rock back you end up feeling the heat of his cock against you and when you push forward his thumb is pressing against your clit with that perfect amount of extra pressure that makes you want to cry his name so loudly the neighbors will hear. "Your hands are so fucking big."

He chuckles again. “Use ‘em then, sugar.” He croons softly. “Want you to pour that sweet honey of your cunt into my hand.”

With his arm pinning your hands down there's no way you can do anything to help him except continuing to rock your hips, doing your best to ride his fingers like he so gorgeously requested while still giving him some kind of friction to enjoy for himself. What you really want is to strip away the thin fabric between you and find out exactly how thick that cock would feel inside you, but this is already crossing the line into definitely not moving slowly, so you're going to thoroughly enjoy this moment for all it's worth.

This is so wrong right now. Not because of who you are to him or anything. No, Jack’s accepted that. He accepted that the moment he knew that he was going to tear your kidnappers limb from limb for touching a hair on your head. This is because you are freshly healed. He shouldn’t take advantage of you like this when your emotional state is so off kilter. Still, he continues to grunt into your ear, pouring praises in it for you. “Good girl, sugar. I know you can do it. Ride my fingers.”

Good girl, sugar. You shudder, whimpering at how good he feels touching you and how he managed to goddamn guess at your praise kink. Or else it’s a perfect accident, making you cling to him that much tighter as you move. The coil of fire in your belly says you’re so near to your peak that you can practically taste it but the getting there is so sweet.

He can feel your body tensing, priming to explode under his hands. “Come on baby.” He urges you, letting go of your side to snake his hand under your thin shirt to squeeze your breast as he pushes his fingers deep and curls them up in a beckoning motion. Drawing you to your prize. “Cum for me.”

It feels like someone gave him a map of your pussy, letting him find all of your most sensitive points perfectly. When his fingers curl it’s like your whole body locks down. Your back arches against his chest and your cunt clenches down on his fingers, squeezing them tight as your orgasm slams into you with a strangled cry of his name dripping from your lips.

Jack loves it. Loves how you cry out his name. It's hoarse, but not because of your throat being bruised from screaming, but because you are overwhelmed. His cock pulses against your ass and he swears that he would cum if he slipped inside you right now. Instead he concentrates on your pleasure, making you ride out the sensations until you are limp against him.

"Fuck." The deep, throaty giggle that blossoms in the middle of your chest bubbles out of you as you catch your breath, and you bury your face in the pillow momentarily. "I know I was trying not to get caught but I'm really okay with you waking up."

He chuckles in your ear, squeezing your tit one more time before he reluctantly lets go and starts to unwind himself from your body. Easing his hips back so he can calm down. "Happy to help, sugar." He promises.

When he moves away you turn around, a frown painted on your otherwise relaxed face. "You don't want me to take care of you?" It's okay if he doesn't, obviously. Not pushing him into anything clearly includes not pressuring him into any kind of intimacy. But he should never doubt that you want him.

“Sugar— you’re still recovering.” He huffs towards you. “I don’t want to push that on you. I’m okay.”

"I'm okay, honey." You promise him, letting the little pet name warm through you. "When you're ready, I'm ready."

Jack knows that physically, you are probably better than you’ve ever been, but he knows what it’s like to not take a moment after a big ordeal. “Believe me, I want you sugar. That’s not the problem.”

"Then what is?" There's a box of tissues on your bedside table, and reaching for one or two to help him clean up seems kinder than sucking his fingers into your mouth like you want to. If something is bothering him then offering him the chance to open up is the best thing you can do. If he isn't ready to take it, that's up to him.

Jack wonders why you are grabbing tissues, but maybe it's because you don't like the way cum feels between your thighs. His fingers slip into his mouth and he groans at the tangy taste of your juices, imagining drinking them from the source and tasting you in his mustache. "I— I got shot about six months ago. In the head." He tells you quietly.

You barely manage to stifle a groan of your own, watching your slick disappear past his lips before you register what he's saying. "You—in the head?"

"Pointblank." Jack still doesn't remember anything beyond demanding the antidote from Eggsy and then waking up in Ginger's lab a completely different man. The man he had been after Abigail had died and he had gone through his whoring ways – ignoring the hole in his heart. "We have something called 'Alpha gel'. It's what saved my life."

"I'll be sending Ginger an incredibly large 'thank you' basket for that invention." It had seemed almost cartoonish when it was described to you during your tour of the lab after learning the truth about Statesman. "What the hell happened? Was it a mission?"

"It was." Jack sighs softly. "I – we were dealing with that Poppy Adams incident." He tells you, nodding when your eyes widen. "For obvious reasons, I held a very long, very personal grudge against drug dealers, drug users, drug pimpers, all of them." He frowns when he remembers that it hadn't been druggies. It had been Hank Rollins and his personal brand of crazy.

"I'm so sorry, honey." Whatever he's thinking, you'll let him get there in his own time. The fact that he's opening up to you is a very good thing. You just wish there was something more you could say to comfort him.

"That's not the point." Jack shakes his head and frowns more. Knowing that what he might say could possibly change your opinion of him. "After I was healed – in the hyperbaric chamber – I was different." He explains. "I would have never – ever – let my personal feelings get in the way of a mission, but I did. I wasn't thinking fully like myself." He takes a breath and meets your eyes finally. "I almost let everyone in the world who was affected die because of it."

Letting it sink in takes a moment. Working out his meaning until you shift your head on the pillow to find worry in his deep, brown eyes. "You're worried that I'm not myself?"

"You have to admit that you don't exactly know how you were affected in that chamber." Jack murmurs softly. "I wouldn't want you to wake up and realize that you wouldn't touch me. Or feel like I took advantage of you."

"Jack, I promise you didn't take advantage of me." If anything, you were the one pushing the envelope first, but you'll just leave that aside for now. "But if it will reassure you to wait a little while so you can see that I'm still the same me, then I completely respect that." Leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek, you offer him a smile and squeeze his hand for good measure. "But the least myself I've ever felt is these last two months trying to pretend that I didn't want to spend every spare minute with you. This finally feels right."

"Let an old man worry." He gets it, he really does, but he needs to be sure. The feelings that are budding in his chest aren't ones that will be pushed away easily. Losing another soulmate for real might actually kill him this time.

"Alright." You'll concede it for the sake of this brand new whatever you are-ship, but you don't make any moves to get out of bed or even out of his arms. "Let's make sure we go over it with the therapist, then?"

"As soon as we can." Jack promises, knowing that he wants nothing more than to slide into you right now and make both of you happy, but he needs to do the right thing by you, for once.

"It might be better if we distract ourselves?" You offer, knowing that the proximity of him and knowing what he can do with those overly large hands of his is going to make you focus on him alone unless you bring something else into the equation. "I can turn on the tv? Or order dinner if you're hungry? We've slept most of the day away."

"Whatever you want to do, sugar." Jack sends you a wry smile. "I can restrain myself from attacking you and making you scream my name." He teases with a small wink.

"I'm not so sure I have your restraint." A rueful shrug of your shoulders is the best you can do while you try to wipe the sheepish grin off your face, but you grab the television remote for the flat screen in your bedroom and turn on a movie channel on low for background noise.

"Are you saying you would have your wicked way with me?" Jack sounds scandalized but the grin on his face is undeniable. Mischievous and spread from ear to ear.

"Not without your eager consent." When you settle back down there's a smirk on your face that you try twisting into a dramatic frown, but it just doesn't work at all and you end up huffing a laugh. "Wanted you since the second I laid eyes on you. But I can wait."

"Believe me, sugar. I think you have more than enough proof that I want you." He glances meaningfully down between you and chuckles himself. "I just want to do right by you, for once."

"Which is why I turned on the tv." It would be completely awful of you to push, but you settle down again against his shoulder and pick up your phone from the bedside table. "And find out what time my family is getting here tomorrow. Distractions, so I don't take a peek under the blanket."

Jack snorts and shakes his head at you. "You can look all you want." It's fun to tease you, and he knows that things are going to progress faster than he would probably want, but that's okay.

"Not if you want me to keep my tongue to myself." You throw him the same kind of wink he used to aim at you when you first met and pull up the family text thread on your phone. There's been plenty of activity in these texts over the last few days but you ignore the worried and panicked messages for now. You don't have the stomach to read them right now.

"They are going to fuss over you." He reminds you. "Just like I'm fussing over you now."

"They'll see that I'm okay." There is no reason to involve your family in anything that happened in that warehouse in Brooklyn, and you're certainly not going to describe any of it to your siblings, so you'll probably keep the nightmares and any future possible PTSD bullshit under your hat as well. "I don't want them to worry about things they can't have helped or changed," you explain, when his brow furrows slightly. "I think...I might see the Statesman therapist on my own, too. For a little while at least. Just...to make sure I work through everything that happened properly. Pretending it wasn't a big deal isn't healthy."

"That's a good idea." Jack can firmly get behind it, knowing it will be good for you to talk it out with someone who had no part in what happened. You can talk to him, but he will always have a biased slant on you, so it is best you work with someone professionally.

"Turns out my soulmate has a few of those." Smiling when you put down your phone, you slip your hand into his easily.

"I'm glad you think so." Jack huffs playfully, squeezing your hand and giving you a soft smile.

"Well it was a damn good way to wake up from a nap, and you picked out the most beautiful dress I've ever worn in my life. So that's at least three excellent ideas you've had, counting therapy." Lifting his hand to your lips lets you leave a soft kiss there, and you revel in the ease of just being with him like this.

It's almost laughingly easy how this thing seems to flow between you when he's not fighting it. Making him shake his head at the irony of it all. "Sounds like I need to suggest orderin' pizza now, to make it four." He teases, remembering how you had mentioned wanting a pie later on.

You grin, letting the playful tone of his words warm you through until you giggle quietly and pick your phone back up again. "Do you have a favorite place to order from?"

"There's a secret place. Hole in the wall. It's called Tony's pizza shop. Best fuckin' New York pizza outside of the five boroughs." Jack groans. "Guy moved down from the city and I swear it's the only reason I don't have pizza flown in on the Statesman jet."

"Tony's it is." Handing your phone over so he can make the call feels as natural and low-key domestic as just lying in bed together could possibly be. "Whatever your favorite thing is from there, that's what we'll have for dinner."

"Porcini and truffle pizza coming up." Jack hums as he dials the number he knows by heart and waits for it to connect.

“Thanks for calling Tony’s.” The underwhelmed sounding teenager on the other end of the call smacks his gum into the receiver. “Pickup or delivery?”

"Delivery." Jack declares, rattling off the address of your cabin on the Statesman property and he looks over at you. "Can I get a medium porcini and truffle...and, uh, you got any special pies?" He asks, knowing that Tony was always creating something in that pizza oven of his. Feeling like you would enjoy the man, what with your own culinary creativity.

“Special of the day is the shakshuka pie with lamb sausage and a fried egg and fresh herbs on top.” The teenager reports, trying not to sound like he’s drooling over the phone. “It’s absolutely killer.”

It sounds like it would be right up your alley and Jack nods. “Lemme get one of those too.” He decides.

“Sure thing, Mr. Daniels.” It’s not like Jack isn’t a regular customer. Every employee there knows his voice after just a couple of words. “That’ll be thirty minutes. You want it on your tab?”

"Sure thing kid." Jack grins. "Tell the driver that if they get it here in twenty, it's a double tip." He promises, disconnecting the call after the boy agrees and waggles his brows at you. "Pizza'll be here in seventeen minutes."

Instead of sinking into him for a kiss like you want to – despite the fact that his fingers were inside you twenty minutes ago – you just smile and take your phone back to see if your mother has texted about their flight. “What kind of specialty did they have?” You ask, genuinely curious as to what passes for specialty or experimental flavors around here. If you were home you’d be fighting with your dad not to order clams or something equally bizarre.

“Shakshuka?” He asks, not quite sure what that means. “Lamb sausage with fried eggs and herbs?” He shrugs. “I just know if Tony sells it, it’s worth eating.”

“Ohhhhh I love shakshuka, that sounds amazing.” You’re instantly in a state of near-drooling that can normally only be achieved by sweets or a very attractive and usually naked man. “It’s basically a spicy Middle Eastern tomato sauce that sometimes has meat in it but can be a really killer vegetarian meal. You crack eggs into it and bake them like that to dip bread in.” A small, proud smile graces your lips but it’s just the warmth in your chest filling again. “If you like it, I’ll make you my version some morning for breakfast.”

“Sounds delicious.” Jack has always loved spicy meals anyway, though he might have to have an antacid now after dinner. Getting older changes things. “I think you’ll love Tony’s.”

“I hope so.” He has good taste, generally speaking, so you aren’t worried. Instead you lay back against your pillows and tap out a quick reply to your mother before putting your phone away. “My family are landing at noon tomorrow. Mom says Champ offered to send the jet for them, so they’re coming straight here. No airport trip.”

“I figured he would send the jet.” Jack hums. “Plus they have to get the Pony Express back.”

"And it looks like my brother-in-law is staying behind with the kids, so you'll be spared diaper changes while they're here." Who knows if he minds or not. If being around little kids still reminds him of his son. You wouldn't blame him if it did. "I say it like that, but I love them. My siblings are my best friends in the world."

“Why are the littles staying behind?” Jack asks, frowning slightly. “Between my cabin and yours, there should be enough room for everyone.”

"If you want to meet everybody at once, I can tell them to come." Anybody else might have considered it a blessing to be able to only meet a portion of your loud, enthusiastic family the first time, but Jack looks positively offended that they aren't all descending on Louisville en masse. "They know I only have one guest room here, so they probably figured there wasn't enough room. I don't...you don't have to give up your space to my family, Jack. I can't ask you to do that."

"I don't mind." Jack shakes his head and twists to look at you fully. "You deserve to have all of your family here. I'm sure they all want to be here." He sends you a half smile. "Family comes first, sugar. If I need to bunk somewhere else, I can - but you tell all of them to come."

"There aren't so many of them that we'd run you out of your own home." That would be unforgivable in your opinion, and you're fairly certain your grandma Jane's spirit would rise up and smack you upside the head for it, as well. "Champ's sent an email that I'm not supposed to go back to work at all this week. Only doctor's appointments and spending time with my family. So I promise I'll keep them busy. You'll only have to spend time with us when you choose to."

Jack snorts and gives you a shrug. "I can make myself scarce sugar, you don't have to make it seem like it would be a blessin'." He promises, sure that once you explain how he had treated you, he wouldn't be well liked by your family anyway.

"That's not when I meant." Embarrassment flushes hot in your cheeks and you sink under the covers. "I would love for you to spend time with us. Time to get to know my family and time that you and I can spend getting to know each other better. I'm just apparently more paranoid about you feeling forced into anything than I thought I was."

"How 'bout this?" He poses seriously, sliding down to where he was once again eye level with you. "You tell me where to be and when to be there and I'll be on time." He offers, sending you a small wink. "Plus, I have a bigger kitchen and three spare bedrooms."

"If you let me use your kitchen I might never leave." It's a joke, of course it is, but it still makes you smile and you shift forward on your pillow until you're almost nose to nose. "Thank you, Jack. You have no idea how much it means to me."

"It's not a problem, sugar." Jack loves the way you light up at the prospect of having your entire family around you and he wants to encourage it. "You can always bunk with me to make another bed available if needed." He teases, winking at you playfully.

"Sure," you huff playfully, adding a dramatic eye roll to make him laugh. "If you wanna see how really little self restraint I really have, I will absolutely share a bed with you."

Chuckling, Jack reaches out and cups your cheek. "You mean you couldn't restrain yourself with me walkin' around my room naked as a jaybird?"

"No. Absolutely not. No way in hell." The answer is immediate and sure, and you shake your head emphatically. "I can barely restrain myself now and you've already gotten me off once today."

Jack's grin blooms on his face and he leans in, raising a brow at you. "Sounds like you're needin' to get to the therapist then, sugar." He's not above a little blackmail to make sure you get the help you need to process everything. So that you don't end up as fucked up as he is.

"Ugggggh." Groaning even more dramatically this time, you practically wail in hysterics that you can barely get through without giggling at yourself. Throwing one arm over your eyes, you toss yourself onto your back and sigh as loudly as you can. "Why did I have to get the only man in the world who wants a healthy, lasting relationship and won't just tear my clothes off?"

That makes Jack stare at you for a moment, realizing what you are saying is true. Normally he would be that man, but he’s not. Just like with Abigail, he is taking it slow. He hums. “Sorry sugar, clothes ripping will happen later.”

"Just as long as it happens eventually." You tease, peeking out from behind your hand and grinning at him. "Physical strength is a turn-on and I will never deny it."

“Is it?” He contemplates that seriously and smirks. “So sweeping you off your feet literally will get me into your panties?” He asks, arching an eyebrow at you as he asks, as if there would be any answer other than ‘yes’.”

"Since you've already technically been in my panties, I don't see the harm in being honest." It's easy. So easy with him. Even as much as you've enjoyed other men's company, no one has ever made you feel quite the way that Jack does on a basic level. It's almost its own kind of therapy right here in bed. "The night we went to the bar together?" You raise an eyebrow right back at him. "I touched myself thinking about that barfight for days."

“I might have been showin’ off just a bit.” Jack admits, smirking slightly. “Believe me, I wanted to show off, fuck– I probably could have bent you over the hood of the Bronco in the parking lot, couldn’t I?”

The groan that elicits from you is pitiful, as much a whimper as anything else as you squeeze your thighs together and consider yourself lucky that he can't see you doing it. "Yeah," you admit, not even upset about it for a second. "In a heartbeat."

“Hmmm.” Jack grunts, the conversation not helping his throbbing cock, but he is learning about his soulmate. “Exhibitionist.” He intones solemnly.

"Only a couple of times." It's barely a defense, and you bite your lip for a second while you contemplate how much to tell him. "Three times grand total." He stares at you for a moment in shock before he throws his head back and laughs. A deep belly jiggling laugh that echoes through the room. "What?" Your cheeks burn all over again and his contagious laughter takes you right along with it. "I'm just being honest!"

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, not wanting you to think that he’s making fun of you. “It’s a good thing, I promise.”

"Have we got matching kinks or something?" It's one of those things that people with soulmates - like your sister - talk about all the time. That sexual compatibility is supposed to be part of the package.

“I have no problem with anywhere, anytime.” He assures you with a wink.

Saved from whatever dramatic groan your mind is about to make, your ringtone cuts through the boisterous tone of the room and you glance at the unsaved number before realizing you shouldn’t send it to voicemail. “That must be dinner. You want me to throw on my robe and go down while you answer, or the other way around?”

“I’ll go get the food.” Jack shuffles out of the bed and grabs his pants so he can slide them on and take his wallet out to pay.

Meeting him downstairs means throwing a sweatshirt over your thin t-shirt, and you're just walking down the stairs when he shuts the door with two pizza boxes in his hand. "I'll grab drinks and plates if you want to bring those into the living room."

“So you aren’t an eat in bed type of girl?” He asks, smirking slightly at the very messy look that you have going for you. It’s cute and he can imagine you cooking just like this.

"Snacks or a drink, maybe. But not so much for meals." You do crack a grin, though, reaching the floor and wiggling your toes on the cool wood floor. "And washing tomato sauce or oil out of my bedsheets doesn't sound like fun."

“No, it doesn’t.” Jack has to admit that and the special pie sounds like it could potentially be messy. He brings the pizzas into the living room and decides that the floor seems like a good spot to eat, pushing the coffee table back to make more room and layering throw pillows to cushion your backs.

A moment later, you reappear with beer bottles, plates, and napkins, and grin at the little sitting area he’s set up. “Do you want to watch a movie while we eat?” It’s the sort of low key, comfortable, domestic little thing that you honestly just love and the fact that you didn’t suggest it at all makes it even sweeter.

Jack watches as your grin gets wider and you nod. Feeling like he’s making the right choices and he frowns for just a second. “Is–” He sighs and tries again. “Would you be offended if I talked about her?” He asks quietly.

“Honey, of course not.” You drop down amongst the pillows he’s set up and reach for his hand immediately. “She’s important to you. If you ever want to talk about her or share a memory or something, then I want to hear it.” It’s such a peculiar situation and - as far as you know you’re the only two who have ever been in it. There is no blueprint for behavior here. The best you can do is go with your instincts and your instincts are always for honesty.

“I just– I don’t want to upset you if I mention something about her, or things we used to do together.” He explains. “I was going to tell you how when we were younger, these were our ‘dates’. Curled up on the floor watching movies and eatin’ junk. When I wasn’t workin’, of course.”

“I’m not going to be upset if you want to share with me.” Holding his hand in both of yours, you press a kiss to his palm, somehow still afraid that kissing his lips could lead to losing that careful thread of control. “If it gets to be too much, or overwhelming somehow, I promise I’ll tell you.”

“Please.” Jack begs softly. “I don’t–I don’t want her to be a taboo subject, but I also don’t want you to feel like I’m hanging on to a ghost.” It might be the first time he’s ever said those words out loud before and they are profound for him.

“Jack…” One of your hands leaves his to cup his cheek, finding so much sadness in his eyes when you meet them. “I think you loved her very much, and she was taken from you unfairly. You deserve to be able to remember and talk about her. Hell, I’ll probably talk about my exes sometimes and they didn’t mean anywhere near as much to me. We’re just going to have to check in with each other sometimes; that’s all. Just to make sure we’re balanced and equal and all that.”

He nods after a moment, feeling emotional and instead of pushing it down or letting it fester inside him, he faces it. “He was gonna take you too, sugar.” Jack’s face turns deadly at the thought. “I couldn’t let that happen. Not twice.”

“I didn’t think you would come.” There’s shame in it, you can admit that, and you drop your hand back into your lap as your eyes fall away from his face. “I still thought you hated me…and I didn’t know how you ever could have found me anyway…”

“Never.” Jack promises you. “I’ve never hated you and I will always come for you. No matter what.” It’s easy to promise that to you now, but he wants you to know that no matter what ever happens, he will protect you with his life.

“It’s done now.” It was literally just yesterday, but the part of you that’s trying to cope with how it made you feel is analyzing it like it was a decade ago or more. “It’s done and you’re here and that’s what matters.”

He stares at you for a moment and then snorts. “Hell, sugar. I think you’re better than some of our agents. Myself included.”

“I definitely prefer my kitchen.” His laughter is contagious, though, and you end up cracking a half-smile. “Gives me a hell of a lot of respect for what you do though. Shit.”

“Never been scared on a mission before.” Jack admits. “This time, my heart was in my throat the whole fuckin’ time.”

"We're both okay." You promise him softly. "We apparently just needed some extremely dramatic bullshit to happen for us to get our heads out of our stubborn asses and talk to each other."

“I don’t like you thinkin’ that I wouldn’t have come for you.” He murmurs, reaching out and taking your chin in his hand. “I’d die for you, sugar. I promise.”

"I know that now." Then, just a day ago, you hadn't had any reason to think that things would ever take a turn for the positive between you. "But I'm hoping we never have to put that to the test."

“Me too.” Today doesn’t need to be weighed down by the maybes or what ifs. Jack smirks and nods towards the pizzas. “You ready to have the best pie you’ve ever put in your mouth?” It’s a bold claim, but he knows this pizza backs it up.

"You talk a big game Daniels." Plates, drinks, napkins, and slices are distributed and you settle on just leaving the television on whatever channel it's on and heckling the movie that's playing if you decide you don't like it. Your first bite of the mushroom and truffle pizza is accompanied by such a groan that anybody else would have thought that Jack had his hand in your shorts again. "Holy shit you weren't kidding."

He chuckles, not even denying how sexy that noise you make is. “Told you.” He hums. “Best fuckin’ pizza. And it’s fresh, every day that man is makin’ his mozzarella. Or at least that’s what he told me.”

“I’m a convert,” you declare about four bites later when you can finally force yourself to come up for air. Everything is perfectly balanced and gorgeously fresh and if this isn’t the best pizza you’ve had in years you’ll eat your hat instead.

“Knew you would be.” Jack grins, his own slice already halfway devoured. “Tony is why I knew you would do well here. The artistic food setting is starting to grow.”

"I can't believe there's only a couple of weeks left before the restaurant opens." It feels like every possible second has been spent in that kitchen since you got here, but only in the best possible way. Sometimes it's hard to remember that you haven't actually been serving customers this whole time. But that is mostly because there is such a handful of fellow Statesman employees who have been steadily dropping by to act as your taste testers on their lunch breaks.

“Do you need anything?” Jack asks you seriously. “I know that Champ has given you carte blanche to design and set it up like you’ve wanted, but is there anything we are missing?” He’s already talked to Champ about flying your family down again for the opening. It’s only fair they witness the celebration of your achievements.

"A new line cook for the savory side." You blow out a regretful sigh. "I'll have to go back through the resumes I kept on file and bring in some more interviews, but other than that?" A slight shrug of your shoulders is one thing, but you offer Jack a small smile. "I just really want my favorite people to be there. The opening night party is all reservations and almost every seat is sold already. So...I wasn't going to ask, obviously, but...do you want to be there? I mean I want you to be, but you don't have to."

“I will be there.” Jack rolls his eyes and grins. “Of course I’m going to be there. You think I’m missing out on your cookin’?” He tuts and shakes his head in disappointment. “Besides…I’ve already got the jet reserved for your family to come in again for the openin’.”

"You do not?" The squeal that accompanies the question is shattering, and you throw your arms around his neck so carefully so the residue from pizza on your fingertips won't stain his shirt. "Honey, that's so fucking sweet of you, oh my god..." No one had come down to visit yet specifically because of the cost of airfare, because you had talked it through with your mother a month ago and decided to split the cost of the five round-trip fares plus hotel rooms that would be needed for them to come to the opening. Even with everyone doing well, the cost of existing in the world today is high. With your face buried in the crook of Jack's neck, you sniffle quietly. "You're incredible, you know that?"

Jack chuckles, basking in your adoration and kisses the side of your head. “I have a lot to make up for, sugar.” He murmurs softly. “But this was something I had done before I came to my senses. Your family should be here. It’s not every day you open your own restaurant.”

"If I do this right, this will be the last opening night of my career, and the only one I've ever been chef for." You squeeze him tightly before sitting back, knowing that your face reads nothing but awe and excitement. The opening night party is set to be an incredibly special event and you've been looking forward to it with equal parts anxiety and excitement.

“You will do amazing.” Jack promises. “We decided that we are cracking open a barrel of the whiskey to go along with it. If you want, of course.”

"It will be perfect." To a certain degree, it has to be. Your career rides on the success of The Rabbit-Hole, even if you came by it in a sort of round-about way. You have no problem acknowledging the fact that Champ wouldn't keep a failing restaurant open just to appease Jack. "We'll open a barrel as a surprise sneak peak. We're going to have both the afternoon tea menu and the full dinner menu available that night so there will be no shortage of good things to pair it with."

“It’s going to be amazing.” Jack promises you. He looks at the other flavor of pizza. “Ready to try his newest creation?”

"Absolutely." You press a kiss to his cheek before you move away again, and pick up the slice of tomatoey, spicy smelling pizza. The first bite has you moaning again, doing a happy little dance in your seat on the floor beside him. "'S so fuckin good," you mumble happily, grinning while you eat.

Jack grins, watching you eagerly as you eat. “Good to know what I can order on nights where you’re too exhausted to do anything but lay on the couch and let me take care of things.”

"That's some real domestic talk there, Jack." The grin on your face spreads, cheeks warming through, and you put down your half-eaten slice to wipe your hands. "I like it."

“What can I say?” He teases with an exaggerated drawl. “I’m just a simple, traditional man.” He sends you a small wink. “Besides, I like the way you look when you’re flustered and still looking like the cat who got the canary.”

"That's pretty much how I feel." You can admit that fairly easily, and being able to open up to him even a little is such a relief. "I guess I would technically consider myself traditional, too. At least I wanted to be. But life throws you curveballs, ya know?"

Jack nods, frowning slightly since he was the one who hurled the curveballs your way. “I can see that.” He murmurs, wondering if you regret removing your tattoos. Now there is no proof you are soulmates.

"Now, why does that upset you?" As you both sit and eat, the noise of the television fades into the background and you shift your position to face him fully. "I already said that we don't have to push any of that."

“It’s stupid.” Jack shakes his head and gives a small shrug.

"Your feelings aren't stupid." You promise him, frowning slightly yourself.

“I was just thinking about the marks you got removed.” He admits, rolling his eyes at himself. “There’s zero proof we are soulmates now. Beyond us knowing.”

"I know I should have talked to you about it." There's more than a little guilt attached to that decision, especially now that you've talked and decided to explore whatever it is that's between you. "But now you can go back to work. And isn't that a good thing?"

He can’t deny it was what he wanted, but now that he has it, he’s not happy with it. Maybe it’s because it had been meant to cut ties with him visually. He’s a selfish asshole and can confuse himself sometimes. “Yes and no.” Jack huffs, reaching for your hand and taking it. “I’m just– you loved that tattoo and I don’t want you to, hell, regret it.” He tells you. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“The situation isn’t exactly cut and dry,” you remind him. “It’s okay to feel conflicted about something complicated.” God knows you do, and you have nothing like his reasons for having such conflicting wants. “Which part upsets you more? That I gave up a piece of art that I loved, or that there’s no proof we’re soulmates anymore?”

Jack sighs, rolling his eyes at himself again. “That there’s no proof.” He admits quietly. “Everyone always wants to see proof.”

“But is there any way to have proof that’s safe?” Given what you’ve just gone through, safety is officially at the top of your list of concerns.

“Not until I come out of the field.” Jack shakes his head sadly. He looks down at his hand. “Used to have a bullseye tattoo right there.” He muses. “Hated having it removed.”

“I’m not asking you to give up your job.” Nothing could be further from your mind, especially with how much he’s been itching to get back to things and how he begged you to remove the tattoo before this. “You love your work, and the fact that I’m sitting here right now is first hand proof that you’re good at it.”

“I…could give it up.” Jack murmurs slowly. He’s made being an agent his entire life because he had nothing beyond that. It wasn’t exactly the case anymore. “I do love it, but…”

“Jack.” You shake your head fiercely, squeezing his hand in yours. “You’re miserable with nothing to do. I’ve only known you for a few months and I know that. Please don’t make any rash decisions?” The fear in your eyes is obvious, and you sigh quietly. Honesty. Honesty. “I don’t want you to give up your work so there can be proof of us and end up resenting or regretting the decision down the line.”

“How about a compromise?” He offers quietly. “The second I’m ready to come out of the field, you put that tattoo back and however many others you want?”

“We’ll talk about it again when you start to think about it.” That is an easy enough promise, and one that you can make sincerely. “You can get your bullseye back, too. But not before you’re ready.”

There’s a moment where the two of you just stare at each other, gazing into each other's eyes and seemingly coming to an agreement. Jack tilts his head once and flashes you a grin. “Yes ma’am.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101​

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman Golden Circle #soulmate au

[questionablyrhetoric]

tricks i use to not die

(will be updated from time to time)

1. walking. obviously you always get the whole “walk it’s so good for you,” but walks can often suck. if you play a high intensity sport like i do several times a week, doing intense workouts outside of that is very detrimental and you WILL burn out. walking helps burn calories, get steps in, and overall makes you feel better.

2. eat serving sizes. it’s specific, but then i know exactly what i’m eating when i’m eating it, especially when it comes to unhealthy snacks. (plus those are often very small serving sizes)

3. waiting. when i want to eat i always wait 15 minutes before, so i can really think on my decision and it’s not a spur of the moment choice.

4. this may only work for some, but tell yourself you can eat. you see a snack you can say “oh that’s perfect! i’ll eat that later.” but as time goes on you lose interest and don’t end up eating it. restrict your food, not your mind.

5. stay out of the house. currently for me it’s difficult because it’s winter in canada, and i want to stay warm, but i try to get in at least a walk a day and spend time downtown or with friends. (this works because my best friend also doesn’t eat a lot and has a gluten intolerance like me, so our outings rarely revolve around food)

6. focus on nutrients. everyone says this, but it’s true. think how what you plan to eat will do for your body, and if you want to actually gain nutrients from this.

7. get in a routine. for me i wake up at 5:00, have a shower, do a few easy workouts, do some stretches, get homework done (if needed), and then get some rest time before i start getting ready. my mornings are beneficial to me mentally for lots of reasons i won’t list, and a routine will give you something to rely on.

8. never have a “fuck it” mentality. you ate chocolate? that’s fine. enjoy it. but don’t believe your day is ruined and then binge. people slip up, they go over limits, and that’s okay. don’t make it worse.

9. find something to do. take up a new hobby, or learn a new skill, or work on a project. find something you genuinely enjoy and work on it. your mind will stay occupied.

10. if you use it, find th1n$pø that looks like you. i could never get behind the skinny asian girls who are about 5’0 and 70 lbs. for me i personally just want to look like a skeleton, so i prefer the more 🦴spo type. but if you’re going for more realistic goals, find photos that are similar to your body and build. you can’t change your skeleton. i’m sorry.

11. if you happen to be poc or have really curly hair, get it done. i spent eight hours in a hair salon getting braids. easiest fast of my life.

12. this is a habit i still struggle with, but try not to weigh/measure obsessively. if you weigh yourself multiple times a day you’ll get discouraged. i aim for about twice a week, and try and focus on subtler things (my rings being lose, my clothes looking bigger, making a new hole in my belt, etc). it keeps optimism going.

13. if you can, join a sport. i play hockey and i burn between 700-900 cals from one practice, which is only an hour. incredibly helpful and fun all at once.

14. i’m so going to hell for this, but romanticism. you think i’m enjoying this? fuck no. but by imagining the little things and romanticizing my little disorder, i’m keeping myself in a decent enough headspace to keep going. (i think i’ll make a longer post on this topic later)

15. this is incredibly difficult, but act. lie your ass off. do your homework, smile, make jokes, socialize. don’t change immediately and try and act as everything’s fine, people won’t catch on for a while if you do.

16. have a goal that is for you, but not just about looks. this is a little tricky. most often i see people either doing this for a) to look more attractive. b) so the object of their affections will reciprocate. or c) to get revenge on those who’ve body-shamed them. my current goal is to fit the part for the role i got casted in, more to embody the character. obviously i do this for looks as well, but mainly it’s so i can kinda method act. find something specific to work towards alongside your other goals.

17. water. i’m personally not one of those people who chugs litres daily, but i try to drink at least one water bottle full daily. if you find yourself hating the taste of water, get some of those 0 cal flavourers. mine’s berry pomegranate.

18. become loyal to your brands. i only eat two kinds of protein bars, only drink coke zero or diet dr. pepper. this could just be me, but experimenting doesn’t make me feel very safe. i like to know what i’m eating inside and out.

19. always, ALWAYS keep something on you. i’m not joking. if you’re going out after three days of fasting get a fucking cereal bar or something, because you can easily get faint and risk it. i’m not telling you to eat, but always keep food on you for emergency.

20. spend time alone. don’t completely isolate yourself, but be alone when you need to. it gives your mind a break from the stresses of social life and allows you to just get some good thinking in.

21. get used to small portions. if you go out for a meal, get a small salad instead of a large, small coffees, forgo snacks, stay with water instead of getting a drink. this both gives you less food and has you not spending so much money.

22. go to bed early. we all probably know by now when you don’t eat you have insomnia, so by going to bed at say nine, if you spend maybe, three hours awake, you’re still getting roughly 6-8 hours of sleep depending on when you wake up. if you had gone to bed at midnight, you’d have gotten about 3-5 hours.

23. i cannot stress this enough. IF YOU ARE DRINKING, FOLLOW THE RULES. drinking on an empty stomach is dangerous enough, remember to wait 30 minutes between drinks, drink water, never accept rides from drunk people or drive yourself, etc. we’re already risking our lives, no need to get worse.

24. take good care of myself. although i look like i’m rotting away, i’m incredibly intense when it comes to personal hygiene. it’s easier for me personally to exist when i’m clean and fresh, and spending time doing my hair or makeup helps distract me.

25. cook your own food. i understand a lot of people may not have the time or money to afford cooking for themselves, or maybe they just don’t like cooking, and that’s fine. but if you have access to a kitchen and ingredients, look up some recipes! spend time learning! it’s so much fun and gives me a way to both pass the time and know exactly what i’m putting in my food.

26. if you wish, go vegan or vegetarian. i’ve been on a strict gluten free diet for a few years now due to an intolerance (so against my will), but i’m coming up to a year being vegetarian by choice. not trying to preach this lifestyle onto you, but if you want to eat more vegetables or have an easier excuse for just getting a salad when out with friends, there you go.

27. do things you actually enjoy. i’m not going to force myself to run because i fucking hate running, but i’m perfectly comfortable going for a bike ride or long walk. i’m not one for soccer, but i’ll play hockey and ski. if you’re exercising, don’t force yourself to do something you hate. do something fun and enjoyable, and everyone’s different so don’t feel pressured to be “better.”

28. (i sound like such a consumer) go shopping. seriously. going to a mall will get you thousands of steps and thousands of dollars in debt but fuck it we ball.

29. try to be mindful. lately i’ve been getting into journalling again to try and get off screens, and also been doing puzzles to stay relaxed and focused. it’s tempting to just scroll eternally, but spending some uninterrupted time to just think and exist is quite beneficial to your mental health. and considering you’re on this side of tumblr, you need it.

30. get outside. even if not to exercise, if it’s just to sit on the curb or feed birds, get outside. it’s just so good for your mental health and seriously you’ll feel better.

this post is very long, but i still plan to update it.

#ana rexx #tw self destructive behavior #tw ana diary #ana bllog #ed not sheeren #⭐️ving #🦴spo #ana rant #ana tricks #ana trigger #ed bllog #ed tricks #ed trigger warning #ana talks #tw relaspe

[dzpenumbra]

5/27/23

I'm officially angry with my upstairs neighbors. And I honestly don't know what to do about it.

I got to sleep around 6 or 7 AM. I was woken up at fucking 9. Some kind of hammering or pounding on the wall right next to my bed, on the floor above me. It went on for like 30 minutes, at least. Long enough for me to give up on falling back asleep. Then I got sucked into an internet black hole for like 2 hours... then I went downstairs, made some cereal and ate it while watching skate videos. Then I got ready to go back to sleep, and picked out a binaural beat thing because that actually does help me fall asleep really well, especially for daytime naps, which I've always struggled with. The second I put the video on... they started pounding again. Not even exaggerating, it's fucking comical. I had to straight-up restrain myself from yelling. Really really bad fucking timing. And I could hear it plain as day with the noise cancelling and the audio in the headphones too. After a bit, they stopped long enough for me to fall asleep.

I shit you not... get ready for this... I woke up at like 3:30... on a Friday afternoon... to the sounds of them screaming while having sex. So loud that I could hear it over the noise cancelling, so loud that it fucking woke me up.

And... I'm just gonna get personal here, because... that's what journals do... I have some sexual-related traumas, and I have PTSD. And... though it's definitely not the dominant theme of my PTSD shit, it definitely sets off some really difficult shit for me. So... sex-related things can be a bit complicated for me, and waking up to that... it's really hard to put into words how unsettling that is. And, honestly... now that I'm thinking about it... I really feel for anyone who has young kids who lives in my apartment building. Like... that would be really fucked up for a young kid to hear that at 3:30 on a Friday afternoon.

And I'm once again in this position where... I'm getting thousands of reflexes pushing back against me right now. Years of training. "Do not complain. Do not be an asshole about this. Don't be that guy." Saying "something you're doing is causing severe disruption to my daily life" is me being an asshole. Saying "please don't vacuum at 4 AM the day before Easter" is me being an asshole. Saying "please let me know before you do building maintenance on an adjacent wall, especially in the AM hours" is me being an asshole. Saying "please don't hammer on the walls at 9AM on a Friday morning" is me being an asshole. Me saying "please don't blast action movies 6 feet above my bed at 10 AM when I go to bed at 5" is me being not just an asshole, but a dysfunctional member of society on a backwards life schedule. This is the narrative that has been trained into my head, and reinforced over the course of years... possibly my entire life. Likely my entire life.

I just...suck it up. And on good months, I find some way to... tap into compassion. Like my sloppy reflexive take on the Buddhist monk approach. "They have a right to their lives too." "They don't know they're upsetting me." "I can just sleep later." "I'm the one with the weird schedule that I can't fix."

I dealt with this same shit at my last house with my landlord fucking mowing my lawn outside my window, like literally a foot away from my head... twice a week... starting as soon as fucking possible. He mowed that grass so fucking much that it was all dirt in the corners around the fence from him over-mowing. And I told my landlords multiple times "I work nights, I sleep in, please mow the lawn after noon." But it was nearly always around 10 or 11, and never on predictable days... just whenever the dude felt like it. And it would take all day. And it would rile my dog up and get her barking, so I'd have to chill her out and hang out with her, on like 5 hours of sleep... and that just became my life until the snow started falling again. I even offered to mow the entire lawn for them - they were retired and lived in a building on the same property - if they gave me a little deal on my rent, and they flat-out refused to even talk about it.

I genuinely don't know what to do. I feel like sleep disturbance is probably the most significant factor in my difficulty functioning in society and my difficulty in managing my mental health. And... I'm writing this at 4:30 AM.

I don't know what to do anymore.

I love the peace of these hours so much. I love the creative flow I get at this time. Plus... I just keep gravitating back to this schedule. I can't fucking help it, it just keeps happening. And it's been happening for like... half my life. What the fuck do I do about it? Do I write an email to my building manager, ask for a meeting and just chat with her about the problems I'm having and see what she suggests? Do I try to find out what room is right above me and leave them a note saying, "Hi, I live below you, you have really loud sex and I can hear all the screams and (no offense) I really don't want to hear that. I also would really appreciate it if you could keep it down a little bit in the AM hours, because I work nights. I'm assuming you don't know how loud you are because you don't have an upstairs neighbor, it's not the end of the world, but it's fucking with my sleep a lot so... if you don't mind keeping it down a bit I'd really appreciate it." Do I go with my plan of playing recordings of babies crying through a bluetooth speaker pressed directly against their floor while they're having sex? Do I find those noise machines that make annoying sounds that only young people can hear, and play that when they're making noise in the morning until they leave? I just... I don't know what to do.

I mentioned in therapy about my brainstorming on this here a few days ago. I struggle confronting people. Because it has gone so fucking horribly, traumatically wrong for me, so often. And not by fault of my own, by the way. That's the fucked up part that I'm really starting to wake up to.

God, okay... let's go down this memory road, because it's a super important one for me to remember. I was at the retreat place... trying to get off of meds that I was stuck on for what ended up being mental health misdiagnoses... living with about 10 people in their very early 20's. We were at a workshop with the eccentric founder, who was also the head of the Psych department at a local university. She was actually pretty cool, just... pretty out of touch with people like me, struggled to relate and communicate with me. She was running a workshop she called "The Shame Game"... where we all go around the circle and write a moment when we felt most ashamed, then we share it with the group, and hear what others think of it. I think it's a genius idea, and the fact that I'm referring back to it years later is pretty clear proof that it really is helpful for the right people. But it's a big step for people who aren't really... there yet.

For me, I wrote a moment that - at the time - happened pretty recently. This is probably not going to make any sense when I tell it, but I swear it's exactly how it went down. Let me get some ice cream first, so I can get through this, this one's a bit rough for me.

Alright, so it was Summer 2019 and I was well into my return to smoking weed and reconnecting with being an artist after my breakup and first experiences with death. I had been going out to the stream on my property every day with my dog, rearranging rocks to make the stream into a sculpted Zen Garden. I saw a standing dead tree trunk out there, about 4 feet tall. I was inspired to chop it down and make a bench out of it. I had no idea how, I was just going to figure it out as I went along. I called up my mom and floated the idea, because my hatchet and axe were over in her garage - along with the majority of my possessions. See... I used to live above that garage for about... 7 years? And I was assured that it was okay for me to move in at my own pace, and having my stuff there wasn't a problem. I felt some pushback from her on the tree trunk idea, and I have no idea... why? Or... why that was really any of her business? Like... I wasn't asking her permission, I was sharing an idea hoping for something like "wow, that's a cool idea" and just like... being respectful to let her know that I was planning on coming over (I lived 5 miles away) and getting my shit from her property, so she wasn't caught off-guard. I don't remember that conversation going poorly, but in the years since, she recalled it as very clearly telling me "no". ... As though she... has a right to keep my personal possessions away from me... her (at the time) 32 year old son... because she thinks I'm having a mental breakdown or something? That was the fucking paranoid narrative going around in that house. All because I was smoking pot and grieving a lot of losses alone, and reconnecting with art and spirituality.

But I digress... I... thought we were on good terms. I remember clearly, I was wearing a bandana and sunglasses, a white wife-beater with a big rainbow peace sign from the band Parkway Drive, camo shorts, barefoot. And I had my dog with me, with her bandana on as well. I got her in the car and we went over to get either the axe that I had used to hand-chop down a tree on my parents' property years prior... or my hatchet that I had since Junior year of high school. The hatchet I took on my 3-day thru-hike with me. The hatchet that had a ton of sentimental value to me. I pull in the driveway and my dog has her head out the window, because you know... she's a dog... And my parents are on the front porch. My mom's dog comes charging across the driveway at my parked car and the dogs start barking at each other. Her dog started to jump up on my car. See, despite these two dogs being around the same age, and very similar personalities... my mom outright aggressively refused to introduce the two. Despite my poor girl not having any dog friends, and being super sweet and social. And my mom's dog was a really nice girl too, who also had no friends. But my mom was fed some weird rhetoric like 20+ years ago that female dogs will fight to the death? And you never have female dogs around each other. And... I tried to disprove this to my mom. I tried to show her examples. My girl's first best friend was a big 2 year old mutt named Luna, they were wild, they played rough, but they would like... cuddle up together. There was never aggression, they were always overjoyed to see each other.

So... I'm guessing that panic primed the interaction. My mom came racing off the porch. I had already pulled her dog away from my car and closed the window on that side. There was no issue at all with the dogs and I took care of it swiftly and without incident. My mom starts freaking out on me. She started acting like I had done something wrong. Which, I'm now realizing like 4 years later is like... blatant reflexive gaslighting. Like, obvious. She's ashamed of how her dog reacted, so she makes me the bad guy. But that shit... it escalated quickly. And it got even worse when my dad came over and backed her up. I'm standing in her driveway, barefoot, and they're just like "what do you want? why are you here?" And I keep repeating, "I'm just here for my axe and my hatchet. I told you I was coming over. Are they in the garage? Are they in the barn?" And my mom starts telling me I can't have them. I remind her that they are my property... and she is simply storing them... and she can't really like... tell me I can't have access to my own tools... She doubles down. This escalated to them threatening to call the cops on me for trespassing if I didn't leave. And I still don't even fucking know why. Like... it's got to be panic. It's still so surreal looking back and going... "yeah, that actually happened."

They freaked out and went inside. I gave up on the axe and went into the garage and looked around for my hatchet in the last spot I remember it being. I couldn't find it. In fact, the area where all the tools had been was just... gone. I went upstairs where all my shit was stored and... it was a fucking warzone. She had gotten construction done on that building while all my shit was still there. There was drywall dust and spackle and paint and shit all over my stuff. My fucking college degree was bent and covered in drywall dust. I took fucking photos, it was so appalling that I was worried I might need them for a court case or something. Half of my tattooing supplies were ruined. I told my mom I was using this opportunity (since I was there) to organize my shit and get it the hell out of there ASAP. That if she was going to try to control and regulate my access to my own fucking possessions? And after seeing how horribly my shit was treated? I was getting my shit out of there as quickly as possible. And as I sorted important stuff very quickly, still in my search for the hatchet... I found some sentimental stuff from the past. And I... like a fucking crow with an abusive owner or something... brought sentimental things over to her back door and left them outside, as an offering. A reminder of who the person she was treating like this really was. Trying to elicit any fucking conscience or soul I could, through memory, to snap her the fuck out of whatever was going on. And... that was when I had the moment that... was my shame. Yes, I actually do remember why I was telling this story! XD The Shame Game...

I had the pile of offerings by the door. And my mom came over to the glass door and yelled at me to leave. And I tried one last time to beg her to reconsider. And my dad came over and backed her up. And she threatened to call the cops on me again. And I offered to do it for her. I offered to fucking do it for her. And I pulled out my phone and had the police station number stored in my phone and scrolled the phonebook to that number and had no fucking hesitation to do it if they threatened again. And... honestly? Maybe I should've called. Maybe I should've had a witness to that shit, and they'd have to explain how they were trying to call the cops on their 30 year old hippie son for "trespassing" when trying to reclaim tools for an art project. When he's a fucking artist, with a mangled degree in art.

I just want to note, for myself... I am trembling right now. It's not me being cold, it's not me being overtired... though those are factors... it's me reliving abuse. And it sucks. It's a unique feeling. Shaky, trembly, weak, tense. Yeah. Sucks.

But we're not quite to the part I was telling this whole story for yet. So... I didn't call the cops. And... my little brother appears behind my parents. And starts screaming at me to get off their property. I can see it in my head like a fucking nightmare, so vivid. The three of them silhouetted behind the glass door, screaming at me like chimpanzees behind the glass in a zoo exhibit. Very primal. And I... I broke. And I spat on the fucking glass, left the offerings for nature to take them, got whatever I could salvage and left.

And that was my shame. That I spat on the glass. That I let all three of them break me. I had a moment of weakness, and I did something petty. Out of aggression. Out of spite. Out of retaliation. And I'm better than that. I'm fucking better than that.

Can you see how strongly I feel about this?

But the point of all this was... when I told that story to my group... not only was there not a single jaw that hadn't hit the fucking floor... but people in the group were actually a bit upset with me because... because of how tame that was. Because no one could actually see themselves reacting that tamely in that situation. Like 10 people, all from different backgrounds, some very passive personalities, some more outburst-y... all unanimous that... I really didn't need to carry that shame.

But I do. And it showed me just how fucking important perspective can be. Especially for someone who grew up in or has spent a substantial amount of time in a manipulative, controlling and/or abusive environment.

So... now that you know that story... a little taste of my upbringing... Now you know what my brain thinks it's going to get as a reaction to spitting on a window and storming off. Imagine what my brain thinks is going to happen with... direct confrontation with a stranger.

You ready for a fucked up formula? The PTSD spiral? My trauma is set off by these people fucking up my sleep. And it gets to the point of crippling my entire life if left unchecked. How do I address it? Communication, right? Which... in this case... is almost exclusively confrontation. Confronting disruptive behaviors. And my ability to confront... is affected by how severely agitated my PTSD is. So... the more I need to confront people, the more my primal threat detection systems shut me down, the more I self-sabotage and find ways to talk myself out of confrontation. To protect me from blame, to protect me from shame, to protect me from harm. Be it physical (threat to housing stability, living near a known enemy), psychological (the way I think) or spiritual (the way I feel). My survival instincts will very quickly start to paint any narrative they can to keep me from confronting others and thus putting myself in harm's way - and lucky me... I've been fed plenty of easily believable self-protective (self-blaming/self-destructive) narratives my entire life, taught to me by my gaslighting family and toxic past relationships.

<heavy sigh>

Welp... it's 5:30 now. XD

It's exhausting living like this. And, in a fucking weird way... I envy the people who live above me. How simple and carefree their life must be!

But I have to remember... as much pain as I've suffered, as much as I have never deserved any of what I've been through. I've grown so much because of it. I am so fucking strong because of it. In so many ways, I am not a victim any more. I am a survivor. And though the war may be over... for now... I still carry habits, and I need to learn how to navigate things like this. Specifically confrontation and setting boundaries. And the only way to learn is to practice.

I'm just upset that I've been begging for help with this for years... just someone to go with me and hold my hand, or proofread shit, or something. And... that person just doesn't exist. And I don't think I've ever met anyone (except maybe my little brother) who needs help with that more than me.

Alright, enough of that for now. That was very intense.

I spent a huge chunk of the evening inking the skull. It looks so fucking cool. I know I had my doubts and shit, I always do... but... this is really sick. I, with my obsession for clean forms and details, decided to start inking with a wooden skewer instead of my tiny detail paintbrush. It allowed me more precision. So I spent most of the night dipping a wooden kebab skewer into Kuro Sumi outlining ink and inking an abstract design onto a goat skull. And the ink from last night did not bleed or smudge. It dried on it really well, actually. So I went buck wild with it, and I got... probably 2/3 of the abstract design that I penciled done. The ink flows incredibly well on bone, it's hard to really explain. I'm glad I polished it first. It feels like plastic, very smooth application which lets you make really smooth lines and fill areas really quickly. But unlike plastic, it's naturally porous, so a lot of the ink actually does subtle absorb into the bone. I enjoyed the process and look forward to working on it tomorrow! I'll most likely share the final product on here.

Since it's already 5:30, let's just go whole hog tonight and do tarot too. Fuck it. It's not like I have anything to get up for tomorrow, and there's like an 80% chance I'm just going to be woken up in a few hours anyway. Same spread as always.

First Position - Past - Two of Wands (Planning, scrutiny, taking risks and moving a plan forward.  The active force needed to put a plan into motion.) Second Position - Present - Ace of Swords, inverted (Intellect, apply logic and reason, Clarity and focus of mind.) Third Position - Future - I: The Magician (Balance between conscious and subconscious, unity between spirit and matter.  Indicates a period of ability to manifest will.)

Alright. So we're starting with a period from my past... a thread that originates in my ambition, determination and planning. This led to... present situations where logic and reason are actually causing dysfunction. Or... something's out of whack with my clarity and focus? Like my plans aren't coming to fruition because of a disruption in the Ace of Swords symbol in the Present. And... if that thread continues... there will continue to be a disruption in my equilibrium as a well-balanced person. Disrupting my ability to become the ideal version of what I strive to be.

I mean... it's a pretty simple message, really, right? My planning... through the lens of skewed focus and logic... leads to me not being able to manifest great things. And that logic skew is mostly surrounding shitty experiences and false lessons taught to me. Like some of the shit I talked about tonight. And... I'm actively working on that. So, that's good!

Cool, welp, that makes sense. Alright. Off to bed for me. Wish me luck. I'm bringing the headphones upstairs with me this time. Maybe when those fuckers inevitably make noise, I can just pop the earbuds in and roll over. Fingers crossed.

But on a brighter closing note? The skull is coming along really well. I'm excited to share progress once I get to a comfortable stopping place.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

[theatrekidstatus]

Chapter 4: TW:too much rizz and s/h (fr)

Y/n pov: i wake up and I'm the first one I hide Greg and get changed into this

Not the book,candle,phone, "cute fit" "thanks" i turn around and see

"can-t sa-y th-e sa-me" god why did I try to be a smart mouth "can't say much can you" (a/n:bully rizz) "🙄" "no finger?" "🖕🏾" "nah I ment your ring finger" "smo-oth" "like your lips" "ok ca-lm do-wn" "shit my bad" "you're good" "aww there flirting" lin took a pic of us "what the fuck are you doing" "nothing" "can we get breakfast" "sure" "WAIT WHERE IS MY BONNET" jazzy yells "probably in Africa by now" nea says "for real" I add (bonnets are the real Ops)"oh there it is" "everyone get dressed we're getting food" "cool" everyone got dressed up and we went to Waffle House (a/n:shut up) Im getting waffle,bacon,grits, "y'all isn't that waiter kinda cute" jazzy ask

"ooooh jazzy's crushing" "🖕🏽" "hey that's mine thing" the waiter comes over "hello pretty ladies what might you be ordering" "can I get eggs and waffle" pippa asks "can I get bacon eggs and a waffle" nea asks "waffle,bacon,grits,please" jazzy looking at him like a dork "ma'am" "huh" "what would you like" "your number" she whispers "excuse me" "grits and bacon please" "ok "aww" "shut up" 25 minutes later "jazz call your boyfriend over" pip says "oh he's coming over" "ah shit" jazzy wipes food off her faces and puts lip stick back on "do I look ok" "👍🏾" "good" "are you pretty girls ready for the check" "yeah" "oh I think you need this" he puts the plate shit in the middle and gave jazzy a napkin we got to the car "jazzy there something right here" "wait do y'all that's why he gave me the napkin" "🤷🏽‍♀️" "ugh" she pulls it out and squeals "what happened" "he wrote his number on the napkin" "eee" we all squeal "omg he heard me" "damn" "shush y/n this a good thing jazz" nea said we make it back to the theatre "how was y'all food" Lin ask "good" "we all said "jazzy left with a new boyfriend" "I did that shit" "for real twin" "we got 5 hours till rehearsal so let's just chill - and no you can't go back to sleep" "ughhh" we said "wait I saw the cutest puppy on insta imma show y'all" "k" "cool" "sure" I get on my search thing and I see Lin posted it was me and ant "favorite couple" was the caption "🙄" I check the comments "she's so ugly" "he could do better" "ant I thought we were better than this" "she's so fugly" "man Ramos check my dm's you'll move on real quick" I throw my phone and run to the back I took my bag i was crying so hard "I check my bag I found my old blade I was gonna throw it away but it looked REAL helpful right about now I held it to my wrist I hear  long repetitive loud knocks" "y/n please you've been clean for so long please please please the comments aren't true your beautiful and I love you I'll delete the post and all the comments please" Lin cried through the door while trying to break the door "y/n please I love you" I hear it was ... ant he loves me I stand up and open the door Lin ran and hugged me "I love you don't ever scare me like that" I just start crying "let it out sh sh sh let it out come on" he picks me up "y/n are you ok" the girls ask "mhm" I Mutter "today has been a stressful day so everyone can leave and head to my apartment to check on y/n" at the apartment "wait did you want people over DONT LIE" "yeah I love them" "ok..." "I hear a knock at the door" "you're the only without a car yet you're here first and you brought gifts" "can I see her" "sure" "I look up it's ant" "hi do you want some chocolate?" "Hell yeah" he snickers "so you... love me" he looks down "I think so" "I think I LIKE you " "really" "yeah" "do we date now?" "Can we" "sure" he had a little smile "you smile is so cute" "thank you" "look how the table have turned I use to be the nervous one" "I'm not nervous" "what happened to the boy whit w rizz and confidence" he's right here" "wha-" im cut of by his lips on mine I just look at him "im sorry" and ran away Lin came in and I told him everything "I'll call him" "no lin please" "ok" everyone came over and I  said everything from the comments to ant "yn/n I'm sorry"  "it's ok it's been a hard day I kinda wanna eat and sleep" "oh of course" "I'm sorry" "DONT say sorry it's just boundaries" "let's go ya'll" "k" they all left "I made your favorite" "thank you chef Lin" I eat it and the food was really good I hop in bed and sleep my ass off.

Anthony Ramos pov: I wake up i notice y/n is up she's not at my side I go to the bathroom and get ready I see y/n I saw "cute fit" "thanks" "can-t sa-y th-e sa-me"  "can't say much can you" "🙄" "no finger?" "🖕🏾" "nah I ment your ring finger" "smo-oth" "like your lips" "ok ca-lm do-wn" "shit my bad" "you're good" "aww there flirting" lin took a pic of us "what the fuck are you doing" "nothing" "can we get breakfast" "sure" "WAIT WHERE IS MY BONNET" jazzy yells "probably in Africa by now" nea says "for real" y/n added "oh there it is" "everyone get dressed we're getting food" "cool" everyone got dressed up and we went to Waffle House oak was talking bout his plan too ask pippa same with davved and nea "Ramos when are you gonna ask out middle" "WHO?" "y/n" he whispered "ohhh idk why'd you say middle" he just 🖕🏿 me "ohh" "yeah" "y'all are grown men and can't talk to your crush" Chris chimed in "I can't imagine not dating your crush" groff says as he touches Lins hand "yeah baby" "get a booth"

A little later

"how was y'all food" Lin ask "good" "we all said "jazzy left with a new boyfriend" "I did that shit" "for real twin" "we got 5 hours till rehearsal so let's just chill - and no you can't go back to sleep" "ughhh" we said "im so tired I tell the guys" "same" "for real" "yeah" I see y/n running away crying "what happened we ask the girls" "we don't know" i pick up her phone and read some strange comments i was nauseous i show them and Lin said "on no" we run after Lin he dose long repetitive loud knocks" "y/n please you've been clean for so long please please please the comments aren't true your beautiful and I love you I'll delete the post and all the comments please" Lin cried through the door while trying to break the door I was so upset I just yell "y/n please I love you" everyone looked at me and tears down my face as i didn't hear anything from her she and opened the door Lin ran and hugged her "I love you don't ever scare me like that" she just started crying "let it out sh sh sh let it out come on" he picked her up "y/n are you ok" the girls ask "mhm" she muttered Mutter "today has been a stressful day so everyone can leave and head to my apartment to check on y/n at the apartment" "you're the only without a car yet you're here first and you brought gifts" "can I see her" "sure"  "hi do you want some chocolate?" "Hell yeah" he snickers "so you... love me" i look down "I think so" "I think I LIKE you " "really" "yeah" "do we date now?" "Can we" "sure" he had a little smile "you smile is so cute" "thank you" "look how the table have turned I use to be the nervous one" "I'm not nervous" "what happened to the boy whit w rizz and confidence" he's right here" "wha-" im cut of by his lips on mine I just look at her "im sorry" and ran away

#musical theater #musical theatre #theatre #broadway #tumblr milestone #shakespeare #theater #hamilton musical #anthony ramos #lin manuel miranda #phillipa soo #daveed diggs #chris jackson #y/n #x y/n #jazz #jazzy #jasmine cephas jones #renèe Elise goldsberry #lin manuel appreciation post #in the heights #21 chump street #anthonyramosxreadertheatrekidstatus

[venus-dawnstar]

I have a love/hate relationship with my autism...

Autism is interesting. At least, I find my autism entertaining. To set an example of what I mean, here's a list:

Pros:

-Fuck, music is so cool. I love it and I can feel it moving in my brain.

-I can tell if something is different or off really easily.

-Want me to explain your emotions to you bc even you don't understand them? Oh, don't worry, I don't know how I'm feeling either. No judgment. Anyway, time to examine your body language and tell you what every thought you're having rn is.

-You don't know where to eat? I have a maximum of 5 foods I can keep in my system at every waking moment, ask which one I want. (More ARFID than autism, but still.)

-Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm good texture, much comfort.

-You talk to me for 2 minutes every day? You say hi to me every morning? Good, you're now part of my routine. You may become the highlight of my day with just a small gesture.

-Yooo this painting has 5 people hidden inside. Also, I think this artist has a flaw in this section but succeeds really well in this section and-

-You want something to talk about? I HAVE SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT! MEMEME I DO! ASK ME ABOUT [hyperfixation] P L E A S E !

-.O. You got me a gift! You shouldn't have. What is it? [Literally anything that isn't one of the 10 things I dislike] Omg I love it! Thank you so much! *Keeps it for the rest of my life*

-You know when I trust you. You'll notice. Don't worry about how or when. You'll just know.

-"Words, words, words, words-" "How tf are you on chapter 15 I left for 8 minutes-" "Shhhhhhhhhhhh. I'm at a really important part. Words, words, words, words."

-Want to know when I'm too tired? I stop walking on my tippytoes. That's when.

Cons:

-FUCK EVERYTHING IS TOO LOUD TOO LOUD SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

-Ow why is everything so bright that hurts

-Mmmmmmmmmmmm everything hurts. How do bones hurt? Mmmmmmmmmmmm tension headaches.

-EW NONO TEXTURE GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF I WANT TO PEEL THE SKIN THAT TOUCHED IT OFF OW WHY IS IT PAINFUL

-I can't sleep. My brain doesn't want to. Yeah, I know it's 6 AM.

-What? Huh? Da fuq? Uhhhhhhh.. OH OH OH yeah yeah yeah. Why did that take so long to process?

-WHY IS THERE A BREAK IN THE ROUTINE I HATE IT WHEN A PATTERN STOPS. BAD BAD YUCKY BAD. WHY? PANIC.

-*Static* "Hey. did you hear what I said?" "Oh sorry I zoned out. What?"

-Why am I irritated by this? It's not a big deal. Why am I crying, literally all that happened was [thing most people would call insignificant that I find really important]."

-A thing got denied, guess that's a permanent no. Time to lose all hope in it.

-Everything is awesome and I love life and I'm so happy and- *break in routine, bad texture, sensory issue, bad item, something gets slightly off* GODAMNIT

The main inspiration for this list was from this afternoon. My partner and I were about to go walk the dog and pick up food along the way. But what happened? My shoes were missing. They weren't in the place, let alone the room I always put them in and have for the past months. A break happened in the routine and I panicked so badly that my partner had to pull me into a hug and tell me it was okay. I almost started crying bc my shoes were in the wrong place and I didn't know where they were at first. I was excited, practically jumping for joy because I was about to pay for and have a date with my partner. Then, a pattern broke and I almost had a panic attack. I found my shoes, put them on, and boom. I was happy again. Of course, it took me a while to get past the initial shock from it. But afterwards, I was giddy as a kid on Christmas.

TLDR; Autism has its ups and downs, some of mine are listed above. Also, I lost my shoes and it almost sent me into a panic attack. So that was interesting.

#Not everyone with autism is the same #if you don't relate to this it doesn't mean you don't have autism #actually autistic #music #sensory #is it a blessing? #is it a curse? #or is it just a part of me? #pretty much a vent post #My brain said I'm not allowed to talk about the shoe thing without a prompt or someone asking if anything interesting happened today #So I made the list to make myself feel like I'm not just venting about my bad moment today to literal air cause no one is gonna see this #sorry for the rant

[elsecrytt]

HC: Waking Up With The Boys

Crossposted on Ao3 - just some headcanons about. Mornings with the Obey Me! Crew. Originally Barbatos wasn’t included, so, bonus for tumblr friends? Do I have tumblr friends? Hope I make some lol please enjoy!!! I gotta do something on this blog lol

Lucifer

-           Poor man probably wakes up at like 5:30AM sharp every day, starts a very specific morning routine for Maximum Productivity. He probably does work even in the morning before leaving for class, actually.

-           Considerate enough to let you sleep in, but he’ll wake you up maybe a half hour before you need to leave. Probably in a flirty way because once his routine is done, he is ready to go as the Lucifer we all know and love.

-           If you are enough of a morning person to catch him sleeping, you refuse to take a picture. God’s most beautiful creation sleeping peacefully beside you and you’re gonna share this vision with the world? Please. They can seduce the Avatar of Pride themselves if they want it so bad. Soft sleepy morning Lucifer is all yours.

-          Soft sleepy morning Lucifer dear god in heaven why did you make him like this how does he look this good at five in the fucking morning

-           A morning person? No, a Morning Star.

-          He’s absolutely gorgeous and very soff for you when he first wakes up. You can’t decide if you love his sleeping face or the drowsy smile he makes, lashes half-lowered at you, when he wakes up and sees you beside him. Black-red eyes, normally so sharp and piercing, linger on you with warmth and blatant affection.

-          Lucifer almost never makes himself vulnerable but when he sees you sleeping as he wakes up? He’s struck with a sudden understanding of what people mean when they say they just can’t get out of bed in the morning. Even he doesn’t realize the face he makes, how he stares down at you like it’s his own hands he’s leaving in his bed instead of his lover.

-          There is a pride in being trusted, in how you let yourself be defenseless before him, how you feel secure enough to cling to him despite the threats he’d issued to you in the past. How you shiver for lack of his company. It swells inside him like a weight, the intoxicating and heavy feeling of being needed, wanted, of being valuable beyond measure to his mate.

-           The weight of this pride is comfortable, reassuring, like the feeling of your arm around his waist as he lays beside you

-          On the rare instance he gets to sleep in, he’s likely to hold you until you struggle out.

-           If you really want to leave, he’ll let you, but like… why? You’d have a hard time leaving the bed at least, even if you just wanna sit up and do something on your phone while he rests his head on your thigh.

-          He probably likes to pet your hair before he leaves the bed. You get dressed yourself but he will absolutely look over your ensemble, straighten any stray locks, tug your uniform into place here or there. Your reward is the winning smile he makes when he decides you look just perfect

  Mammon

-          C u d d l e

-          He may be your first man but in the morning he is a distinctly Last Minute Man. Unless you’re also the type to spend only 5 minutes getting ready, you’ll be waking up before him, extracting yourself from octo-Mammon’s grasping limbs.

-          Probably whines about it too, the big baby. But you wouldn’t be with him if you didn’t find that absolutely heart-wrenchingly endearing, and god, when he gives you that bleary, misty-eyed desperate look, croaking out for you to come back, just a few more minutes babe…

-          He is a graspy needy greedy boy but he doesn’t actually fight you and lets you disentangle yourself freely, grumbling and whining about it all the while. You can even feel his hands running towards whatever bits of your skin are uncovered, just to get that last touch and feel of you before you go.

-          Mammon never holds you too tight or keeps you from getting up when you try. He only ever asks you to stay.

-          Unfortunately you are in love with Mammon so It’s Super Effective!

-           Levi actually said that once waiting for you two to get up. Bastard.

-          Weak!!! You are weak!! Lucifer blames you at this point because you were supposed to have the brain cells in this relationship! Instead you are putty! Play-doh!! A Mammoron!! You are never going to get any breakfast from Beel at this point! F O O L

-          It’s okay your First Man Demon has a nice little café you can both run through on your way to RAD for a little breakfast bite. Eventually Satan or Belphie will start hiding away a plate for you, too. Not Mammon, though. He starves like a dog, and begs food off you like one, too, much to the entertainment of his brothers (your plate has an extra large serving just for that).

-          If you don’t need to get up early then it’s just a matter of whenever one of you really really needs to pee. Or gets super hungry. And even then, you’d better stay out so he slinks out of bed, and scrambles down the stairs or through the hall to wherever you are as soon as he gets dressed, just a little but more rushed than usual. If you come back to bed too soon he’ll just give you the old puppy dog eyes, sad and scared, like he must have disappointed you, like the Great Mammon isn’t enough… won’t you please stay with him…

-           Oh yeah sure he’s your clingy little bitch who’d do anything for you but ultimately you are completely whipped for your clingy little bitch so you’re going to get your ass back in bed with him and you know it. So stay up and about and your good boy will come to you.

-          It’s emotionally damaging how he looks so good in the morning when he straight up doesn’t even try. Mammon doesn’t even shower in the morning, only at night before bed, to maximize the time he can spend being asleep in your arms, or with you in his.

-          How does his hair look this good when he only barely combs it? You ruffle it on the regular, it feels like you’re sinking your fingers into clouds, the softest white down imaginable, while he hums and blushes and beams and makes the most pathetic excuses you’ve ever heard about how lucky you are to get to pet him. Boy is literally purring in your lap while he proclaims he doesn’t like this kind of thing or anything, but he’ll let you do it.

-           He’s right tho. He’s so right. You’d kill for this. But only good boys who admit their feelings get to hear that kind of talk and Mammon usually takes the kind of coaxing better done at night than at morning.

-           You would also kill to have hair like this though because what the fuck Mammon he’s literally a model, he doesn’t need to practice any hair care or skin care beyond the barest of essentials, you can muss his hair however you like in the morning and he still comes out looking gorgeous just how the hell is this fair!!! How!!!

-           And he’s dating you! This hot mess of a man demon!!! All yours!!! How!!

  Leviathan

-          This man doesn’t even attend class most of the time lmao what did you think you were getting into when you got into that tub with him, hm?

-          Octo-mammon ain’t got nothing on our tail boy. You’re wrapped up beside him in a tub, curled into one another, limbs fitting together in whatever way felt comfortable at the time. The slightest move messes with the jenga (you know that tail is gonna squeeze you a little out of reflex) and you won’t be able to leave without waking him up.

-          Why are you leaving? Why are you abandoning him? What did he do wrong – no, of course you’d ditch him at the first chance, he’s just this loser otaku, ugh, who wouldn’t –

-          It’s grating to deal with for sure but Levi’s hangups are a part and parcel of who he is. Reassure and comfort in the way that works best between you; after a while, he’ll probably get the gist of it.

-          Very awkward stumbling out of the tub and extracting yourselves from the mess of limbs. When he just lifts you up with his tail you nearly have a heart attack okay that was fucking hot do it again Levi

-          No morning routine here, just blushing, turning around for you to get changed, telling you – “No! No, you don’t have to leave, just – just look at the wall! Look at Henry 2.0!”

-          You might be able to catch him in a mood every now and then, though. Half asleep, half awake, not quite 100% aware of everything going on around him. Only barely avoids stumbling into things. He’s so cute you could die.

-           Days like these, Levi will hold your hand absentmindedly, help you into your RAD jacket, or let you help him into his, not really thinking about what’s happening, just unconsciously accepting your help and your presence.

-           It gets as far as you pulling him down the stairs by his arm; he follows obediently until the dining hall’s lights get in his eyes, his brothers are there and he’s holding hands with you AHHHHHHHH

-          Be prepared to be woken up at strange times though, when there’s some event going on or some other, anything that he has to wake up early for, he totally will, and the jenga of inextricable intimacy goes both ways.

-           It’s cute tho cause if you do your best to pretend to still be asleep you get to catch how he quietly panics to himself about maybe waking you up, and then gently sets you back down, carefully attempting to settle you into a comfortable position without him.

-           And then the thought of you being comfortable without him gets to him, and he kisses you goodnight, runs his fingers through your hair… and maybe the tail comes out, just long enough to reach back into the tub where it dips in to graze your fingertips. Since you’re not actually asleep, you grasp at them, making him freeze and shiver before he continues on.

-           (When Levi doesn’t actually wake you up, and you stay asleep, you act just the same, which is why he doesn’t realize it when you're only pretending to be asleep)

  Satan

-          Not a morning person but also not too grouchy, he’s not the type to make much of a fuss. Surprise surprise, he’s a lot like Lucifer here; gets up, gets himself ready, commits the appropriate crimes against fashion, heads downstairs for breakfast.

-          He’s a bit of a tease so he’d totally leave you in bed if you’re the type to sleep in and you don’t wake up to one or two casual pokes. Waking you up 10 minutes before you have to leave and holding out your jacket to put on you himself when you get dressed like the wicked demon he is.

-           dw he’s got a snack for you saved from breakfast in this case. He’s not a monster, you know. He wouldn’t do it multiple days in a row, either. He’s read about the importance of breakfast in a human’s daily routine.

-           Are you gonna like Satan when he decides you absolutely will wake up right now no five more minutes? Is he gonna care? No and no, unfortunately this SOB is well aware that you love him and he can do no wrong even when he bullies you.

-           But YEAH the little shit is always sneaking soft glances at you. If you’re the type to sleep in really late he’s likely to just snag something (or a couple somethings) from the breakfast table to watch you sleep in his room. He finds it charming – calming, even.

-          If you wake up on time, he’ll get ready with you. 0 shame about undressing or dressing himself in front of you, but if you have any, he’s gonna laugh and tease you.

-           If you wake up before him, you might have a shot at sneaking looks at his cute sleeping face… Lucifer was right he’s so deceptively sweet and smiling and then those electric green eyes pop open and he’s blushing and smirking at you both at once.

-           Killer demon instincts, lovestruck bookworm boyfriend.

-          Extremely difficult to bully back because of killer demon instincts. If you wake up earlier than him, you’re likely to wake him up, too, as you walk around. He’s a pretty early riser but you’ll get some grumpy looks if you’re an even earlier one, and he might give you trouble leaving the bed if you’re always leaving so early.

-          On free days he will happily hold you securely against him and completely ignore any attempts at escape. He’s reasonable, though, if you promise him you’re just headed to the bathroom, but he won’t take that excuse a second time if you try to make an unsanctioned escape. You’ll have to make up for his loss somehow…

-          Probably the best out of all of them at keeping you in the bed tbh. Satan has no problems offering you incentives to stay in his arms; cuddling, sexy times, or even the legendary power move… he pulls out a book, settles you sitting back against his chest, rests his chin on top of your head, and starts reading to you. What are you gonnna do about it? Leave?

o   This will go on for hours, or the whole day, as time permits. Sometimes even if it doesn’t, particularly if that means problems for Lucifer… or if he just needs some time to recharge with his favorite person.

 Asmodeus

-          Another morning routine man, this time for skincare and beauty purposes. You think his face is naturally this clear? Nah, he works for this, babe, and he’ll work for yours too if you let him.

-          Probably thinks it’s cute if you wanna sleep in tho. If you wanna be zombie and let him wash your face and brush/style your hair while you’re half asleep he’s gonna be all over that, thinks it’s the most adorable thing in the world.

-           Most mornings there might not be time, though, if you desperately want to sleep in then he’ll let you, although it would be very cute if you were a heavy enough sleeper for him to dress you while you were asleep~

-          TOP TIER CUDDLING RIGHT HERE. When the time permits. Probably better at it than Belphegor tbh. He knows your sleeping position(s) very well and what places you feel comfortable having pressure put on, can read your body language like a book, and has loads of experience in bed – what, you didn’t think he only meant that, did you? So naughty, darling~

-          He is a slut. A snuggle slut. Little cuddle whore. Absolute bitch for a good spooning. Yeah, you like that Asmo? Like that leg over your thigh? The arm around your waist pulling you close? Filthy needy cuddly boy. It’s disgusting. You’re so fucking into it.

-           The only consolation is that he’s actually pretty floored by this sort of talk. Asmo pulls out his usual “Awww, you’re so cute!” and “My heart is racing!” quickly enough but it’s pretty obvious you’ve got one over him. He buries his face in your shoulder and wails that he likes you too much and fuck you’ve never seen him this adorable before

-           It doesn’t last long though because he turns it right back around. Asmo platonically calling you a his cute little snuggle slut is unlocking in you a level of horny you weren’t aware even existed

-          Will his cute little cuddle babe give him your hand so he can do your nails this early in the morning?

-           Of course you will, you are wildly infatuated with him and being doted on this early in the morning raises your heart rate enough to actually wake you up. Even if you do feel completely comfortable with him, it’s not like you can fall back asleep while he’s awake and giving you all this attention

-          He’ll pick out your outfit for the day, every day if you let him, and even help you into it.

-           Asmo makes an adjustment here or there to your RAD uniform – maybe he ties a certain knot into your tie, rolls up your sleeves or leaves your buttons undone a certain way, just a special, stylish touch depending on what he thinks suits you. It is stylish and when you don’t have him to put it on you’re a little at a loss.

-          Gives you a kiss before he gets out of his bed for his morning routine, probably plays with your hair. Just one more kiss before he’s off to wash his face – two, three – a peppering of showered kisses. He’s so excited to be able to kiss you good morning, too, it’s energizing for you as well.

  Beelzebub

-          Resident soff boy. Always awake in time for breakfast, and he’ll wake you up for it. If you sleep in, he will save you a plate – aren’t you lucky~

-           Even if you are a heavy sleeper he is more than capable of lifting you up out of the bed, sitting you down, tugging you out of your nightclothes and into your RAD uniform. Beel knows all the nice, gentle ways of waking up and taking care of a sleepy person, and several less than nice ways if you can bring yourself to fight the demon incarnation of a big, fluffy Saint Bernard

-          Probably showers in the morning as well as later on in the day, being an athlete. Will be totally comfortable showering with you if you are so inclined.

-           This is the method by which you, if you are particular about these sorts of things, are able to select his body wash and shampoo/conditioner. Beel will absolutely lean down or even kneel before you if it means you’ll touch his hair all nice-like.

-           The absolute balls on this man, telling Mammon he had a ‘lame, goofy smile’ with the way he beams at you like a puppy getting petted while you scrub his hair. What a goddamn hypocrite. And who says there’s anything wrong with a big goofy grin? You’d kill or die for Beel’s dopey, beaming face, thanks.

-          Dries your hair very nicely with big, warm hands. He loves running his fingers through it; long or short, just the brush of your hairs against his fingertips as he works the heat from your scalp to dampen the wet away. Will happily use a hair dryer if your hair is long or you’re more style-conscious/pressed for time

-          Wakes up at a pretty normal time but if you get up early, he’ll just get up and start getting ready alongside you without complaint. Beel being earlier to breakfast has certain… effects on the household but that’s Lucifer’s problem, not yours.

-          Probably the least cuddly out of all of them in the mornings; he’s great for snuggles when he’s got a snack or he’s tired from a big workout and an even bigger meal, but other than that, he’s a pretty active person. Even when you can sleep in he’s likely to wake up, gently extracting himself from however you are entangled and getting himself ready before he comes back to you

-           Will probably bring back food for you and feed you breakfast in bed. It’s not like there’ll be leftovers, anyways. He’s a gentle, chill giant, but also he’d be completely unabashed at the prospect of licking food off your fingertips or vice versa.

-           He works out; he’s not one to lay in bed all day. Past any breakfast in bed he’ll be tugging you out of the blankets, lifting you up, trying to get you to be active and start your day. He knows that sleeping too much is no good, after all.

  Belphegor

-          “morning”? sounds fake

-          You probably have to drag him out of bed a lot of the time. Sure he could manage on his own but with you in bed with him Belphie just does not see the point bro. Just stay in there with him. Take another nap. Cuddle a bit. C’mon…

-           Sure Beel will help you tug him off the mattress but that’ll require you to get up and off the mattress, first.

-           Beel might normally help him get dressed, but that’s your job now that you’re responsible for getting him into something resembling wakefulness. If he sleeps so much, he should be able to wake up on time! Sloth is no joke.

-           But he’s so fucking adorable when he’s sleepy and you’ve coaxed and cooed him into being unresisting as you dress him up. And yeah, maybe the careful way you undress and dress him is a part of why he lazes around, sitting up, standing, and helping you where absolutely necessary… he does love having you do the work for him.

-          W A R M

-          He’s like an actual demon on your shoulder, except giant-sized and cute, constantly tempting you with his big, soft pillow, and his silky hair, and his calm, easygoing demeanor. Sloth demon says it’s nap time all day every day.

-          Most likely to try and convince you to come back to bed even after you’re dressed and dragging him down the stairs. His success rate is not 0%

o   Levi’s commentary to this effect is summarily rejected, but of course Belphie thinks it’s funny.

-          It’s a good thing he’s so close with Beel because otherwise you’d never get anything. But the big brother of the pair keeps you fed, despite his own misgivings.

-          Clingy clingy sleepy boy. If he were to drift back into consciousness while you were asleep, he’d have absolutely no plans of waking you up, at all, ever, and would probably go back to sleep quickly, himself. But…

-           Always happy to adjust his position, your position, for maximum comfort. He is a comfy cuddler who likes to rest part of himself on you, or part of you on him, or any manner of arrangements between the both of you and the pillow.

-           Looking at your cute sleeping face sure does things to him. You’re so peaceful and vulnerable and close, right next to him, sharing your warmth with him. It’s been a long, long time, since he’s really had anyone but Beel, who’s much bigger than him, and all hard muscle and demonic strength, for all his gentleness. You’re soft and fragile and human, and feel so so good to rest against.

-          He always wakes up surprisingly quickly after you do – it’s just the getting him up that’s difficult. And with him, it’s always the same refrain – five more minutes, ten more minutes, another hour, come on, whatever you had to do today wasn’t that important, really…

-           Good luck removing him from the bed when he doesn’t have any RAD. If it makes you feel any better, you can probably sit up in bed and let him lie against you while you do whatever. He’d prefer you resting against him but he’s happy to accept just your warmth at his side. He always wins, anyways; everyone has to sleep eventually.

 Diavolo

-          We all know Barbatos wakes him up. With his energy levels and massive enthusiasm for basically everything, he is probably morning person. Likely sleeps at the same time every night after years and years of routine. He’ll drag you into it if you’re sharing a bed with him, give or take half an hour.

-          You actually feel like you’re sleeping with a several-thousand-year-old man because as a morning person, he’ll go to sleep early and wake up early. 11pm no longer exists.

-           He does go to parties every so often but now you know more about how he never seemed to be around at the end, or walked you home or whatever – you’d assumed he left early like a true celebrity, but no, he’s like? Straight up headed to bed like the old man he technically actually is.

-          It’s a good thing he wakes up early, too, because he’s a heavy sleeper and a pretty large guy. Diavolo isn’t necessarily clingy like some of the others, but he doesn’t need to be; he can peacefully fall asleep with you in his arms precisely because there’s absolutely no escaping him until he wakes up.

-           Of all the demons on this list, except perhaps for Mammon, his control is the most impeccable. Even in his sleep he would never squeeze you too tightly or crush you too hard against him. But he will adjust and re-adjust, ever aware of your weight in his arms, tug, and pull you close, stopping just short of the threshold of your discomfort, and no amount of resistance will so much as stir him unless you’re straight up willing to bite.

-           Unlike Mammon, though, Diavolo was never an angel. He was born a demon, through and through, and his unconscious desire will keep you by his side, against him, where you’re safest, where you’re his, where he can keep you happy and keep you with him

-           It’s okay, Barbatos will set you up with an alarm or a taser under your pillow or something. dw about Diavolo, he’s a powerful demon, he can take it like a champ. He’s got the good graces to be ashamed about it when he wakes up, but what can ya do when you’re a future demon king and you’ve always been given everything you wanted, all the time, and the human you want most in the world is in your arms right here and now? Not hold them?

-          Most of the time he’ll wake up before you, though. Diavolo sees your cute sleeping human self and He Literally Can’t. He Cannot Even. You are. Too cute. Too precious. Congratulations, you can make a (future) Demon King squee in your sleep.

-           He just barely manages to stop his unbelievably loud laugh while he watches you sleep because he is a Good Boy

-           The type to get up, get dressed (Barbatos might actually help him with that in the morning lmao), and then just watch you while you’re sleeping. Listen, you knew he was a demon already, you signed up for this. He can’t get enough of your sleeping face, your docile form that he can arrange on the bed however he wants. Maybe he sits up against you in bed, rest your sleeping head in his lap, against his chest, in his side, relishing in the comfort of your presence.

-          A good match for a grumpy morning person because this bastard radiates Morning Demon Energy. He is awake and he is happy about it and if you aren’t happy about it he’s going to be aggressively happy in your direction until you are.

-           He may or may not be able to help you get dressed or do any morning routing stuff but he definitely likes to fiddle with the collar/tie of your uniform or put on your jacket. It’s a new sort of experience for him, doing that for someone else, and he will jump on any opportunity to engage with you and feel helpful

-           Ugh, morning people, right? God he’s just so stupid and tall and handsome and his smile is so bright and dumb and friendly and he’s always so cheerfully oblivious to other people’s feelings, yet heartfelt sometimes.

-           and he makes a really really good big spoon

-           and cuddles super well and can pick you up and hold you in any position so easily, he’s so strong, god that fucking BODY

-           UGH MORNING PEOPLE RIGHT

  Solomon

-          Night Owl man for sure. Has about a million ways of keeping you up with him throughout the night, only some of which are lewd. To be fair, it’s all very enriching – either to studies or to your relationship with him. He has a lot to talk about, even if he somehow manages to say nothing about himself after hours of conversation.

-          “Routine” is probably a bunch of magical getting ready quick tricks. The bastard probably doesn’t even need to get dressed, just snaps his fingers and his clothes are hanging off him. He offers to help you though. Naturally, it’s his responsibility, since he was the one who –

-           Doesn’t actually always undress you but he’d probably always offer to help you get dressed. Your clothing may find itself lost or misplaced until you cave and ask him for help. Maybe one day you carry a little glitter pouch in your pants pocket as revenge, that’ll teach him…

-           Jokes on you Solomon is absolutely utterly into this shit and when you pull one over on him he is thoroughly delighted

-          Actually a very light sleeper (72 pacts ain’t super safe) but pretends not to be. You’ll figure it out eventually, he knows, but before you do, he’s hoping to catch you fawning over his sleeping face.

-          Lucifer may be god’s most beautiful creation but Solomon is possibly the most beautiful human. Oh my god. Look at this man. Fair hair, that smooth face with clean, sleek features. The only minus is that you can’t see his eyes but his eyelashes are white. What the fuck. Did Asmo give him beauty tips? Does he just have a spell? Are you under a spell??

o   Asmo can’t enchant you but apparently Solomon can do it in his sleep. His hair is too soft. He can’t be human, right? No human can make you want to pet his hair this much. Maybe him and Mammon are using the same hair products.

-          Solomon almost tears up a little bit feeling you stroke him and sigh as you ponder your lovesickness. He doesn’t recognize this feeling in himself. Vulnerability and shows of affection are things of the long-distant past.

-          He wakes up before you and doesn’t pretend, sometimes, because this is a novel experience too, having another human sleep so close to him. It’s been so long it feels like it’s never happened before, and it feels different now that he’s different; he’s been so disconnected and dissociated it feels strange to think of you as his love who is holding onto him, instead of another living, breathing human who will eventually wither and die.

-          For all his obnoxiousness he will totally teach you some magic tricks to streamline your morning routine along with him. Less time getting ready means more time chatting with him.

-           Asmo taught him to do makeup so he will do that for you the long way, actually, if you like, and his sense of style is really good. Well, you think it’s good. You think he looks good. Listen, if you were turned off by his strange fashion choices you would never have gotten this close to him to begin with, it’s really not that weird –

-           He’s just so happy he gets to touch your faaaaacceee he can’t remember the last time he touched another human’s face. It’s so soft! The feeling of your cheeks against his fingertips is warm and smooth and so pleasant to the touch, he almost doesn’t want to use a brush. He’s got to ask Asmodeus about skin care, you should preserve what you can, as best you can…

-           The funny part is that Solomon doesn’t fucking say any of this to you so he’s just standing there, smiling at your face like a creeper, humming contemplatively to himself while he strokes your jaw. Like, you’re into it, and you know what he’s actually thinking, but damn Solomon sweetheart this is why people call you shady

  Barbatos

-          Has passed far beyond the realm of “morning person”. Time is immaterial to him. His day is separated into I am the Prince’s Butler and I am a Baker and recently I am a Boyfriend.

-          Yes he does sleep. He IS a demon and demons need sleep. There is in fact a bed in his room. How is this possible, you ask?

-          It turns out our dear sweet Barbatos is a FUCKING CHEATER

-          CHEATING WHORE

-          ABSOLUTE HACK

-           All of the doors in his room lead to different timelines, including the entrance. Barbatos can sleep until 10am in the morning in his room, and open a portal to 5am outside his room, then leave and start the day without changing the timeline at all.

-           This is okay though, because now you’re in on it, too. Barbatos takes great pleasure in being your cuddly morning boyfriend, with that added perk of permanently being allowed to sleep in.

-          No WONDER he always has the energy to deal with Diavolo all the time, and no wonder he never lets anyone in his room. This is where Barbatos rests, where he gathers his strength (and dear god does he need it), and rests, completely and utterly gone to the world, assured in the fact that he will never ever be disturbed.

-          Literally impossible to wake up before him. Future Barbatos, who’s already slept in, will always return with breakfast five minutes before you wake up. Where is the Barbatos of the present timeline? Who knows. Maybe only one of him can exist at once?

-           The only way to avoid this is if you tell him with your best pleading face that you want to cook breakfast with him… in which case he will still just wait for you to wake up whenever it suits you best, and then gently, with that terribly serene smile and significantly-less-dead-than-normal looking eyes, ease you out of the pillow and blankets, lead you towards the kitchen.

-           Probably doesn’t trust you with many kitchen implements when you’ve just woken up, even if you are a morning person. But you can lean over his shoulder and hug him while he works. Even if it makes it more difficult, Barbatos is never anything but happy for the challenge.

-           That the breakfast is always delicious, no matter how much of a part you have in baking it. It’s always healthy and balanced, too. If you’re eating it in bed, there’s probably more finger foods. He makes your favorites, but also introduces you to something new every now and then.

-          At this rate you are going to forget how to dress yourself. Does he also have a portal in his closet? To worlds of never-ending fashion and comfortable, stylish clothes which you can never seem to easily zip up all by yourself?

-          Showers with you to ensure you use the appropriate products at the right time. He carefully makes sure the water is not too hot or too cold, shampoos your hair thoroughly with excellent massaging skills; his nails are surprisingly long and just a little bit sharp, a gentle, soothing scrape against your scalp that helps you feel really clean. Then applies conditioner, making sure not to rinse out too much, scrubs you down a bit with body wash while the conditioner does its work.

-           If you shave he will help you shave. He’ll even shave for you (yes, he has done it for Diavolo, yes, he will help you shave anywhere, if you want it) and he never so much as leaves a nick.

-           Also carefully applies body oil or lotion either in the shower or as you dry off, in order to keep your skin soft and healthy. He does touch it a lot after all :)

-           Will style your hair like an absolute professional. Diavolo is always wearing his hair the same old way so if you’re interested he’d be THRILLED to try out some new things and hone his skills on you in that respect.

#obey me #shall we date obey me #lucifer #lucifer x reader #mammon #mammon x reader #leviathan #leviathan x reader #satan #asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #belphegor #belphegor x reader #diavolo #diavolo x reader #solomon #solomon x reader #barbatos #barbatos x reader #obey me headcanons #headcanon #how do tags work on this website idk #how does FORMATTING work on this website wtf #ao3 crosspost #look upon my formatting and despair #gender neutral reader

[innocent-malfoy-slut]

Days with Draco

A/N: this came out longer than I’d expected

... if you were public:

Draco would kiss you wherever and whenever he can

at breakfast, in the Great Hall, he would give you little pecks on your cheeks every now and then, maybe he would also wrap your should with his arm and pulling you closer to him

so close that you have your leg resting on his thigh as you talked with Pansy and Daphne on your right

he would spend breakfast making plans for the day with Blaise, or just staring at you as you were focused on repeating for an up-coming test

since you’re both Slytherins, you would walk hand-in-hand to your classes

and when he feels extremely sweet, Draco would bring your books for you

between a class and another you would lean against a cold, stone-made wall and kiss until you’re out of breath, your lips reddish and swollen

Professors McGonagall and Snape definitely wouldn’t like that, so you tried to be as careful a you could before their lessons 

you would wait lunch being served in the Slytherin’s common room, together with your group of friends, chatting about the morning lessons 

the topics would change, and also the attitude of your friends towards some other people, what would never change was you, sitting on Draco’s lap, his hands brushing against your thighs, under your skirt, while yours would just lay on his arm

you didn’t pay attention to any of their talks, you just enjoyed being touched by your boyfriend and, even though you were in a room crowded of people, you laid there, shivering whenever his fingers went up too far

“remember where we are” you would scold him careful not to let everyone else hearing you

“I wouldn’t mind showing them how much of a good girl you are”

your little interaction stopped there, as you were told to make it to the Great Hall for lunch

it would be very similar to breakfast; your leg resting on his, though this time you would just pay attention to each other -your friends not even trying to engage a talk with you

during the early hours of the afternoon you would just sit under a tree far away from the castle, enjoying the silence the nature had to offer you

Draco would have his arm around your shoulders, canceling any distance between you two

your head would be resting in the crock of his neck and your hands would be waved together, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hands, and you doing the same

“what about studying in my room today?”

both of you knew how little homework you would do when alone in a room, so you would try a compromise 

“let’s study in the library until five and then we go to your room?”

Draco would just put on a pout and give you the puppy’ eyes, though after a while you had learned to say “no” to them. and that was what you would do

as you had already imagined, the hours spent in Draco’s room hadn’t led you to study, instead you’d spent hours snogging and rubbing against each other

only ten minutes after closing the door behind your backs, your clothes  would already be scattered around the room and you’d be straddling him

“I really like this subject” Draco’d have his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and closer to him, while his mouth would leave wet, hot kisses on your shoulder going up to your chin “I’m astonished by your beauty, my love”

Draco had always beee great with words, amazing you each time he’d make you a compliment. particularly, he’d love to address flatteries to your body when he had the chance

it would make you blush and hide your face in the crock of his neck, “you don’t need to do that every time”

“I’ll stop when you will stop blushing” from that moment on your kisses would change into desperate and passionate, burning every inch of your skin, his hands cupping your face, or gather your hair in a ponytail with his fingers

you’d shivered underneath his touch as if it was the first time, and it only increased when Draco’s fingers reached the latch of your bra and, with a swift move, removed it 

both his hands would grabbed your tits, his skilled fingers playing with your pinkish nipples, before placing his lips on them 

“D-draco” you’d moaned as you felt his tongue caressing them, gently at first and as time passed, he’d suck more harshly, making you moan

the increase would make you a “wet mess” -as Draco loved calling you 

as you frantically grinned against his hips, you felt him growing harder beneath you -it could get inside you without much of effort

“what’s wrong, my love?” he mocked you, a smirk plastered on his face “do you want anything?”

you moaned and tried to rub your thighs, smoothing the not ignorable aching core 

“talk to me, baby” his grasp on your chin would be rough, forcing your eyes in his “what something?”

“you...all of you” you captured his lips in yours and let your hands wander on his bare torso, “please, Draco” 

“I still don’t get what you want, honey” while saying it, he would hit your throbbing cunt

“please, Draco, fuck me” you’d squint your eyes as the ache became unbearable “fuck me with your fingers, your mouth, your cock”

Draco would give a quick look at the clock on his bedside table“well, we don’t have enough time, so...you’d better be ready for this”

you put a spell on the door and put away your wand once and far all, finally focusing only on the two of you

meanwhile Draco had lowered his boxers, his cock was already reddish and the tip was leaking with the pre-cum, “all this only for me?” you teased him as you gave him a few strokes, before alining it at your entrance

you slide it easily in, taking it all the way in until its tip hit your deepest spot, “you’re so big”

you knew that kind of statement would increase his ego, but you also liked seeing his satisfied smirk on his face every time you would say that

“and you’re fucking tight”

your words game would go on for a while, though it’d be cut off by you bouncing on his cock and him staring at you, arms crossed behind his head, as you struggled to keep it together

he’d take control only when he noticed your legs trembling and your arms no longer holding your weight. without flipping you over, he’d pound into you at an ungodly speed, faster and faster

“you’re not capable of taking control” he’d hold your head near to his hearts -which you heard beating inside his chest- while he’d make you reach your high, “you keep trying, but you fail every” thrust “single” thrust “time”

a flow of hot cum would be released into you as you reach your climax at the same time

“I love you” “I love you, too”

after dinner you’d part your ways, until the next morning

...if you were not public (most likely belonging to a different house): 

Draco would definitely tease you in public from afar, but when behind ht e door of a safe room he’d be the best of the boyfriends -showing you a never-seen side of him

you’d wake up at the sound of your clock going on, together with all your dorm mates

you’d enter the Great Hall next to your friends, talking with them as you sat down at your house’s table

maybe at first you’d actually be interested in their conversation, but then a owl delivered you a letter 

a deep black envelope with the silver seal reminding a serpent which you carefully unfolded and found inside it a black card which said: “meet me at the Girl’s Lavatory out of service”

you’d excuse yourself from your your friends and quickly walked out of the Hall, climbing up the stairs and opening the door of the bathroom once you had reached it

Draco Malfoy would already be there, waiting for you resting against the wall

“are we late, aren’t we?” with only three steps he’d be a few inches in front of you

“I’ve got short legs, it isn’t my fault” you’d try to catch his lips between yours but you failed as he threw his head back “don’t you want your good morning kiss? well, I can go and give him to someone else”

no matter how old that sentence would be, it would always make him jealous 

in fact, also that time, he’d grab your wrist and pull you back against him

“stupid girl” Draco’d lean in for a gentle kiss, your lips soft and tasting against his “my stupid girl”

you’d melt in his thigh embrace and leave at him the job to lead the kiss

it soon turned into a make out session, which kept its sweet way

“see you again here after your last morning class”

you’d leave the bathroom at the distance of 10 minutes from one another and you’d meet up with your friends soon after -avoiding their questions about your strange behaviour

the thought of seeing him again would keep you from focusing on your classes, though you’d always manage to be among the top 5 students of each class

as you were about to turn around the corner and enter the bathroom on the first floor, you’d see someone else sneaking in

you’d put on a pout and metal hex whoever dared to stole your place of secret meeting with Draco

“is something wrong, Y/N?” by the time you had searched for another solution, your friend would have reached you and started worrying seeing you staring at the wall

Draco’d observe the scene from behind another wall, not wanting to keep his eyes off of you as you came up with an excuse to your friend

during the lunch all you did you exchanging looks with your boyfriend 

at first they were innocent, like hidden smiles and quick glances over the table where the other was seated, but then you played too much you the fork in your mouth -you didn’t do it on purpose- and once your eyes went back on him you found him staring at you

on the other end, Draco was dying to meet you, though he was slowly realising you wouldn’t have met him until later that afternoon -being you busy studying with your friends

for the first time since you started seeing each other, Draco decided to sit down with Blaise, Pansy and Daphne in the library, not far away from you -though you were turning your back at him

“try not to fuck her here, okay?” Blaise’s words would block any Draco’s attempt to imagine what would it be like to bend you over the table where you were

Blaise would be the only one to know and no, Draco had never told him anything

“next time remember people can hear her screams from the common room” was how your boyfriend found out his friends knew 

the afternoon passed slowly and painfully, according to Draco Malfoy

when he sat down at the Slytherin’s table, his mind was filled with imagines of you -acting in the most provocative way

he swallowed the entire banquet, if only he would have been able to do that, just to end it and bring you to his room

“mate, she has just left” 

Draco would run out of the Great Hall and discreetly walk closely behind you

you’d smiled at yourself as you perceived his presence behind you and you took the next turn as a chance to grab him by his wrist

“I can’t wait any longer” you made him lean into you and you placed your lips on his

the kiss didn’t keep soft, instead you soon found yourself being pinned up against the wall 

his fingers traced your inner thigh, make you more wet and he went up and down 

 you moaned into the kiss, which allowed him a better entrance in your mouth

“w-we can’t h-here”

“the things I can’t do are very little” he turned you around, your face meeting the cold stone of the wall as he pushed up your clock and your skirt, your soaked panties vanished inside his robe, “fucking you against this wall isn’t among them”

you heard him unbuckling his belt and then his trousers

the cold air hit your cunt and you inhaled deeply

Draco wouldn’t give you any kind of warning before filling you up with his cock

“you’re always so ready to take me in”

“my warm and wet cunt”

he’d pinch your clit, making it harder for you to hold back your moans, “keep quiet” he’d scold you putting his hand over your mouth

his thrusts would become sloppier and faster as both your climax approached

he’d grabbed you by your throat and made you arch your back up to the point where your head was resting on his shoulder

he’d give you a kiss, only as an excuse to spit into your mouth and watch you as your high washed you

“that’s right, take it like the desperate cum slut you are”

he’d cum into you without any warning -again- and keep himself inside you for a couple of minutes -making himself sure his cum wouldn’t go wasted on the floor

he’d watch as you tried to recompose yourself -as if you hadn’t been fucked right in the middle of the hallway

“fuck, it’s sticky” you looked down between your legs and notice a drop of cum went down your inner thigh

you tried to wipe it away but your hand was blocked by Draco’s “leave it there”

“don’t you think I’m done with you” he’d smack your ass “walk”

your next stop would be the Astronomy Tower, where he’d fuck you other three times, before finally letting you head back to your dorm

#Draco Malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n #Draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x you #draco Malfoy x female!reader #draco malfoy smut #Harry Potter #tom felton #tom felton x reader #tom felton x y/n #tom felton x you #smut #harry potter smut #headcanon #smut headcanons

[wardenparker]

You’re So Vain - Chapter 8

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Oscar winning star Dieter Bravo’s reputation is suffering after the debacle of “Cliff Beasts 6″ and “Beasts of the Bubble”, so his management team has signed him on to a publicity stunt to find his soulmate and show the world a softer side of the erratic and unpredictable star. The plan quickly go awry, though, when Dieter’s soulmate wants nothing to do with him.  

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+! We finally made it! Word Count: 10.9k Warnings: *Blanket warning for chronic illness, cursing, and deceased family members. This is a Dieter fic, folks, so there absolutely will be discussions of drugs, drug use, and addiction.* Enemies to lovers, fake dating, angst, a dash of fluff, and a surprising amount of yearning. Summary: Date #5 is a bust, but Taco Tuesday is the real test of what lays ahead for you and Dieter. And what lies ahead is nothing like either of you expected... Notes: I have nothing to say for myself this week, guys. I just *really* love these two idiots.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

It’s been two days since you’ve heard from Dieter. Surprising, considering the fact that you’ve now slept with him, and you would be lying if you claimed it didn’t hurt a little. Maybe you were nothing more than convenient in the moment and that’s all it was. Just a moment. But you have to begrudgingly admit to yourself, standing on the Santa Monica Pier waiting for him to show up for your fifth scheduled date, that you’re hurt that he hasn’t even texted.

Of course, you hadn’t sent anything either. Too afraid of being rejected in the very sober light of day to brave even a “Hey”. You had left a note, and he had chosen to ignore you. That’s what you get, apparently. You get rejection. He’ll probably show up tonight like nothing is wrong and not even acknowledge that anything ever happened.

If you had begun to let yourself hope that you were more than a contract to him, the message is now clear: you are a means to an end. He’s probably forgotten about taco night, too, and you’ll have to explain to a heartbroken Nora why her newly minted uncle won’t be showing his face around the house again. And it’s your fault for getting your hopes up. Looking out over the water, you check your phone again and sigh. He’s late. Only five minutes but still, he’s late. Figures.

******

“I’m not going.” Dieter has been arguing with Libby for forty-five minutes. Staring darkly up at his manager as he very pointedly sits in his boxers and a bathrobe, not dressed for his date. “I’m never going again. So just fucking forget it. Let her out of that stupid ass contract, because I have no intention of doing anything else.” That was entirely true, because apparently Nora knew about Taco Tuesday and he wasn’t disappointing her, but after waking up alone, he wanted nothing to do with you.

“If you would tell me what the hell happened, I might consider it.” She’s asked five times now and he keeps dodging the question, and it’s making her more and more aggravated. Dieter can be evasive in general, but this is bad even for him. “You’re already late, so what’s the five minutes it’s going to take to tell me why you hate her all over again?”

He stares at her for a few moments, about to continue the stubborn silence but he finally huffs. Looking away in embarrassment and a little sadness, he mumbles, “She took off while I was asleep.” He confesses quietly.

Libby stares right back for a second, jaw almost dropping open before she can stop herself. That was not the response she had been expecting, and judging from the pout on his face it’s actually something that is upsetting him. “No note?” She asks, leaning back against his sink. “She seems like the note type.”

“Fucking nothing.” He sneers, shaking his head. “She’s made it clear that she regrets it. Didn’t even text me. So I’m not going to bother.”

“Maybe she thought you would regret it and didn’t want to hang around just to be asked to leave.” If anything, Libby would be a damn liar if she claimed nothing like that had ever happened to her when she first got to LA. The doubting expression on Dieter’s face is unshakeable, though, and she shrugs. “I don’t know, Dee. Neither of you has ever been particularly excited about the whole thing but it’s doing exactly what we want it to.” She puts on her most excited face, trying to entice him into some kind of positivity. “The contract from Paramount that just came through has a clause for two more pictures and they approved your entire rider.”

“No.” Dieter shakes his head and huffs. “I don’t care, it’s enough.” He tells her. “Once I get through Taco Tuesday and leave for Switzerland, I’m happy to never think about her again.”

“Taco Tuesday?” She raises an eyebrow at him in question. Usually he’s not one to participate in cutesy shit like that.

Dieter rolls his eyes and huffs again, feeling a little self-conscious. “I promised Nora I would watch Toy Story with her, and Tuesday is the only day that would work and it’s apparently Taco Tuesday in their household.” He explains, making sure to emphasize that he was going for Nora. Kids don’t deserve the shitty end of the stick because their aunt sucks.

“Tuesday is tomorrow,” Libby tells him gently, in case he hasn’t looked at a calendar yet today. He made his costume fitting earlier but that was because the studio sent a car for him. “You’re gonna go have dinner with her tomorrow after standing her up tonight?” Her shoulders tense, seeing the obvious flaw in that plan. “You know I can’t let her out of the contract, Dee. It’s too important. But if you post the tiniest bit on your social media from dinner tomorrow night, I’ll call her right now and tell her to go home. Can we call that a deal?” There’s still the sixth date to consider, and she’ll have to figure out what the hell to do about it, but she can cross that bridge on her own and tell him the plan later.

Dieter bites his lip but after a moment of consideration, he blows out a sigh. “Fine.” He narrows his eyes at Libby. “But I’m not doing a sixth date.” He promises. “Sue my ass, I don’t care.”

“I’ll figure something out.” She’s good at that. The problem solving of having movie star clients is something that she’s very good at, in fact. He doesn’t always like her solutions at first, but she definitely gets her desired results four out of five times. That’s why she’s worked for him for so long - she works for him.

“Yeah.” Dieter rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat; happy he’s gotten his way. “Don’t tell her.” He decides, smirking slightly. “Let her sit there.”

“She’s not the Wicked Witch of the West, Dee.” Libby shakes her head. She has no intention of letting you stew, but judging from how hurt he is she might wait a little while before calling. “I’m guessing this was about the party?”

“It’s about the fact that she snuck out of bed and left and didn’t even give me a ‘fuck you Bravo’!” He leaps up out of his seat and turned to the window. The sheets had been changed and he was honestly thinking about getting rid of the entire bed.

“Dee.” Libby almost groans at the realization but smothers it with a sigh. “You like her now. Don’t you? You did a complete 180.”

“No.” He refuses to look her in the face, staring out at the pool as if he can magically transport himself to it. “I don’t and drop it.” He warns, turning around to level a glare at her.

Holding up both hands in a show of innocence, Libby takes a step back out of range of his glare. “Okay, okay.” He absolutely fucking does like you. She’s only ever seen him go from childish to angry like this when his heart is completely on the line, so she definitely has her answer. And that is enough to let her change the subject. “Are you packed yet?”

“Yes.” Dieter shrugs one shoulder and gestures towards his closet. “No. I’ll be ready by the time I leave.” Because of the locale and what it means, he will dress a little better. As if in tribute to his sister. She would have pulled his ear if he tried to walk into a museum in a bathrobe.

“I’ll get you packed.” Like with everything else in his life, Libby knows Dieter’s most and least favourite things, and also the things that are bad habits that she can help break him of with a little gentle prodding. Like packing shirts that fit him properly as well as the soft, shapeless t-shirts that he loves. “I’ll come by tomorrow while you’re doing your at taco night and pack you up. We won’t do it tonight so that you don’t have to think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” Dieter shrugs and turns away from the window. “I’m gonna go for a swim.” He announces, eager to get away from the questioning eyes of his manager.

“Okay.” Libby nods, knowing that that is the end of the conversation for tonight. “Try to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Dieter glances at the woman studying him and gives another halfhearted shrug. “‘Night.” He tells her. “Go home to your soulmate. Stop worrying about mine.”

“I worry about you,” she clarifies, but turns for the door. “I haven’t stuck with you for twenty years just for the pay, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He huffs, smiling slightly and rolling his eyes. “It’s because you’re secretly in love with me.”

“Our little secret.” Libby offers him a smile, and turns to leave. She’ll come back tomorrow and pack some of his favorite treats into his suitcases for Switzerland. With Dieter the little things make all the difference, and if he’s nursing a broken heart then he deserves all the big and little things in the world.

Dieter peels off his robe and dives into the pool, not even caring that he’s not wearing swimming trunks. The cool water surrounds him and instantly relaxes his volatile emotions. He hopes you are standing at that pier a long time, although he figures you probably didn’t even show up yourself.

******

It’s been two hours, but you haven’t dared to call or even text him. If he didn’t bother contacting you after fucking you, and now he’s just not showing up for one of his manager’s precious arranged dates? He’s done with you. The message couldn’t be clearer: You served your purpose and now he’s done. The worst part isn’t that you’re being rejected by your soulmate. Sure that’s fucking heart breaking to think about, but the worst part is that you’re going to have to explain to Nora that she isn’t going to see him ever again.

******

Dieter huffs to himself as he stands in front of the door he would have been happy to be in front of just a week ago. Or at least not as upset to be here. He knows you will be here, but he’s just going to focus on Nora. The gift in his hand for her. Sighing, he presses the doorbell at seven on the dot.

Your neck nearly snaps when the doorbell rings, and you can hear Nora happily cheering from the living room where she and Steph have been setting up the movie and TV trays around the sofa for movie night. Your time in the kitchen is usually soothing but all you’ve been able to think about is actually joking with Dieter in the car about taco toppings like some kind of normal couple getting to know each other instead of the fucked-up mess you are together. For whatever godforsaken reason, though, he’s here. And on time, to boot. “I’ll get it!” Steph calls, hurrying to the door before you can even put your knife down. She’s heard you crying the last couple of days and she hates it, so beating you to the door is an effort to prevent immediate shouting.

He’s relieved to see a face that he considers friendly. “Hey Steph.” He greets her breathlessly and bites his lip. “I, uh, Nora and I are supposed to watch Toy Story?”

“Yeah,” she nods, being plenty aware of the plan. She had thought it was a great sign until she saw your mood the last few days. “Come on in. It’s…uh, it’s a family thing, so that includes you.”

“I don’t know about family.” He murmurs, feeling self-conscious and apprehensive about seeing you again. “But I appreciate the opportunity to see Nora before I leave.”

“You’re family.” Steph assures him quietly, shutting the door behind him. “Family doesn’t always agree or get along one hundred percent of the time, but they matter to each other. And Uncle Deedee matters.”

“Maybe to Squirt.” Dieter huffs and reaches into the bag to pull out a bottle of tequila he had brought her. “For my hostess. Can’t have tacos without tequila.”

“Thanks.” She really is at a loss for what to say beyond trying to promise him that he is not the enemy. Not to her and Nora. Your stance is a little shaky at the moment. “Come on in. There’s fresh guacamole and queso and more chips than have ever been in one place before.”

Dieter is saved from more awkward conversation by a loud, happy squeal. “Uncle Deedee!” He turns and grins when he sees Nora rushing towards him, outfitted in her Jessie costume. “Hey, Squirt!”

Steph shuffles into the kitchen guiltily to grab the appetizer tray and you nearly wince. “I can’t believe he came.”

“Well, he’s here.” Steph murmurs softly.

“Yeah.” You nod in the vaguest way possible, feeling small and petty for being hurt over it. “I know it’s just for Nora. I know that. But—” But he couldn’t at least text you to tell you that he had gotten what he wanted? “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t go out there.”

Steph sighs and rolls her shoulder back, listening to the sounds of Dieter and Nora chatting animatedly. “What happened?” She’s tired of assuming the worst, but she’s determined to figure out how to advise you.

“We—” You sigh, putting down the knife in your hand and looking down at the kitchen counter instead of up at your friend. “We slept together. And I don’t remember much, to be honest. But I had to leave the next morning to get home and I couldn’t wake him up, so I left him a note. Apparently that wasn’t good enough because he hasn’t spoken to me since and he stood me up yesterday.”

“Oh shit.” Out of everything, Steph hadn’t expected that. Not even with you coming home the next morning. You had looked hung over, so she had just assumed you had crashed. “I— are you—was it—?” She can’t get the words out because she doesn’t believe Dieter is that type of man, but…

“I don’t know.” Shrugging deeply, you scrub both hands down your face and groan. “I know I enjoyed myself. I remember that much. But clearly that doesn’t mean shit.”

“How do you know you enjoyed it?” She asks, concerned.

“I started remembering little bits.” It was a shock, the first time a little memory had come back to you, and you had pushed it out of your head immediately, but a few more memories had followed over the last few days. “Just a few flashes, but graphic ones.” And it hurts so much worse knowing it had been good before it all went wrong again.

She feels a little better at that, knowing you aren’t the type of person to just give in if you don’t want something. “And of course, talking isn’t an option.” She murmurs to herself, amazed at how stubborn the two of you are. A perfect match in her opinion.

“The ball is still in his court.” You have no problem saying that, but he better have a hell of an apology for yesterday. “I left him a note. He chose not to talk to me after that.”

Steph bites her lip, knowing that you wouldn’t appreciate her putting in her obvious questions. You already feel like she’s ‘team Dieter’ so it’s best to not ask where you left the note. “Just— hopefully tonight goes well.” She murmurs finally.

“I’m not going to cause shit.” Of course not. You wouldn’t do that to your niece. “Tonight is for Nora.”

“For Nora.” Steph nods, reaching out and rubbing your shoulder gently. “I’m here if you need to talk.” She offers, knowing that you normally run to talk to her, but this time you’ve been quiet.

“I’ll get over it.” It’s barely a mumble as you go back to slicing radishes to add to the tray of taco toppings. “He obviously got what he wanted from me. No use pretending it was anything more.”

Your best friend sighs and shakes her head, wondering why they hell you haven’t learned your lesson about communication. “If that’s what you want.” She comments as she walks out into the main living area.

******

Dinner would have been pure torture if not for the movie. Nora happily chatters along with the dialogue while the adults eat much more slowly, and you park yourself in the armchair next to the end of the couch he isn’t sitting on to put some distance between you. Not that he’s even glanced in your direction the entire night. Not one single time. And no matter how many times you tell yourself that it is what it is, it still fucking hurts.

Dieter can feel the aching hurt just crawling under his skin. Making him want to scratch endlessly along his body and tear it out. He wants to yell at you, demand to know why he wasn’t good enough. Worse, he wants to kiss you again.

It’s bullshit that you have to sit here and pretend everything is okay, and you practically jump up out of your seat when Nora yawns and stretches as the credits begin to roll. Picking up plates and cups and loading everything onto a tray to bring back to the kitchen, everything is fine until you reach to snag the plate from in front of Dieter without realizing that his hand was touching it. Touching him is not what you needed tonight.

Dieter yanks his hand back like he’s been burned, hating the way that his stomach twists and clenches almost painfully. “I gotta go, Squirt.” He murmurs as he all but leaps up off the couch and pats his pockets for his keys. “You be good for your mom, okay?”

“Uncle Deedee nooooo!” She pouts, yawning again. “Don’t want you to go!” She’s had fun tonight and even though she knows she’s going to have to go to bed she wants him there until the very last second.

“How about I carry you up?” He compromises, heart melting towards the little girl. She has a special place in his heart. A reminder of everything good and sweet that was still around.

“Really?” She just about lights up, arms already open wide to sling around his neck. “Yes, please!”

He pretends to grunt, huffing at her playfully. “Bigger than you look, squirt.” He teases. “Might have to carry me upstairs.”

“Noooooo.” She giggles, grabbing on to him like she used to do to with Shawn when he carried her the same way. It makes you want to scream and cry and ask him what the hell you did wrong this time, but you can’t even open your mouth or move.

It’s a fucking shame that this wonderful little girl was your niece. Especially since he was certain that eventually you would prevent him from seeing her or Steph again. “Okaaaaay.” He grumbles and starts for the stairs. “I’ll carry you this time.”

Steph disappears after them as you pile things up on the tray and bring them back to the kitchen. There’s a lot to clean up and you’re probably going to have a hell of a lot to drink once he’s gone, drowning the remnants of chips and guac in tequila like it will somehow make you less sad.

******

Upstairs, Dieter is fascinated by Nora’s bedtime routine. Nodding as she shows him her toothbrush and humming in approval when she reappears in a Toy Story nightgown. When she’s in her bed, he winks at her and bends down to kiss her forehead. “Night, squirt.”

“Night night.” Nora hugs him tight before reaching for her mother, demanding more hugs from a second source. “Night night, Mommy. And night night to Auntie Gigi.”

His stomach twists at the mention of you and he gives a small smile as he backs out of the doorway. Having every intention of sneaking out without seeing you again.

An intention that backfires when you’re standing in the living room collecting rejected drink glasses when he hits the bottom of the staircase. “Thank you for not punishing her for things she has nothing to do with.” Twenty minutes alone in the kitchen and that’s what you decided to say to him. No yelling, no anger, no self-pity.

Snorting, he can’t even begin to fathom the audacity you have. “She speaks!” He cries softly, scornfully. “She’s innocent.”

“I speak?” And just like that, the self-righteous fury is right on the surface. “You have been freezing me out, not the other way around.”

He probably resembles a fish the way that his mouth works for several moments, opening and closing without any words coming out of them. Indignation fills him and he narrows his eyes. “Considering the way you snuck out and didn’t say a goddamn word, I figured it was exactly what you wanted.”

“I told you exactly where I was going.” You shoot back, glad the cups in your hands are all plastic and all empty. “But I’m sorry a damn note isn’t good enough for Dieter fucking Bravo. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

“What note?” He demands, hands on his hips and his voice creeps up a notch. “You didn’t leave a fucking note!” Sneering, he shakes his head. “I woke up, alone, after a great night to find out my soulmate would prefer a walk of shame rather than stay in the bed with me.”

The way your face falls is complete – understanding dawning all at once. “On your sketch pad. It was the only paper I could find.” You tell him, voice strangled in your throat. “I left you a note that I had to come home to take care of Nora but that we should talk.” At the time you had been afraid of him not being happy to see you there in the morning but now he’s calling it great? “I tried to wake you up…but you wouldn’t budge.”

He wants to call you a liar, to scoff and say that there was no note on his sketch pad, but he hadn't looked at it. Especially after waking up alone and feeling the overwhelming disappointment that had crept over him. He had searched the entire house for you, until Rico told him that he had taken you home, although he had cut the man off before he could even finish the statement. "I—" His voice cracks and he shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for you. Trying to shield himself from being vulnerable as his shoulders round. "I didn't see it." He admits, voice low. "I just – I thought you regretted it and I – when I am completely relaxed and....happy, I'm a heavy sleeper."

“When I just didn’t hear anything from you, I thought you regretted it.” And you had cried yourself to sleep at the thought of your soulmate regretting you, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I don’t actually remember much…but I had promised Nora a trip to the zoo that next day, and I…” He looks so wounded, like a spurned puppy, and all of your anger completely melts away. Of course he was freezing you out if he thought you took off. You would have done the same thing. “If you called after you woke up, I was going to ask you to spend the day with us…but then I didn’t hear anything and I—I was afraid to call just to find out that you didn’t want to see me again…”

“I—” He’s horrified that you don’t remember, especially since he remembers everything. “I was looking for you.” He promises. “Wanted to— wanted to take you out to brunch. And maybe even bring you to the appointments I had, if you had wanted to.” He had woken up happy, not ready to let go of that date. “I thought you skulked out because you were upset you had— that we had slept together.”

“No.” Shaking your head and shoving your one free hand in your pocket purely out of nerves, all you can really do for a moment is stand there. “I wasn’t upset. I just wish I could remember more than a few flashes here and there.”

Dieter goes a little green, shuffling on his feet and reaching up to scrub at the back of his neck. “It was— uh, shit…” He hisses. “I didn’t coerce you; I promise.”

“I remember enough to know that,” you promise him quietly. And Rico had also assured you of it that morning. “I’m sorry we got our wires crossed, but I really—” Your drooping shoulders pull up in a shrug. “I’m sorry I was too scared to call. We could have had this conversation days ago.”

“I thought you still hated me.” He confesses, dropping his eyes down to the floor and staring at his feet. “That it was a mistake you had made when you were drunk.”

“I was definitely drunk.” That is definitely something you can say without hesitation. “But I hope it wasn’t a mistake.”

“What do you remember?” He asks, biting his lip as he thinks about that night. He had tried to avoid thinking about it after he woke up alone, but he was definitely thinking about it now.

“Um…” Glancing up the stairs, it’s clear that Steph is either reading Nora a second bedtime story or lingering on the top floor to give you privacy, and you make a mental note to thank her for it profusely - probably with cookies and booze. “I remember some specifically placed body shots…and feeling like you were going to rearrange my damn organs while you were inside me…” Saying any of it out loud - even slightly mumbling and quiet - just isn’t your normal kind of behaviour and you feel like your face is going to overheat and set on fire. “And that you wouldn’t let me go down on you because it had been a while.”

“So you don’t remember the car?” He asks quietly, cock twitching when he hears you telling him what you remember. The bottle of rum was still sitting on his bedside table. Even if he hadn’t slept in the bed since that morning.

“Wh—what did we do in the car?” Oh Jesus…you’re never going to be able to look Rico in the face ever again…

“You— I fingered you.” He tells you. “You were on my lap, and we couldn’t wait to get home.”

“That…” Even with one hand covering your face, you groan slightly in embarrassment. “That tracks. For me anyway. I’m—” Oh, the irony. “I’m kind of a horny drunk. In case that wasn’t clear.”

“Oh.” He nods, wondering if it was just because you were drunk. It must be, considering he doubts you would have slept with him sober. “That’s okay.” He tells you.

“No! No, shit, that’s not what I meant.” Having kept yourself from breaching the three feet between you, it seems like now it the time. He doesn’t step away as you step forward, so you’ll take that as a good sign as you gently reach out to touch his arm. “It’s like…if I’m with someone I like…it takes away the fear. All the voices in my head telling me why I shouldn’t, or trying to convince me that the other person doesn’t like me the same…they go away. Not that I’ll just throw caution to the wind and fuck anybody around after two glasses of champagne.”

Relief and honestly, fear, washes over him. Fear that you will find him lacking. That he will be everything you expected. “Okay.” He understands needing something to be relaxed enough. Fuck knows he’s done enough drugs to understand that. “I understand.” He swallows down the way his stomach rolls. “I didn’t— I don’t— it was really good.” He murmurs softly.

“Then I hope I remember more.” It’s been a little bit every day, and before right now, that has been a devastating thing to deal with. “I get why you stood me up, if you just thought I left without a word.”

“I didn’t see the note.” He murmurs, shuffling closer to you, as if drawn to you. “I’m sorry.” He knows now that it seems like he was a dick. “I just – I wish you had texted me. Or that I had woken up.” He blushes slightly.

“We’re sensationally bad at this.” It actually makes you laugh despite yourself, a wry little chuckle as he steps closer. “Maybe…” It’s a wild, crazy, flying leap, but it’s on the tip of your tongue and didn’t you just say how bad you are at communicating? “Maybe…I don’t know what filming is like…but maybe we could talk sometimes?” The part of you that wants to grab on to him right here and right now and start making ludicrous promises is definitely not the part to let free, but talking is good. Talking is responsible and positive and hopefully won’t backfire. The last few days have made it perfectly clear to you that you don’t want to just lose him altogether. “I know you’re leaving in a few days and you’re probably super busy…”

“We can talk.” Dieter interrupts, nodding quickly. “I— if you text me, I’ll answer when I can.” He doesn’t want to leave things in such an awkward place, hoping that at least the two of you can be amicable even if he wonders if it will ever be more than just that night.

“I can do that.” He’s so close that it would take almost no effort to just lean forward and kiss him but you’re sure that would be crossing a line. “By the time you get back, I’ll be back in school, so my schedule will be a little tighter. But that’s okay.”

He nods, now slightly regretting taking the project. He couldn’t have ever anticipated actually not wanting to leave so he could spend time with you, but here he is.

“Are we…” You hate how small your voice sounds, and how you’re still afraid to reach for him despite the small touch to his arm a second ago. This man has literally been inside you - you shouldn’t have to be afraid of touching him. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah.” Dieter nods, giving you a very serious look. “We’re okay. I’m sorry again.” He murmurs. “I—I would have texted you.”

“Thank god for Taco Tuesday, I guess.” Without it, you’d both be too stubborn and proud to have ever spoken up, and you would have gone on assuming that he regretted sleeping with you.

“Thank God for Taco Tuesday.” Dieter grins, shaking his head. He bites his lip and decides that while it will be too much to kiss you, but he does pull you in for a hug.

He’s a completely enveloping presence, with a broad as he is and as well as his arms fit around you. Both of your arms go around his waist, and even with the cups you’re hanging onto with one hand, you still feel like it’s the best hug you’ve had in years. You don’t want to admit that you’ll probably miss him while he’s gone, but right now you swear you’re so relieved at knowing he isn’t mad at you anymore that you might not let him go.

“So, let’s make a deal.” He murmurs, not wanting to quite let go of you. “We work on this communication thing.” He chuckles quietly. “Obviously we aren’t good at it. And my job is communicating with my audience.”

“We suck at it.” You snort, laughing a little against his chest. “Like we’re probably the poster couple for shitty communication.” It’s the first time that word has ever crossed your lips in reference to the two of you and you can feel the way you hold your breath instinctively - worried that you’ve stepped too far somehow. The only person who’s ever called you a couple is Libby or sometimes the media, but that doesn’t mean he actually wants to be with you.

“I don’t think Mate Marks wants to advertise that.” He huffs in amusement, unable to describe how light he feels when you call the two of you a couple. Even though he’s never wanted to think in those terms, since him…it just clicks in his brain. “We might have to just keep these stories an inside joke.”

“The world doesn’t have to know everything.” They definitely don’t know all of how rocky your beginning was, even if Fuck you, Bravo! did turn into an immediate meme. You do feel pretty bad about that one. “What are you thinking? Like phone chat dates? Or are we instituting an honesty time and banning sarcasm all together?” Pulling your head away from the sound of his heartbeat, you end up smirking a little. “Because if you ban sarcasm, I’m going to lose my sense of humour completely.”

“I like just the idea of before we put our foot in our mouths and assume, we just be honest first.” Dieter pulls back and smirks at you.

“So, completely the opposite of what we’ve been doing until now?” You huff at him, playfully indignant in the moment. “Fine, I guess.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “I better go.” He murmurs, sad that he has to. “I have an early morning.” With as much as he has to do, drinking and partying would have been limited even if he was still using.

“Okay.” It twists your gut in a way you don’t really know how to handle, but you hug him one more time before forcing yourself to let go and step back. A month is a long time, but maybe reducing your contact to only conversation will be good for this new resolution of better communication.

“Goodnight.” If the past few days hadn’t happened the way they had, he would kiss you, instead he just offers you a smile.

“Goodnight.” There’s an ache in your chest that you refuse to name as he walks through the front door, but at least this time you know he’ll be back - and it won’t be to yell at you.

******

Libby lets herself into Dieter’s house, unsure of what exactly is still going on between you and her client. She had called you as soon as she left, making apologies but not lying about why Dieter wasn’t showing up to the fifth date. Just that he wasn’t. She had heard the hurt and confusion in your voice.

Packing Dieter is simple. She knows his taste and what he needs, which things he prefers and which things he’ll only wear or use if she forces him. Since he’s going to Switzerland, she moves to gather up his favourite art supplies and stops short. A scrawled few sentences in handwriting she doesn’t recognize — signed by you. She knew you were a fucking note person! From how hurt Dieter was yesterday there’s no way he lied about not seeing it. He must genuinely have not picked up his sketchbook since then. The idea dawns slowly, but as she stares at the note that innocently explains having to take care of your niece and wanting to talk about what happened, she pulls her business phone from her pocket and opens the recent calls list to find the airline Dieter is flying to Switzerland. One more ticket needs to be bought, for a later flight to the same destination. In your name this time. The two of you are going to work this out if it kills you.

******

Dieter both loves and hates traveling. He loves visiting new places, physically seeing things that he would draw in his art classes in school. Trying new cuisine and learning local traditions. He hates everything to do with TSA and Customs. Finally on board, he sighs and reaches for his phone, deciding that he will at least send you a text before he turns it off for the flight. “Want Swiss chocolate when I come back?”

“The Lindt factory tour is on my bucket list 💗 that would be amazing of you.” The text comes back almost immediately, practically beaming through the phone.

Dieter grins and sends back a few emojis before the intercom on the plane come on. “👍🍫 🍫 🍫✈” He shuts off his phone and wonders when he can get a drink.

******

You’re still smiling at your phone over your breakfast when it unexpectedly rings. Libby’s name splashes across the screen and you scrunch your nose, wondering what she might have to say. Dieter just got on the plane; she can’t possibly be trying to schedule a date. “Hi Libby,” you decide not to send her to voicemail, knowing she’ll just call back if you do.

“I need you to pack your bags.” Libby announces without preamble. “You have a flight in three hours to Switzerland.”

“Excuse me?” Your jaw nearly hits the table, eyes blowing wide.

“The fifth date didn’t happen.” Libby reminds you, not that you are at fault. “You are going to join Dieter in Switzerland and stay with him while he is shooting the movie.”

“You’re serious?” There’s a mild panic in your voice, not because you don’t want to see him again but because his manager just expects you to pack up and rearrange your life at the drop of a hat. “Exactly how long are you supposedly sending me halfway across the world? I don’t exactly have the funds for that. And that means Steph will have no one to help look after Nora.”

“Actually, that’s already been taken care of.” Libby announces. “Rico will watch Nora; he has experience with managing Dieter so a four-year-old is a piece of cake.” She jokes with a small laugh. “And the ticket is already booked. First class. Everything will be covered for you while you are there.”

“What, you’re just going to hand me a copy of Dee’s black AmEx card and send me off to Europe?” You practically scoff into your phone but eventually sigh. The contract you signed never stated where or when the six dates would occur, so technically she is within her legal rights to say that visiting him there is one of them. “Does he know I’m coming?”

“Nope.” Libby practically sings the one-word answer. “I didn’t get a chance to tell him, but I’m sure he will be thrilled.” He hadn’t come home in a bad mood according to Rico when she checked in this morning; so it was promising.

“Didn’t get a chance to tell him or intentionally didn’t mention it?” Face dropping into one upturned palm, you huff another sigh and admit to yourself that it will be whatever it will be. “How long am I supposed to be there for, and do I get to wear my own clothes? Logistical questions are what I’m going to ask you instead of getting indignant at being surprised.”

“I’m going to have a selection of clothes waiting for you, but you should also bring your favorite things.” Libby pauses and decides that she’s going to give you leverage if you need it. “Dee likes you, just— think of it as a long-deserved vacation with your soulmate. And learning how hard he works.”

“Are you coming by to drop off my tickets?” Considering you haven’t flown out of any airport in nearly ten years, the intricacies of digital check ins and in-app boarding passes escape you. “I’ll have to talk to Steph about all this. Three hours isn’t a lot of prep time.”

“I can come by and make sure you have everything you need.” Libby promises, having already put together a travel kit for Dee’s soulmate. She likes you, despite the way the two of you seem to clash. And now that Dee has done a 180 on his feelings for you, she will be your biggest supporter if it means you make her client happy.

“Okay.” You take a sip of your coffee and lean back at the breakfast table. Steph and Nora are outside in the backyard gardening, so you might as well go talk to them now. “I’ll see you when you get here, then. I’m going to go talk to Steph.”

“Okay!” Having expected far more of an argument, Libby quickly agrees and hangs up the phone, doing a little victory dance in the hallway of her office.

Shoving your cell phone into your pocket and pushing back from the table, you grab your coffee mug with one hand and the remnants of your bagel in the other and head outside. “Nora baby, do you wanna head inside and wash your hands? I need to talk to Mommy for a second.”

It’s never a good sign when you sent Nora away, especially when she’s outside. Steph paints a smile on her face and nods at Nora. “Go on, sweetheart.” She urges her. “Adult conversations aren’t fun.”

“Libby called.” You start, as soon as Nora disappears past you into the kitchen, and you finish chewing the end of the bagel that you shoved into your mouth. “Apparently the fifth date has been rescheduled.”

“Oh?” As far as Steph knew, Dieter was leaving for Switzerland today. “Did his departure get delayed a week?”

“No. He texted me from the plane, he’s already left.” Both of your hands wrap around your coffee mug, and you blow out a nervous sigh. “It seems I’m going, too.”

“Do what?” Her mouth drops open in shock and she stares at you in shock. “I – I thought—” she doesn’t mention how upset you had been yesterday. After Dieter left, you had gone to your room, and she had been hesitant to go in to check on you.

“That was pretty much my reaction, too.” You admit, sinking down next to her in the chair that Nora had just vacated. “We talked before he left last night, and we said we’d talk while he was away and try to be better about communicating instead of assuming. But this…this is a lot. And by calling it the fifth date, it falls under the contract and I kind of have no choice.”

“I— you’re going to Switzerland!” Steph is shocked but one thousand percent happy for you to be able to travel. She chews her lip and nods. “Nora will just go to daycare and you better send me a million pictures!”

“Libby says she’s arranged for someone from Dee’s staff to help out. You know Rico? The guy from his security staff that drives him sometimes? Uh…apparently he has childcare qualifications.” It makes you tighten again inwardly, guilt for leaving mixing with excitement at being able to travel — and to be able to see Dieter. You have to admit that to yourself – you do actually want to see him. “You can say no, and I’ll tell her to just forget it. But I don’t want you to be without help while I’m gone.”

“Rico?” Steph arches a brow and shakes her head at you. “There is no way you are turning down an opportunity to travel.” She insists. “I’m assuming you aren’t having to pay for it?”

“Apparently it’s all-expenses-paid as far as I’m concerned.” You’ve never paid for a single thing where Dieter in concerned, and though that makes sense considering the contract and the fact that he makes literally millions more than you, it still makes you a little uneasy. The idea of taking advantage of him doesn’t sit well. “Libby’s on her way over to drop off the tickets and some other stuff.” Shuffling in your seat, you look over at your best friend and sigh. “The only thing is…he doesn’t know I’m coming. Libby clearly thinks making it a surprise is some kind of genius move.”

“I— he doesn’t know?” Steph frowns and sighs. “Does she know about what happened between you two?” She asks. “You said you two talked last night.”

“I don’t know what he told her, but I’m hoping she’s not gleefully sending me into what she thinks is a lion’s den.” A surprise is one thing, but a bad surprise is entirely another. “I guess we’ll do my birthday when I get back? Except it’ll be a reverse birthday since I’m definitely bringing you guys souvenirs.”

“Maybe she –” Steph bites her lip. “You think this is because he said something to her? To convince her that you needed to be there?”

“I really don’t know,” you admit, more than a trace of sheepishness in your voice. “But do you guys want to come upstairs with me while I pack? We can explain to Nora where I’m going together?”

“That sounds like a plan.” Steph quickly climbs to her feet. “It’s great.” She gushes. “You’ve wanted to travel more and now you get to.” She turns halfway to the door and grins. “You are going to have an amazing time.” She predicts.

******

Even in first class, eleven hours is a hell of a long time to be on an airplane. The nonstop flight included luxuries you didn’t even know airplanes offered, and you managed to finally finish reading the book you had started two weeks ago but could never find time for. Amazing food, drinks always just a polite request away, but still - eleven hours took its toll. Landing in Geneva at 10pm, you found yourself appropriately exhausted as you looked out into the sea of people waiting at the international arrivals gate to retrieve their travelers. Though you secretly hoped he would be there to pick you up you knew that it wouldn’t be the case, and sure enough a uniformed woman with white-blonde hair and a generous smile is holding a sign with your name on it.

Suitcases in the trunk, you pour yourself into the car for what the cheery woman promises will be a short drive. She hands you an envelope once you’re settled and pulls the car out into the streets of Geneva, headed for the Hôtel Métropole. A credit card with your name on it (clearly attached to a business expense account), a room key marked for the Calvin Suite, a map of the city, and a visitor’s pass for the studio you assume Dieter is working at, are all sitting inside waiting for you. Three weeks. Three weeks spending every single day in a country whose languages you don’t speak, spending hopefully just a tiny bit of time with your soulmate each day. This…might actually be fun, despite the layer of scared that’s coloring your outlook. You just wish Dieter knew you were coming.

******

Dieter groans as he steps out of the shower. It had been a grueling day, unfortunately the moment he disembarked and got through customs, he was busy. Meeting the director and taking care of the last-minute issues with his costume and character. A true ‘hit the ground running’ situation and he was exhausted. Thankfully the next two days were devoted to jet lag, allowing other pour souls to filter in from around the world to make this movie. As soon as he throws his robe on, he’s ordering too service and passing out. After he sends you a quick text to check in.

The hotel staff is kind when you are ushered inside, greeting you in French and then English as you pass by. The elevator would be distractingly gorgeous if you weren’t so tired, and you figure you’ll just get upstairs and order some room service and text Dieter before passing out. Steph already got a text to say you landed safely, and that was that. Since Dieter has no idea you’re here, you’ll surprise him fresh in the morning. Not in the crinkled linen shirt and jeans you just traveled half a day in.

Dieter had just put the hotel phone down, room service ordered, when he hears the electronic lock on his door gets accessed. Turning in bewilderment, he watches the door swing open slowly, as if someone is cautiously making their way in, wondering who the fuck has a key card to his room.

The second you’re through the door he’s right there, and you swear you couldn’t feel like more of an idiot if you tried. Libby has completely played you without effort - sending you on a surprise visit and giving you a key to his room so casually that you didn’t even stop to consider that you wouldn’t be given your own space. Of course not. This is all about getting the two of you seen together. Well…at least there’s a sofa for you to sleep on, since you’re not expecting an invitation back into his bed any time soon - despite having to admit to yourself that you would probably accept if it was offered.

“Surprise,” you manage to murmur, obviously as shocked as he is for you to be walking through his hotel room door with a pair of suitcases.

He stares for a moment, wondering if he’s having some kind of dream or if he taken ‘shrooms without knowing it. You aren’t supposed to be here, but you are. “Hey.” When he gets over his shock, when he can think again, he’s rushing forward to help you with your stuff. You look as worn out as he feels.

“Hey.” His suite has a full front sitting room and more beyond that, but you don’t have time to think about what else might be waiting for you because he’s ushering you inside as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. Wet hair, worn t-shirt, pajama pants, robe. He must have been getting ready for bed. “Libby arranged a little surprise for you…I, um…I hope this is okay?” You swallow down the fear that he won’t be okay with you being here. Don’t assume. Let him tell you how he feels about it.

“I— yeah.” Dieter nods, wiping his hands on his pajama pants and looks around the room. “I— it’ll make it easier to text.” He jokes.

“Yeah, definitely.” Looking around you, even a little further into the suite, it’s clear that he must have told Libby everything that happened between you, because through the open doors you catch sight of only one bed. “Nora and Steph asked for pictures,” you murmur, defaulting to talking about the two people you both universally enjoy. “So I might tourist a little while you’re working. I—I don’t want to…you know. Be in the way.”

Dieter realizes you are in his room, with your stuff. “I— are you okay staying with me?” He asks, not knowing what she might have said to you about sleeping arrangements. “Or do you want to see about your own room?”

"To be honest?" Honesty is what you agreed on, after all. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch if sharing a bed makes you uncomfortable, but...three weeks in a foreign country where I don't speak the language and don't know why way around? I… I think it might be nice to share space." As soon as it's out of your mouth, you're rolling your eyes at yourself, knowing that it didn't sound as good out loud as it did in your head. "If it starts to bug you that you don't have any privacy, I'll ask for my own room. But it...it might be nice to share?" It would be a comfort to be able to share space with the literal only other person in the country you know. The fact that it's him? Well...you said you wanted to get to know each other, right?

“We don’t have to have sex.” Dieter immediately assures you. “It’s not— I don’t mind sharing a bed with you.” He had slept incredibly well next to you. “It’s a king-sized bed, you won’t even know I’m there.” He jokes, wondering why Libby sprang you on him and didn’t book you a separate room.

You can't help but chuckle, mostly at yourself, and offer him a shrug. "I've never shared a bed with anybody but you and a very cuddly toddler, so if I end up rolling over too close to you in the middle of the night, just push me away."

“I don’t mind that.” He admits quietly. “I’m kinda a cuddler.”

"I guess we'll see what happens." As casual as you can possibly sound, your body's reaction to being able to be in the same bed as him again is definitely louder - the distinct feeling of arousal making you feel much warmer all of a sudden. "Don't let me interrupt whatever you were doing...I can unpack tomorrow if you were headed to sleep."

“No! I, uh, are you hungry? I ordered room service and I can add on to it for you.” Dieter offers.

Nearly groaning, you barely manage to stop yourself from the obscene sound you would have made and nod. "I'm starving," you admit with a laugh. "I was too nervous on the plane to each much."

“Okay.” Dieter nods and walks over to the book with the room service menu. “Pick out what you want, and I’ll add it to your order.”

The room service menu, like the hotel, is incredibly fancy and some of the items are unfamiliar. With as tired as you are, you're not up for a lot of experimenting, and the discovery of a few different kinds of upscale sliders being offered is delightful. After pointing out the item to Dieter and thanking him again, you're ready to just leave your suitcases where they are for now except you have to dig out some pajamas before exhaustion completely takes you over.

"This place is huge." You observe rather uselessly. "Which way is the bathroom? I'm just...just going to put on my pjs. We can eat and hit the hay? I'm guessing you have a lot to do tomorrow."

Dieter nods and points to the doorway through the separate bedroom. “If you want, go ahead and shower and I’ll make sure that I call you when it’s done.”

"Thank you." Snagging your new, Libby-provided backpack with all your toiletries and a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt stashed in the bottom, you instinctively reach to squeeze his hand as you walk by him in the direction he pointed. "I won't take long."

“Okay.” Dieter grins and nods. “I’ll order it right away.” He tells you. “You shower and get the travel grime off you.” He is happily reaching for the phone to order more food as he talks.

******

About twenty minutes later you're clean as a whistle and feeling like you finally don't smell like an airplane anymore. The toiletries provided by the hotel are just as luxurious as everything else, and your feet dig into the plush rug as you pad back out into the main room in your pjs to see Dieter accepting a tray of room service from a young man in the obvious uniform of the hotel's staff. "Looks like I have perfect timing."

“You do.” He snickers and turns around with the trays. “Now we can pig out and sleep for twenty hours.”

"You don't have to work?" You grab the drinks he ordered off the tray to make balancing a little easier for him and follow him through a doorway you hadn't even noticed before - one that opens into an enormous formal dining room with seating for ten. "Holy shit, this is just...part of the room?" Who hosts dinners in a hotel room?

“Yeah.” He laughs and shakes his heads. “Apparently dinner parties are a thing?” He asks. “So if you want to have one, go for it.”

"Who would I even invite?" The two of you pull out chairs and you pop the tops on the San Pellegrino cans that were included on the tray after sitting down beside him. "So, I guess you don't have to bring me home any chocolate," you joke, thinking back to that text he had sent you early this morning.

“I guess not.” He’s not upset about that. “You can do that Lindt tour if you want.” He hums and grins as he unrolls his silverware. “And I have every intention of going to the museum the first chance I get.” He knows you will understand which one, he’s talking about.

"Do you mind if I tag along?" In no way do you expect him to want to spend every free second with you, but there are a few things that you might actually have fun doing together. The Kunstmuseum Basel being one of them.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Dieter hums as he forks up a bite of his food. “Anything you want to do. I’ll give you my schedule and If you want an exploration partner, I’ll go with you.” He hovers the fork next to his mouth. “And you can come to set anytime you want.”

"Really?" The extremely upscale sliders on your plate look amazing, but you find yourself looking at Dieter instead of just digging into your food. "You wouldn't mind me being there?" Somehow you had expected him to be more resistant to the idea of having you infringing on his time in his favourite place, but you're...pretty thrilled that he's so receptive, actually. In a way you never expected to be.

Since he found out that you wanted to spend the day with him after sleeping together, he’s been craving more time with you. This seems like a windfall and he will have to thank Libby, in his own way. “No, unless you don’t want to be there. You don’t have to. I know it’s not exactly interesting to some.”

"No, I want to." Like most people, the most insight you've ever gotten into what goes on, on a movie set are behind the scenes featurettes for movies you've seen. And for the longest time you told yourself that you didn't care. That you didn't want to know. But the fact is...now that you know him a little? You're curious to see what his work is like. "I mean what the hell do I know about being on a movie set, right? It could be fascinating. I'll save days where I want to do stuff you're not interested in for the days when you have the most demanding work, and we can do the stuff we both want to do together."

“That sounds good.” He agrees and takes a bite. “Although after we eat, I’m going to pass out and sleep until I can’t sleep anymore.”

"Definitely." Reminding yourself that you were starving just a second ago, you pick up one of your sliders and dig in, moaning unrestrainedly at the gorgeously flavourful bite - only to laugh at yourself a second later for the shamelessly enthusiastic noise.

Dieter chuckles and shifts in his seat, ignoring the pangs of lust that race through him. “At least you enjoy the food.” He jokes with a wink.

"Shut up," you mumble around another bite, laughing at yourself despite being a little embarrassed. "I'm not dainty, you knew that already."

“Oh I remember.” Dieter huffs and immediately bites his lips to stop himself from saying things that could completely offend you. Instead, he gives a shrug. “I don’t mind that at all.”

"Okay." Two more bites and the first slider is gone, giving you a second to sit back and wipe your hands on a napkin and take a sip of your drink. "I want to know what happened." Since you talked to him about it you've only dredged up a few more flashes of memories from that night - mainly the car ride back to his place from the party - and it was enough to have you excusing yourself to your room to remember in private. "You said you remember everything."

“What do you want to know?” He arches a brow as he takes another bite of his own meal. “How I suffocated myself in your pussy despite you being shy about the trim job?”

"It's not like I ever have anybody to trim it for." The protest is mumbled at best, and you shrug like it doesn't matter even though your cheeks are on fire. "I do remember you like having your hair pulled..."

“Yeah.” Dieter has zero shame in admitting that. He liked it, he liked it a lot. “You liked my reaction to it too.” He reminds you with a playful wink. “And you liked riding.”

“I do like riding…” That, at least, you already knew about yourself, and you grin a little as you take another bite of your food. “I’m almost afraid to ask if anything embarrassing happened, since everything I remember was good.”

“Nothing embarrassing that I think is embarrassing.” He shrugs with a grin. “Just a lot of orgasms and fun.” He reaches for his water and takes a sip, trying to act like he’s not remembering every single second of being inside of you that night.

“Well…good.” What else can you really say to that, except to be relieved that you didn’t fart in his face or something? Talk about mortifying. He’s the first man in a decade to actually see you naked, but that’s probably far too emotional of a fact to be brought up when you’re both jet-lagged and scarfing down your late-night snacks. Instead, you huff a small laugh and shrug, offering him a sheepish smile. “With three weeks and one bed it seems like Libby is banking on a repeat.”

“That might be my fault.” Dieter admits with a wince. He remembers the conversation with Libby. “I didn’t handle you slipping away very well. Told her to let you out of the contract because I wanted nothing to do with it and I wasn’t seeing you again.”

“I should have texted you when I didn’t hear from you.” You can admit when you’re at fault, even if it stings your pride. “This—this whole trip might actually be good for us. There’s no way to avoid each other if something upsets us. We’re kind of…forced to deal with our shit. And we said we wanted to work on our communication anyway.” The second slider is gone with a happy hum and you have to admit that this - just sitting and talking - us kind of nice.

“This might be the first meal we’ve had together without being upset.” Dieter muses. “Quick, throw the salt at me.”

“Maybe I want to set a dangerous precedent,” you grin at him, a little wider than you expected. “Not constantly fighting with my soulmate sounds really nice.”

“Unheard of.” Dieter jokes, throwing your grin back at you, admiring the way that your eyes crinkle slightly when you’re happy. “What else would we do?”

“Not a damn clue.” He looks so much more comfortable - so much more himself - when he’s relaxed and it almost surprises you that the first word that flits across your mind is handsome. He looks so much more handsome when he’s relaxed. “I guess we’ll have to figure it out.”

“I’m sure we will.” Dieter nods and tries to smother a yawn. Now that you are here, he doesn’t want to sleep, but he’s about to pass out. Needing to close his gritty eyes and unplug from the world for some hours.

“You were up early, you should tuck in.” The only reason you know that is because he texted you from the airport, but it still feels nice to have a better sort of handle on what’s going on with him. Not that you have any sort of claim as a partner, but just as a friend. Because really - it would be excruciating to find out that your soulmate wants nothing to do with you, so the least you can be is his friend. “I’m going to have my last few bites and I’ll leave the tray outside the door before I join you?” Yeah…getting into the same bed as him is going to be…well, your heart rate definitely jumped saying it.

“Yeah.” As much as he doesn’t want to turn in, he has to. “I’ll brush my teeth and then let you have the bathroom again.” He offers, standing up and sending you a tired look. “If I’m snoring, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Offering him one more smile as he trudges from the room, you dig your phone out of your pocket and shoot a quick text off to Steph as you hungrily demolish the last few bites of your delicious room service.

To Stephy: Got to the hotel to find out Libby has us sharing a suite. There is only one bed. I am living a fanfic trope. Update you in the morning.

Dieter brushes his teeth and shuffles into the bedroom, wondering what side you want to sleep on. It can be something that you discuss tomorrow. Instead, he just chooses his normal side and climbs in.

It’s only about ten minutes later that you’re crawling into bed, too, feeling self-conscious enough to stay on the edge of the other side of the bed despite freshly brushed teeth and a freshly showered self. Your awkwardness has nothing to do with cleanliness, but everything to do with the fact that you wish, however secretly, that he might actually roll over and get closer to you in the middle of the night. Whatever happens over the next three weeks, it’s sure to be an adventure.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat​ @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri    

YSV: @tortor-mcgee @hnt-escape​ @sammus-white​ @spanishmossmagnolia  @frasmotic @quietpainter

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #Dieter Bravo x female reader #The Bubble #Soulmate AU #enemies to lovers #fake dating #Trash Can Man

[shadyteacup]

This is a day late, but here's a birthday fic I wrote for my favorite man, Dazai♡

Happy Birthday, Love♡

"Good morning!"

A cheery voice echoed in Dazai's ear. He groaned at the noise. It was only 5 in the morning.

"Who?", he managed to grumble into the phone, shifting on his bed to stretch his legs.

"It's me, Dummy. Wake up and get ready. I'm picking you up in 5."

His eyes shot open. Why the fuck were you picking him up at 5.05 am on a fucking Saturday?

"Y/N, it's literally dark out there, "

"Shut up. Be ready!"

With that, you hung up.

Dazai groaned into his pillow, fisting the sheets and preparing himself to get out of bed.

He rolled off the edge, quite literally, and landed on his bum, hissing at the cold that kissed his ass.

He stumbled to get ready, pulling on his favourite hoodie and throwing on some jeans.

In exactly 5 minutes, his doorbell rang.

He huffed, pulling it open, and was about to whine when he took in the sight of you.

There you stood, a bright smile on your face and a bouquet in your arms.

On the flowers a hideously large note read, "Happy Birthday, Osa!"

He blinked, remembering that today was, infact, 19th June. The day he was born.

"Happy birthday, baby!"

You extended your arms, thrusting the flowers in his face. He smiled at you, accepting the flowers and pulling you in.

"Whoa-"

You were cut short by a pair of lips slamming down onto your own.

Dazai had you pinned to his door as he passionately kissed you, pouring all his love and thanks into it. He trailed his hand along your sides, eliciting an excited shiver down your spine. His tongue claimed your mouth as it's own, making you whimper at the intensity of the kiss.

You pushed his shoulders, trying to create some distance between your heaving chests.

"Not... not now!"

You grinned up at your whiny boyfriend.

"But why can't we just tear our clothes off and-"

"No! I'm not celebrating your special day like this."

He pouted, his angelic features almost making you give in. Almost.

"I have something planned for you, love. "

He smirked, leaning forward to kiss along your neck.

"Do you... really... want... to miss out... on this?"

He asked you between kisses. You gulped, pushing him away.

"No! Not now! Maybe later."

He grinned coyly at your flustered state, before yelping at the sudden pull of you grabbing his arm.

You pulled him out of the house, slamming the door behind you, and sprinting down the hall. He stumbled to keep up to you, your entwined fingers pulling him forward.

You reached down stairs to your motorcycle, putting your helmet on and tossing one towards your favorite brunet.

"Come on!"

You ushered him to sit behind you, and once he was seated, you revved you bike to life. You roared through the empty streets of Yokohama. Dazai felt excited, the rush of the wind against his face igniting a flame of exhilaration through his bones.

He hugged your waist, leaning into your warmth as the cool wind nipped at his skin, eliciting shivers.

He watched as the sun rose, it's reddish rays expanding over the land, like how the ocean usurps the sandy beach with every wave. He was left awestruck at how beautiful the city looked. There was so much beauty in this world. He was glad to be able to witness it. Especially glad that he was with you. You were another one of nature's beauties. He adored you so much. He maybe even loved you. But he wouldn't tell you that, for he wasn't sure if the feelings were reciprocated. Nonetheless, being able to spend time with you was a blessing from the heavens. He was going to cherish each every millisecond he got with you.

You maneuvered trough the twist and turns, and took your beloved to a hilltop. The view was splendid from up here. You parked, asking Dazai to get off as you turned the engine off.

"Beautiful..."

You heard him whisper as he looked over the city.

You smiled at his genuine adoration, pulling out a blanket from your bag.

"I know you like nature. I also know that you like food."

He turned towards your voice to see you sitting on a cute blanket that was laid out on the grass. Baskets of food and drinks surrounded you.

"I thought that a picnic is a perfect blend of the two!"

He grinned at your thoughtfulness and joined you.

You both spent quite a while just observing the city. How the darkness was slowly replaced by light. How the once lonely streets were filled with the buzz of humanity. Just Dazai's heart. It was so lonely and dark, then you filled it with light.

As you laid your head on his shoulder, you couldn't help but feel... complete. His warmth, his smell, his touch.. it was all way too familiar to you. You both hadn't even been dating that long, but just the thought of him made you smile. You longed to see him everyday. Hearing his voice made you feel lighthearted. His smile lit up your day. Everything about the man sitting next you made you happy. He was your serotonin boost.

You gulped at the intensity of your feelings. You cared for him, a little too much. It scared you. But you knew he felt the same way.

Everytime he leaned into your touch, subconsciously grasping onto your warmth, you realized that he loved you. He never said it to you, but you could see it in his eyes. You could see it in his tiny actions. The way he would smile the brightest smile ever, when he saw you after a long time, the way his eyes lit up when you laughed on one of his stupid jokes, the way he hugged you a little longer than he used to at the beginning. It all just adds up.

You tilt your head to stare at your love, only to find brown eyes peering down at you.

You blushed at being caught, hiding your face into his neck.

Cute chuckles followed by multiple head-kisses made you look back up at the gorgeous man.

"What are you thinking about?"

He asked, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

"You.", you replied with a smile.

He froze at your reply, a pink hue dusting his cheeks.

"Are you blushing?"

You asked incredulously.

He shook his head a little too quickly to seem convincing, turning away. You grasped his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

Your intense gaze was full of adoration and it made Dazai's face heat up. You were looking at him with such gentleness. He didn't deserve you.

"I love you, Osamu."

He froze. It was a mere whisper, but it was enough to toss his world upside down.

You had finally opened up to him about your true feelings. You felt relieved to finally spill the beans. Your relief didn't last long, though, as your beloved was yet to reply.

You were beginning to worry.

Had you read into it all wrong? Maybe his affinity to your touch was merely a habit. Maybe he wasn't in love with you. Your mind was screaming at you for possibly ruining his special day. You had gone ahead and made it awkward.

"Hey, forget about it. I was not thinking straight, and-"

"I love you, too."

Now you froze. Y/N.exe has stopped working.

"What?"

You sat there, mouth agape. You had expected this, hadn't you? Until a few minutes ago, you had convinced yourself that he loved you back. Yes, you were confused for a second, but now he had told you that he loved you. So, why were you shocked? Why did it feel so good to hear those words from him?

He smiled at your frozen face, leaning forward to kiss you. You melted into his arms, telling him just how much he meant to you through the kiss. You loved how you didn't have to voice out your feelings with him. He simply understood you.

Your fingers threaded through his messy locks, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. He grabbed your waist, lifting you up. You jumped at the opportunity and sat yourself on his lap. His hands took the liberty to express your back, creeping under your shirt to caress your soft skin. His skilled fingers teased their way higher and higher. You pushed him on his back, hovering over him, desperate to take control. He didn't let you break the kiss, pulling you down along with him.

A few moments later, it became hard to breathe, but his taste was intoxicating.

He pulled back first, grinning boyishly at you. Placing his forehead on yours, he licked his lips.

"Can't wait to claim you, tonight."

The meaning behind his words finally hit you, and you smacked his arm.

"Why would you say that?!"

"I'll make you scream your love for me, babe."

He winked.

You heated up, hiding your face in your arms. His chuckles made you want to fling a rock at his dumb head.

He was such a baby. But he was your baby. And as long as he was by your side, you would be content.

Hehe, idk if this was good enough, coz I wrote after a long time... but I love he so much uwu

Tagging!

@anarchy-black-cat @707xn @evalynanne @b-i-t-t-i-e-s @kuraxmasha @syynnaaah  @roserosie05 @mikasa-stan-account @alittlesimp @greenshirtimagines @paradise-creator @kiyokoxd @ranposlover @the-foreigner @sakikoshi@h3xa413a @sukunas-cult-leader @ilOvedaydreaming @del1111 @craftypeachmoneyhound @notquitehereorthere @mikasa-stan-account @kenmasbbygrl @alphaofdarkness @duhsies @cees-sims @the-foreigner @uglapuglamuglafugla @sugarandsoft @jadegreenimmortality @flanelsantito @shiny84244 @one-hell-of-otaku-is-here @missrown @requiem626k @sukunas-cult-leader @ilovedaydreaming @roserosie05 @mikasa-stan

#bungou stray dogs #shadyteacup #shady☕ #bsd #dazai x reader #dazai osamu #bungo stray dogs dazai #bsd x reader #☕ says #kunikida doppo #dazai #dazai bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai fluff #bungou stray dogs imagine #bungou sd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #hanimehub #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bsd anime #bsd imagines #bsd smut #bungo sd #dazai+x+reader

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

Relax - Fred Weasley (smut)

Summary: Fred is very stressed, but you have an idea to help him with that problem ;)

Warnings: 18+ SMUT!!!, oral (male receiving), tittie-fucking, cursing, praising

Words: 1,3k

I opened the door of our apartment with a big sigh. Finally, home.

The joke shop really stressed me out. March was always busy because of the first of April coming closer.

I wasn't really exhausted, it was just stress, worry.

It was a relief when I saw her laying there in our bedroom.

She must have fallen asleep accidentally because she still had her clothes on.

My heartbeat fastened for a second, seeing her laying there. It was a sight for sore eyes. Her hair spread over the pillow and her steady breath. It made me calmer.

Although I really wanted to talk to her, I didn't want to wake her up. So I strolled to the bed on my tippy toes, trying to be as quiet as possible.

I laid beside her, but my weight made the bed crack.

In a second she was already sitting up. "Oh god, did I fall asleep again?" she mumbled worryingly, still very sleepy.

"It's okay love" I assured her.

I made sure her head was on my chest and stroked her hair. She relaxed again. Y/n instinctively pulled her arm around me, pulling me closer. It made my heart flutter.

"How was your day Freddie?" she asked sleepy.

"Not that great, it's so busy, I'm terribly stressed y/n" I sighed.

She sat up, facing me again, her hand rested on my chest and the other hand held her up. She had a worried face.

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that baby, but can't you take a 5 minute break sometimes?" she asked while drawing circles on my chest

"No I have no time for that, but you don't have to worry y/n, it'll get better soon" I promised her, not really knowing if it was a lie or not.

Her hand was under my shirt now, tracing a light path on the skin, from my neck to my belly. The soft strokes made me sigh, I felt my body relax a little.

"But I want to help you" she breathed with furrowed and worried eyebrows.

"I don't think you can really do something about it, dear. But thanks anyway" I smiled at her.

Suddenly she leaned down and placed soft wet kisses on my exposed skin. When she came to my nipple she gently kissed it, making me gasp.

"I think I know something to help you relax Freddie" she said in between the kisses. They lowered closer to the edge of my pants, it made my breath become heavier.

"Y/n you really don't have too-"

Before I could protest any further, she was already opening my pants.

Y/n took them off and now straddled my legs. My cock sprang free, already sensitive.

"I'll help you de-stress Freddie, you can all let it go now okay?" she promised me while massaging my thigh.

She kissed my thigh while softly stroking the other one. That girl really knew my weak spots, she could make me melt in only seconds. She always could, she knew my body like the back of her hand.

Goosebumps formed on my skin. Before I even realized, she placed a kiss on my tip while playing with my nipple, making my head already fall backwards. It just felt so damn good already, this was really what I needed after this day full of stress and she knew that.

She kitten licked my tip and a soft moan escaped my mouth. The tenderness in her touch, her soft fingertips tracing over my whole body and her sexy innocent eyes making constant eye contact. It was already too much. I was going to marry that girl one day, that's for sure.

And then she took as much as she could in her mouth, sucking and twisting her tongue while massaging my balls.

Grunts left my mouth. The sight in front of me was absolutely my favorite one. Or no it is the sight of her while riding me, while her boobs bounced up and down and those filthy moans leaving her mouth when I smack her ass.

The thought of it made me moan. I felt her tongue like silk and her puffy lips so perfectly around my cock. Waves of extreme pleasure went through my whole body

"Baby" I grunted while grabbing her hair. I tried to hold back from trusting into her mouth, making her gag, but I couldn't do it. So I lifted my hips up just a little making her suck and move faster. Moans of her name and whines of pure bliss left my mouth.

She must have felt my cock twitch, because out of the blue, she pulled back. Before that she only sucked on my tip, so I could see her beautiful lips perfectly wrapped around me, but then she let go completely.

"No no, baby please, please go on" I begged. "I really need to get rid of this stress y/n"

"I wanna try something" she replied.

I was astonished when she took her shirt off. Her red lace bra right in front of me, it made me grunt and grab her thigh, stroking it, pulling her closer. My other hand grabbed her ass making her gasp. A little giggle left her mouth and the sound almost made me blush. Gosh, the effect she had on me.

Before I knew, her bra was gone, her beautiful boobs (I loved them so much, no words to explain actually) facing me. She leaned down a little.

"W-what are you doing?" I stuttered confused.

My breath hitched in my throat when the previous pleasure returned. I looked down and saw y/n her titties, wrapped around my length.

"Fuck" I moaned loudly, still surprised.

She moved her boobs up and down, firmly wrapped around me. This was the sexiest thing ever. I just couldn't look away from the sight of her breasts wrapped around me, moving so beautifully. I knew I loved her boobs, but didn't know this could feel so amazing.

Drops of sweat formed on my forehead and heavy breaths left my mouth.

"Your such a good boy Freddie" she moaned, clearly very aroused herself, because of the sight in front of her.

The praise made me crazy, her name left my lips and my eyes scrunched shut when my head fell backwards.

"If you're going to come then look me in the eyes" she ordered.

I looked back up and I met her beautiful, doe and horny y/e/c eyes.

My mouth fell open and she started to move faster, now laying her tong flat on my tip while still using her tits.

Curse words and loud grunts flowed out of my mouth when I finally came, seeing stars.

I still tried to catch my breath and come back to earth when y/n moved back up. She stroked the hears, that were sticking on my forehead. I felt a soft kiss on my temple. The butterflies were all over my body now

"Little less stressed now, love?" she asked softly, almost whispering. She clearly didn't want me to get out of my fully relaxed state.

"Yes, you're amazing y/n, and that thing you did with your boobs, you can surely do that again in the future" I grinned jokingly.

She laid her head back on my bare chest and half of her body was laying on me.

We just laid there for a while. Listening to each others heavy breaths and heartbeats.

I really don't know what I would do without this girl. I pulled her close for another passionate kiss, to show her how much I appreciate her.

When we pulled away I felt myself already drifting away to dreamland. The feeling of her naked chest against mine felt amazing.

I stroked her hair and I heard her breathing change. She was asleep.

This was everything I needed, nothing more.

***

#fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #weasley #fred and george #fred weasly x reader #george x reader #george weasley smut #harry potter smut #weasley family #draco x y/n

[rebelwrites]

A Fathers Love

Chibs Telford x Daughter Reader

He couldn’t believe it, today was the day his little girl got married. Sitting on the sofa he was deep in thought as the make up artist did what she needed to do.

“Da you still with us” you laughed looking at him through the mirror.

“Aye” he nodded pushing himself up to his feet “just thinking”

“You’re worried you are gonna lose me aren’t you” you said arching your eyebrow.

“Well yea kinda” he chuckled softly.

“I might be becoming a Teller today but deep down I will always be a Telford” you smiled slipping your hand into his “and I will always need my Da. That won’t change”

“I just can’t believe you are getting married today” he whispered tears filling his eyes “and who would have thought it would be to Jax”

Soon enough it was time to get your dress on so Chibs left the room to go have a smoke.

It was like the past 26 years flashed before his eyes.

After about half an hour you opened the door, creeping up behind you dad, tapping his shoulder.

His grin was wide and had tears in his eyes when he saw you.

“Lass you look so beautiful” he whispered kissing your cheek. “I am so proud of you, you managed to keep up with the club life whilst becoming an amazing women”

“Da please don’t make me cry” you smiled lighting your smoke.

“Have you got the reaper on your dress?” Chibs smirked

“Of course, got them to make one out of lace so it blends in” you grinned “the club is a big part of my life so it would be wrong not to have it. Also I want to show you something”

Reaching your hand to the neckline of you dress you rolled the top down just enough to show the black thread.

“Filip ‘Chibs’ Telford”

“You got my name stitched into your dress” he whispered.

“Yeah I did. Above my heart, I wouldn’t be who I am today if it wasn’t for you dad. You some how managed to raise me as a single parent whilst dealing with the club. I’d say that’s pretty amazing” you grinned.

“God I’m so emotional today” he laughed wiping his eyes before stepping forward to place a kiss on your forehead “I love you kid”

“I love you to Da”

“Now let’s go get you married” he grinned.

———

The service was beautiful, short and sweet just what both you and Jax wanted. Mainly so you had more time to party.

Chibs had just finished his speach spilling some embarrassing memories of both you and Jax. And it was now time for the father daughter dance.

Resting your head on his chest as his arms wrapped around your shoulders, as you swayed to the music.

“I lost my breath when I saw you take your first. My whole world stopped like that and I ain’t the crying type. I just saw your eyes words just can’t describe what I see. You look just like me, yeah”

“I still remember the first time I held you in my arms, watching your Y/E/C eyes staring up at me” Chibs whispered loud enough for you to hear “I think that was the first time I had ever cried”

“Da, Don’t make me cry you old bastard” you laughed looking up at him.

“You’re gonna think I hung the moon. You’re gonna think I made the sky. That the sun rises and sets inside of my eyes And it won’t be long ‘till I hear “Daddy’s home"”

“God I used to love coming home just to hear your footsteps on the wood floor screaming ‘daddy’s home’ no made what kind of day I had you always made it so much better” he smiled with tears in his eyes.

“It was the best part of my day as well, because it meant eating dinner in front of the TV and cuddles” you giggled.

“I hope I’m still your hero ‘cause I already love you more than even I understand”

“You will always be my hero da, no matter how old I get. You taught me right from wrong, how to shoot a fucking gun, how to ride, everything I know is because of you. I mean you even taught me how to make a body disappear” you laughed.

“Yeah probally wont win dad of the year for that one” he chuckled spinning you around.

“You have in my life” you smiled.

“And one day you’ll realize I’ve lost my cape, I can’t fly. And I’m only human. And you’ll need more than me”

“I will always need my Da by my side. Yes I have Jax now but he can never replace you” you whispered resting your head back on his chest.

The song came to a end and Chibs pulled you into a tight hug. Looking up at him it was obvious he had been crying through the song. Reaching up you wiped his tears away with you thumb.

“I will always love you daddy” you whispered “no matter how old I get, my love for you will never fade”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Jax appear smiling at the two of you.

“Chibs can I dance with my wife now” Jax chuckled placing his hand on the small of your back.

“She’s all your Jackie boy” Chibs nodded before kissing your head.

He took a couple of steps before spinning back around placing his hands on Jax’s shoulders.

“Just promise me one thing Jackie Boy, promise me you will take care of my little girl. Because if you don’t I will kill you” Chibs nodded before smiling at you both and heading to the bar.

-

“Babygirl you need to slow down” Jax chuckled wrapping his arms around you, placing his hand over you stomach “we both know you get clumsy when you rush and we can’t have you hurting peanut”

“But I’m excited” you whined.

“I know you are and I am to but I don’t want you hurting yourself” he whispered kissing your head. “Now slow it down”

“Or what” you giggled.

“Girl don’t, not when we are just about to head out” Jax groaned as you wiggled out of his arms, grabbing the bag that held the secret in.

After a quick drive you pulled into the lot of the clubhouse, gaining a few weird looks to why you was in the car and not on the bikes. Ever since you told Jax you was pregnant any where you both went he refused to take his bike.

“How you are going to keep this in until after dinner I have no idea” Jax laughed as he watched you bounce on the balls of your feet waiting for him. “Come on then you dork let’s go tell Chibs the good news”

Waking into the clubhouse, you had a grin plastered on your face.

“Dadddddy” you giggled

“Oh fuck” Chibs laughed engulfing you in his arms “this sounds fuckin’ expensive”

“I got you a present” you grinned.

“Since when did you by me stuff” he questioned taking the bag off you and sitting at the table.

“Just shut up and open it” you beamed leaning into Jax’s side, watching his reaction.

As Chibs pulled the small box out of the bag, he looked up at you arching his eyebrow. “Choose wisely? Something best not jump out at me” he chuckled slowly lifting the lid off the box. As he pulled each name card out he read it out loud.

“Papa, grandad, Pa, granda, gramps” he trailed off, eyes becoming wide, tears running down his cheeks and a wide grin on his face. “Princess, what is this?” He asked already working the answer out.

“I’m pregnant Da” you grinned.

“I’m gonna be a papa” he sobbed running his hand over his face before hugging you.

“I guess we know what name he picked” Jax laughed “Papa Chibs”

“I can’t believe my baby is having a baby” he sniffles wiping his eyes, placing his hand on your stomach.

— — —

You was now 6 months pregnant, and let’s just say protective was an understatement, not only did you have an over protective husband, who if it was up to him you’d be on bed rest wrapped in bubble wrap but your dad was just as bad if not worse. You had a prospect with you every minute of the day when Jax or your dad wasn’t with you. It amazes you that you even got to piss in peace.

“You are meant to do what we tell you yes?” You snapped as you paced the floor of the club.

“Yeah” the prospect mumbled.

“They why haven’t you got me my ice cream” you huffed.

“Kiddo your gonna wear a hole in the floor” dad laughed as he kissed your head “What’s up?”

“Dickhead won’t get me ice cream” you pouted. “And peanut really wants ice cream”

“Well it’s a good job I’m the best Da in the world and stopped by the shop on the way home then” he grinned pulling a tub of bubblegum ice cream out of the plastic bag.

Tearing the lid off, you dug your finger into the cold goodness, scooping some into your mouth. “I fucking love you” you mumbled with a mouth full of ice cream.

“I love you to kiddo” dad chuckled.

— — —

You was now 5 days overdue and wasn’t allowed to even leave the house, thanks to the prospects being on strict orders from Jax and Chibs.

You knew the guys had a busy day so prayed that the baby didn’t decide today was the day they wanted to make an appearance.

But it seemed like your prayers fell on deaf ears as you started to get twinges in your stomach, and soon enough your waters broke all over the kitchen floor.

“I don’t care what they are doing, you need to get Jax and my Da here now” you snapped “and we need to go to the hospital”

The guys had just got back from a quick run when Chibs got the text to say you had gone into labour.

Standing up from the table he took two steps before screaming.

“JAAAAAAAAAAX!!!”

Within seconds he skidded into the room.

“Yeah” he breathed.

“We gotta go boy, baby Teller is making an appearance” he grinned as he pretty much ran out to his bike.

Neither of them cared about following the speed limit they just needed to get to the hospital as fast as possible. Soon enough they had arrived and Jax stumbled into the room making you laugh at his dorkiness.

“I’m here baby” he whispered instantly coming to your side.

Seconds turned into minutes which turned into hours and baby Teller was being stubborn.

“I want my Da” you cried pushing through another contraction. Jax left your side for a couple of seconds to poke his head out the door to call Chibs in.

“Daddy I’m scared” you cried as another contraction hit. All your emotions were running high and Chibs knew that even though you was excited for this baby you was scared you was going to be a bad mother.

“Princess there’s no need to be scared” Chibs whispered kissing your head. “You have Jax, you have me and the club. You aren’t going to have to do this on your own. Now come on just breath, I want to meet my grandchild”

A couple more hours had passed and you was exhausted, but all that was forgotten when the tiny human was placed in your arms. His tiny blue eyes, which were identical to his father’s, staring up at you, watching every movement.

“He looks like you” you whispered leaning your head against Jax’s shoulder.

“Unlucky bastard” Dad laughed.

“You did great baby” Jax whispered kissing your head “he’s perfect”

“So have we got a name or did you give up and the poor lad is gonna be called peanut for the rest of his life” dad smirked walking over to Jax and pulling him into a hug, tears in both of their eyes, placing his hand on the back of Jax’s head he spoke softly “welcome to fatherhood son. Beannachd Dia dhuit”

“Papa Chibs” you grinned at you dad as you passed him your son “meet your first grandson, Jackson JR Filip Teller”

“Princess” he sniffed looking down at his grandson “I’m honoured to share my name with this little one”

#chibs telford #chibs telford x reader #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader

[hepalienstuckyrecs]

Hidden Gems Stucky Fic Rec

Amazing fics with <10k hits

raise the flag by mcwho [M, 1k]

Slice of Life, PWP

Steve had made the mistake of laying on the sofa lengthways, on his stomach, so of course as soon as Bucky walked into the room he was all over that

Heart by @concavepatterns, everandthe [T, 1k]

Fluff, Love Confession, Post CATWS

"You're not my friend, Steve."

softer than whispers by @spacebuck [E, 1.4k]

Fluff, PWP, Table Sex, Rimming

"concept: steve fucking bucky in knee socks bc thighs and long sweaters"

Concept: The sweater hangs down nearly to Bucky’s knees as he walks past the couch Steve’s sprawled on, the hem swaying a little with each step. Steve doesn’t recognise it, realises Bucky must have gone out of his way to get something too big for him, and smiles just a little to himself. Bucky’s oblivious to his presence in the way a content cat is. Steve’s his, so he belongs.

i want it, i got it by bornes [T, 1.5k]

Fluff, Humor

Ten minutes into their impromptu mall adventure, Steve has offered to buy Bucky a designer sofa he had sat on briefly to rest his legs, a $600 headband, and a diamond-encrusted butterfly clip

more under the cut

no grave can hold my body down by @biblionerd07 [G, 1.9k]

Bucky Feels

Bucky has died more than once, but he never stays that way. Companion to let me give you my life.

Not the Needle, Nor the Thread by @steebadore [E, 2k]

Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex

Bucky wakes to a noise.

No, Bucky wakes to the noise. It's not the hoarse shout of nightmares born of battlefields and blood that so often tear them both from sleep. No, this is smaller. Bitten off. Choked back. A furtive, strangled keen, nearly silent but pitched at a frequency that would raise Bucky from the dead.

in the morning i’ll be sober and you’ll still be mine by mcwho [T, 2.2k]

Drunken Confessions, Kissing, Light Angst, Team fic

Steve always marveled at how people lost all their inhibitions after they got a little alcohol in them.

And then Thor gets him drunk on Asgardian liquor. Events unfold.

tutorial by @belovedmuerto [T, 2.4k]

Modern AU, High School AU, Practice Kissing, Fluff

“I’m pretty sure I’m a terrible kisser,” Steve mutters, mostly to his pencil and paper.

black eyes, bandages and bloody knuckles by @concavepatterns [M, 2.7k]

5+1 Things, Post CATWS, Prewar Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort

Five times Bucky says “Jesus, Rogers” out of pure exasperation, and one time he means it in a completely different context.

Gorecki by @ataraxetta [M, 3k]

Hurt/Comfort, Soft, Post CATWS

Steve has a crummy mission. Bucky has a crummy dream. They cuddle it out.

hold some dirt with those hands by magdaliny [T, 3k]

Post-IW, Fix-it

It had sent him to his knees.

I Had a Marvelous Time Ruining Everything by fallendarlings (@pressrestartwrites) [T, 3.2k]

War Era, CATFA, POV Steve, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Light Angst

“I’m not worth all that. Not worth your life.”

“You’re worth everything to me.” And there it is, the secret truth. There’s no way to interpret it as anything but what it is. Steve’s heart, held out in his hands. The one that didn’t work right, ugly all over from damage. The one that was Bucky’s first, has always been Bucky’s. They say his new one is perfect, but he knows the truth. Even if they fixed everything else, they can’t fix this. Every inch of his heart, scarred with Bucky’s name. Over and over and over.

(Not Quite) All The Small Things by @leveragehunters [T, 4.1k]

Prewar, Post CATWS, Magical Realism AU, Fluff, Bucky POV

Bucky was used to finding Steve in alleys. Not every day, thank baby Jesus and all the saints or he’d be as grey as Mrs Milligicutty, but often enough.

The thing about Steve in alleys was, it meant finding Steve in fights. Or finding Steve after fights, bloody and bruised, picking gravel and dirt out of his skin, having come off third best in a two-person punch-up. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes, it meant finding Steve standing, bruised but unbowed, glaring down some hapless meathead who’d underestimated just how much sheer goddamned never-say-die was packed onto those skinny bones.

That was Steve in alleys. Not this hunched over sack of glare, facing down a mangy orange tom cat that was glaring right back and trying to dart past his legs.

My Kind’s Your Kind by @callmejude [M, 4.1k]

Prewar, Practice Kissing, Smut with Feelings

Steve's beginning to get self-conscious of the fact that he's never been kissed.

let me give you my life by @biblionerd07 [T, 4.3k]

5+1 Things

Five times Steve chose to live when he could have died. Companion to no grave can hold my body down.

To Seek a Nood-er World by jehans (@lafbaguette) [E, 8.2k]

Misunderstandings, Humor, Sexting, Canon Verse, First Time, Idiots in Love

Send noodz

Steve has been staring at his phone for the last six minutes, eyes narrowed so much they’re almost closed at this point, trying to figure out what the hell Bucky means. Noodz? What the fuck are noodz?

Listen, Steve is at least marginally aware of modern pop culture. He’s heard of nudes — not that nudes are exactly a modern invention; artists have been creating them for millennia — and he does know that people tend to misspell words to be cute or funny. They did that when he was young, too. Because time is a flat circle, apparently.

But, wait—does that mean…?

No. Not possible. Bucky isn’t asking Steve to send him…nudes.

Right?

TBC (taking care of bucky) series by @steebadore [T, 8.6k]

Domestic, Fluff

It starts, as most things do, with spite. The problem is, it doesn't end there.

Glad to love you, Steve Rogers series by @maddiewritesstucky [E, 9.2k]

Modern AU, Stripper Bucky

Steve’s first thought is that he knows this song.

His second thought is little more than a stream of expletives, as the male embodiment of Fuck Me walks out onto the stage. Although, ‘walk’ seems an entirely inappropriate word…the man struts, stalks, and all at once the frenzied reaction of the crowd makes perfect sense.

If Steve had known this was about to make an entrance, he’d have been screaming for it too.

_____

In which Steve Rogers is promised a night of highly-skilled dance performance, and gets exactly that...just not in the way he expected.

Strange Human Mating Rituals by @liionne, art by velvetjinx [E, 13.7k]

Post CACW, Canon Divergent, Bucky Recovery, Sexting, Fluff

Bucky doesn't have a job. Steve assures Bucky that there's no pressure for him to do anything; Steve's army back pay and his avenging days mean they're taken care of. Bucky's a kept man, and whilst he loves that, he isn't much of a house husband. So he goes out, and that's how it happens. He's sitting on the subway when he sees the magazine, garishly pink with a woman flashing big pearly white teeth on the front cover. He can't help himself. Letting himself do things he wants to do is one of the things the Wakandan healers had taught him, so maybe it's a step in the right direction.

The magazine turns out to be a little less factual than Bucky’s usual reading material, but he loves it. He reads an interview with some actress he's never seen before, then an article on how to get the perfect brows (and he looks up at his reflection in the subway window then to find that his brows are-- what does the magazine say? on fleek already), and then he gets to something interesting.

Sexting 101: What your man really wants to hear

Now that is something Bucky wants to know more about.

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #stevebucky #stevebucky fic rec #reclist #hidden gems #changed the title because this seems more fitting

[xpeachesncream]

restart | eleven

↱ SEQUEL TO PERFECTLY WRONG  |  series masterlist ↰

summary: as you and taehyung start to build your life together post graduation, things become more complicated than what you expected it to be. while taehyung struggles with his inner demons, you’ve become the sole supporter, the pillar, juggling different jobs to keep you two afloat. your love for each other has been put to the test as your relationship continues to face hurdles - hurdles that have you questioning whether or not your relationship will make it through.

pairing: reader x fiancé!kth

genre: post grad au, established relationship au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.3k

warnings: cussing/mature language, angst, thoughts on overdrive, anxiety

notes: um, there’s about 3 chapters left ☹️ i won’t be taking drabble requests right away just to give myself a little break and work on bands for a bit, BUT-- i think i might be working on something else in the meantime? i’ll let you guys know lol ily a milli 💗

tags: @enchantaeduniverse​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @jeontier​ @jwlmnbt​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ra-mun-e @brightcolorsoffendme​ @jungcrookthecookbook​ @sunniejinnie​ @littlewolfieposts​ @vanntaesworld​ @thebeebi​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Look, I—"

"No, Aiko. You know damn well I deserve to hear this from you too no matter what the outcome was. It takes two to tango." You step a little closer to her as you feel your bottom lip trembling. Just looking at her makes your stomach drop. You remember all the times that you felt insecure, and truly inferior especially after those nudes she used to send.

Fuck, Taehyung.

Maybe she was just always going to be a weakness for Tae, and that was it.

God, you want to hurl. But you keep yourself composed because it's here now. There's really no turning back.

"Hey." Jin gently squeezes your wrist and gives you a reassuring look. "It's okay." He mouths out.

"Do you have to be here while we do this?" Aiko shoots Jin a look.

"Of course I do. I'm not leaving her side. Why are you suddenly so shy when you've been sharing your nudes with everyone, let alone men in relationships?" Jin snaps back with that glare of his. But this didn't surprise you, Jin was always direct. He would never shy away from telling you like it is. All Aiko can do is roll her eyes at him before letting out a small sigh and bringing her attention back to you.

"Can we just cut to the chase here? I'm not exactly here to be friends." You say as calmly as possible. "Why did Taehyung come to see you?" Which, you curse yourself under your breath once you ask the question because why the fuck else would he come and see her? You were just too busy trying to sway away from the truth.

"He just asked to come see me. For specifics, I'm sure you and I both know what the intention was behind it." You feel sick, but you swallow the lump in your throat and slowly nod your head.

"So, um—"

"No, he didn't Y/N." She cuts you off and looks at you, her facial expression softening. "He didn't do it."

"W-what?"

"He came here and left. Said this was a mistake and that he would never do this to you." Jin's grip tightens around your wrist for whatever reason, you can't really decipher the signal right now. You honestly had a hard time believing her at the moment, and it has even gotten to the point where you think they've both created this story to tell you. However, when you look at her, her body language isn't defensive, nor does she seem like she's hiding anything. There's a small frown creeping up at the corners of her lips as she watches you.

She watches how you fiddle with your fingers, and how you always seem to swallow the lump in your throat every 5 seconds, slyly looking up to prevent the tears from coming down.

"O-oh."

"Look, I'm really sorry for having caused any trouble and I know I'm probably still not going to be on your favorites list for the way I acted with Jin—" She quickly looks at him. "And with Taehyung. But, if there's really one thing that I help with right now, I can tell you that he truly does love you." She tightens the way her arms are crossed close to her chest as she lets out another shaky sigh. "I know it's terrible that the thought was there for the both of us, but he would never do anything to hurt you. He can't. You mean too much to him, Y/N."

"I— don't really know what to say."

"He's set on you. There's no changing that for him." She says, and you can catch the hurt in her voice. The way her tone dips a little when she tells you there's no changing that for him. She still had feelings for him, and this shouldn't be anything new to you.

"Thanks." Aiko does nothing besides purse her lips into a tight line.

"Yup." You look at Jin, and he simply nods at Aiko before he's slightly pushing you to walk away from the door and down the stairs. But, before you could fully get yourself down a step, Aiko calls out for you both. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"He's lucky to have someone like you. I hope he learns from whatever he's going through." You take one last look at her before you silently head down the steps with Jin and situate yourself in his passenger seat.

"So, what now?" Jin asks as he drives off.

"I honestly don't know." The scene of him begging you not to go replays in your head and your heart shatters all over again. You don't know if you're upset with yourself or if you're still upset with him. Actually - yes, you still were upset with him because he had the fucking nerve. The fucking thought. You couldn't get over that. But part of you felt relieved knowing he didn't move forward with it? Or, that he was fucking smart enough at the very least to fix himself the very last minute.

"You can't avoid him forever."

"No, I know that. I just don't know what to say to him." You turn to Jin. "Is it really bad for me to want him to make this work? I don't wanna be the one that goes to him first, not after all of this. I'm tired. I just want to believe that he still wants me the same way he did before."

"I'm sure he hasn't changed."

"Jin, the thought still crossed his mind."

"I know and it's not okay whatsoever but I do have to give it to him for realizing it before."

"I don't know. I guess, yeah." You look down at your lap. "What if he just doesn't fix this? I'm scared of being upped and left again." The sudden thought of your ex popping up, along with all the nights you cried yourself to sleep - waking up with a pounding headache and dry eyes.

"He's not going to." Jin says reassuringly. "I really do believe he'll get this right, but just like you needed time, he does too. I know you had a hard time and a lot of things hurt you, but Taehyung had his own demons to battle and that's never easy. He's trying."

"Yeah." Is all you respond with.

"Do you need more clothes?"

"No, I don't think so. If anything I'll just ask one of the boys to grab me something."

"Okay." Jin continues to drive off and back to his apartment. You keep your gaze outside of the window until your phone vibrates in your lap.

[taehyung♡] 6:05pm: can we talk tonight? i know you might not be ready, but i honestly don't want to put this off any longer. i need to see you.

Your breathing hitches and Jin can feel that something has suddenly changed in your mood. You stare at your phone, unsure if you want to cry or if you're relieved to see Taehyung pop up on your screen. You wanna cry cause of course it still hurts to know the thought crossed his head; you'll never forget that for a second, Taehyung thought about risking everything you've built together just to feel wanted, needed, whatever the hell it was. For a second, he pushed you aside because he was ready to let Aiko back in.

But then you also are relieved because fuck, even if it hasn't been long, part of you felt like he was truly going to give up. That he wasn't going to try anymore. That he didn't think this was worth fixing. That you and him just weren't meant to be together. After all this, of course you still loved him. You loved him deeply - so, so deep, that thought of you without him is probably what hurts the most. He meant everything to you.

"What is it?"

"He wants to talk tonight."

"I'm telling you, you can't avoid him forever."

"Should I do it?"

"Are you ready to? Just because I say you can't avoid him forever doesn't mean you have to talk to him right at this moment, especially if you aren't ready." You look at Jin.

"This is so fucked up, because after everything, I still miss him. And I want to see him. I just don't know what I'd say though."

"Why don't you be honest about everything, yeah? How it made you feel, you confronting Aiko. Let him know that if this does work out, he'll really need to learn from it and understand how hurt you were."

"I know."

"So are you going to see him?"

"Yeah, I think so." Your hands became clammy as you picked up your phone and responded.

[y/n] 6:11pm: yeah, sure.

[taehyung♡] 6:13pm: is it okay if i pick you up from jin hyung's?

[y/n] 6:15pm: yeah, that's fine.

[taehyung♡] 6:16pm: be there in about 15 minutes.

As soon as you put your phone down, Jin is turning into his parking garage and parking into his assigned spot. You quietly walk up the steps, feeling the anxiety settle in. How was this night going to go? Were you going to have to move your stuff out permanently? Move in with Jin or Jungkook until you could figure things out? You already felt terrible enough having spent these past nights in Jin's bed while he slept out on the couch. He insisted he was fine with it, but still.

What if Taehyung really just wanted to talk to tell you that this was done?

Fuck.

Your anxiety is bubbling in your stomach as the minutes go by, 15 minutes seemingly coming a lot slower than it usually does on any other given day. But, it eventually comes and it comes by Taehyung texting you that he's downstairs. You zip up your jacket, fixing up your appearance just a teeny bit because this was still Taehyung. Jin is eating dinner as he waves you off, setting your bowl aside on the kitchen counter for you to eat later when you get back [if you're hungry].

You feel your pulse on your neck, and your ears are slightly ringing because of how nervous you are. You catch a glimpse of him through the lobby doors and you instantly feel weak, and you fucking hated that effect he had on you. He looks at you as you near the passenger door, slipping yourself in without making much eye contact.

"Hey." He says softly as he drives off.

"Hey."

"You eat already?"

"Nope, haven't been too hungry." His heart sinks at the statement.

"Let me know if you want me to stop by anywhere afterwards to get you some food."

"I'll be fine, thanks." You say, keeping your eyes on the passing view outside of the passenger window. The ride is awfully quiet, nothing but the thoughts in your head making noise. You realize he's taking you down towards the nearby beach, parking his car in front of the ocean view. When he shifts the gear to park and shuts off his lights, he slightly sinks in his seat and lets out a sigh.

"Y/N." He says, breaking the silence. You slightly turn your head towards him, eyeing him every now and then through your peripherals. "I'm sorry." He says, close to a whisper as his head drops and he begins to cry.

"Do you even know what you're sorry for, Taehyung?" You ask, your voice cracking when you look at him to see how torn up he is.

"Baby, of course I do." He looks at you through his teary eyes. "I'm so sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for ever making you question your worth, I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble and pain while all you've done was be there for me. I'm just.. sorry for not being there when I should have been. I should have never let you go through this alone."

"You have no idea how it's been all this time. I was your fiancé, Taehyung. I was trying to be there for you through everything you were feeling, experiencing, whatever it was. I tried. And all you did was push me aside and you still ended up pointing your fingers at me. Almost cheating on me, even? The thing that feels so unforgivable and so painful is the fact that for a second, you really believed risking everything we've built together was worth it."

"I know and I fucked up. That was on me, 100%. I let everything get to the best of me and I was too dumb to see it right away. I fully acknowledge it and I never want to make you feel that way again. I miss you so much. You being away has been so difficult because I feel empty without you. It's been hard to be without you because I never pictured myself to be without you. I still can't."

"We were planning to get married, Tae." You begin to softly cry. "This isn't something you do when you get married to someone and build that life together with them. You can't—" You wipe your tears with a quick pause. "You can't just run off expecting things to be okay after they get brushed under the rug. How are we supposed to have a family together, grow old together, if we can't even fix these kinds of issues together?"

"Baby, I'm ready to do this with you. It's been a hell of a ride and I'm learning as I go. I know I haven't been perfect, or the best fiancé, but know I'm learning from this because I want to be the best for you and give you the world like you rightfully deserve. I'm so, so sorry, my love." He responds, wiping his tears in between before reaching for your hand and grabbing it. He brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against it, causing your heart to flutter. "I love you so much, I'm not giving up on us. I want to do better and you help me be a better man every day that we're together."

"I just want you to understand how much of a toll this took on me and our relationship. You really hurt me, and all I hope is that you do learn from this and become better from it. I love you so much, but I can't always save you. I can be there for you, but sometimes you have to help yourself and I don't know what I'll do if I have to go through this again."

"I know. And I said I wanted to do better, I'm gonna do this for us. I don't want to do this with anyone else. I'm ready to do this ride with you." You don't really have anything else to say, because you feel like you've made your point time and time again. Now, you just didn't know if you'd take this leap of faith again and trust him, or if you should let it be. You simply lean over to wipe his tears, but he keeps your palm against his cheek, pressing a kiss against it as he leans into your touch. "I'm in love with you, Y/N. More than you'll ever know." You sit back into your seat and give him a tiny smile before letting out a breath. You were nervous for what you were about to say, but you needed to say it. You just needed to be honest. This is what this time was about.

"I went to see Aiko earlier." His eyes shoot right at yours, but he doesn't say anything. "She told me you didn't do anything and that you left." You slightly nodded. "It's gonna be hard for me to let that go. But I hope you understand that I want to be the person you go to if things get rough, no one else. I want you to confide in me and tell me what you need so I can better provide. I don't want my man to be running off to someone else because they feel like they can't get a certain feeling or emotion reciprocated, especially without discussing the issue."

"I know, love. I know. I understand and hear you. I'm going to show you that you're the only one that matters to me, and I'll never make you doubt yourself ever again." You sigh and nod. He leans over to kiss you on the forehead, but retreats back to his seat without kissing you anywhere else because he still felt the need to give you space. The kiss sent shivers down your spine though, and it only really solidified the fact that he was the only one you still wanted. "I—um, talked with my parents."

"You did?" You ask softly. For some reason, this was something you weren't expecting to hear. You truly and honestly didn't think Tae was ever gonna try to mend his relationship with his parents, but this showed you that he wanted to try - with you and with them. Hopefully, at least.

"Yeah. I stayed there for a bit." He slightly smiles. "I'm gonna start working with my dad next week. We've been trying to do a lot to mend our relationship and spend more time together."

"I'm happy to hear that, Tae. I really am."

"Thank you for always pushing me to do better with them. There's a lot on their side that I had yet to better understand and vice versa."

"Of course." You say softly as you look at him. He was still the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on, even under the moonlight.

"Do you wanna head back to Jin hyung's now?"

"Sure. I think I've said what I needed to say."

"Come home, please." He says softly as he begins to drive off. "I want to work on mending us, and our relationship."

"I—I don't know. I want this, I do. But I think I just need time to process this? I don't really know. I have to be honest, I'm scared."

"That's okay, I understand. You have every right to feel that way, but I'll show you that you don't have to be. You know you're always welcome to come back whenever you're ready though, baby." But fuck, everything about this makes you so weak. You really did want to go back home and work on this. You just wanted to be with him. You were just scared. There's really no other way to put it. Scared of getting hurt, scared of falling into another trap.

The rest of the ride is quiet again, but it's obvious that the both of you feel a little better getting things off of your chest and talking things out. It didn't mean that everything was fixed though, but you could at least say you both were on the same page of working this out and fixing your relationship. And even though you weren't going home with him that minute, Taehyung can't help but feel hopeful that this will work out in the end. He wanted to do right by you, and he was going to. He was going to fix this, marry you, have a family with you, grow old with you - he was gonna do whatever it took to get you both back on track.

When you unbuckle your seatbelt, you turn to face Taehyung. He simply gives you a tiny, toothless smile before cupping your cheeks and kissing your forehead, then nose.

"I love you, babygirl." He kisses your nose once more, thumb lightly caressing your cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too." You respond before quickly hopping out to prevent yourself from crying even more. You don't turn back and simply head into the elevators up to Jin's floor, straggling tears able to leave your eyes and lightly stain your cheeks.

"How was it?"

"Good, I think."

"What's the plan moving forward?" Jin asks as he leans onto the kitchen counter, watching you wipe your tears and nose.

"I think I'm gonna go home."

even when i'm on my own, i'm never alone and the silence sounds so loud, i'm feeling bound by the words i can't get out

track six: me and my mind - jazz morley

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