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#WHAT A SWITCH LMAOOOO

agentmarcuspike · 8 months

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kept waking up at like 4 and 5am to write down plot points and sentences for the most self indulgent, not to mention self insert, fic ever. it’s sad, it’s angst, it’s love all around, it’s our boyfriend Marcus of course

#idek if I’ll write it tbh but #literally writing a situation I was in but switching out my ex with Marcus and having him do what I needed lmaoooo #anyway……… that’s what fanfiction is for imo. Therapy #writingroom

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the-warmesthello · 1 year

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barb

putting a tw at the beginning of this because i probably should. tw for religious trauma (including some mormon terminology), mention of fungi, homophobia (including derogatory use of the word queer), dysfunctional parenting, grief/mourning, alcoholism, bad mental health times all round, some tough parts of the therapeutic process

really i didn't expect this to get heavy part way through so if you want to skip the worst bit (aftermath of the banana incident), it's most of the next rb. :)

(btw i am nevermo, correct me if i got something wrong)

born on the 21st of december, 1934 in provo, utah

was raised in the latter day saints

had a keen interest in chemistry from the time she could express it, but because sciences were discouraged for the girls in her family, learned mostly about the science in domestic work

amazing baker, had the exact ratios for each ingredient memorised by the time she started school

became fascinated by fermentation and saw the scoby and starters as her pets, watching them make bubbles for hours on end

learned the old burning-things-with-a-magnifying-glass trick, but only used it for leaves because the ants didn't deserve that

one time when she was 6, she made chloroform out of cleaning chemicals, put it in a glass bottle, and smashed it in front of her bullies to see what would happen

(she got in trouble for that)

(worth it)

just before school started, her parents noticed that she would always hold books very close to her face, amongst other things, and when they took her to the doctor she became the proud owner of some incredibly nifty glasses, if she did say so herself

only had one friend in school, alma merrill, who she thought was kind and funny and beautiful and...

just the greatest

even though she didn't understand what barb meant when she talked about exothermic reactions, she'd still sit there and nod along, and she had so many exciting things to say in return even though it wasn't what barb usually liked

when she grew up, she wanted her husband to be just like alma

when they were 13, alma was told to stay away from her because she was 'queer, and not only in the loony way' (neither barb nor alma could figure out what that meant)

after that, she focused most of her time on her studies, which her parents were now suddenly encouraging of

("at least it'll keep her away from sin," she heard her parents whisper when they thought she wasn't there)

graduated high school at 15, youngest ever at her school

brigham young university wouldn't let her in until she was 16, so she took a gap year

she was told to stay on the property except for church, but as long as she did her chores and continued to learn household management, she was allowed to do whatever she wanted

she took this opportunity to study mechanical engineering, watching her father teach her brothers how to fix the mower then reading about engine torque

she knew that her ideas on how to make it go faster wouldn't be listened to, so she told her younger brother, isaiah, what to say and let him take the credit

he needed the praise, but it still hurt

but it was overshadowed by how good it felt to be right when her idea worked

at university, she was a bit too young to participate in the whole courtship thing that made up the backbone of social life there

she couldn't understand why her peers would choose to do all that for just some guy, but maybe she just wasn't old enough yet

graduated an accelerated course, a bs in applied physics with a minor in biochemistry, in 1954 at 19 years old

immediately applied for work in the military for the travel benefits

worked her way up very quickly since the need for chemical and nuclear weapons was increasing and they needed an innovative mind

at first it was weird, the way things were so different outside the church, but eventually she came around to the office culture of relaxed chatting over coffee while on break

and huh, come to think of it, the people she met were all different, and most of them seemed like pretty decent people to her

there wasn't an exact moment that cracked her belief, more just an increasing awareness of her own cognitive dissonance

and when she was invited to come back to provo for her endowment, she didn't respond

in late 1955, she got an offer from the a.s.s. to join their equipment development program for field agents where she would get full reign over what she did, and how could she say no to that?

and, ok, so there's this one guy, right? he's a field agent, his name is curt, and he's infuriating, but very conventionally attractive, and you know, theoretically, it wouldn't be awful to date him

is this what a crush is?

she thinks this is probably what a crush is

it takes a lot of work to feel this way, but she's pretty sure that she could be, no, is attracted to him

and she gets to be the one to supervise him on missions!!

but the issue is that curt has this friend and they're always together

if she wants to date this guy, she has to find some alone time, so she has to get rid of the friend

however... this guy, curt's friend, he's shockingly competent at his job, and he stops curt from dying constantly

plus, he's nice to barb, even if it's in that weird stiff british way all the mi6 guys seem to be

and one day, when she's briefing them on a tool neither of them have ever used before (of course they haven't, barb invented it herself), this friend, who's been staring behind her the entire time, says 'why don't you make the handle smaller? that way it's not as bulky and makes it easier to press the buttons on the right in a combat situation'

and oh.

the answer was that simple.

from then on, he stops being known as 'curt's friend (british)' and starts being 'owen (my best friend)'

they become each others' sounding boards, each of them dumping all their ideas out and talking through it with each other

barb knows how all the technical stuff for how her inventions work, but owen is detached enough to not overthink it and just state the obvious that she forgot

owen is continually formulating arguments and debates; why he should get a raise, why his partner (who barb still hasn't met yet, she hopes she'll get to meet her some day) should consider his point of view in conversation before going off on a tangent about something that wasn't even what he suggested, why whatever politics going on in england actually does affect his siblings, etc.

picking apart his arguments and playing the devil's advocate is one of barb's favourite things

curt is an unwilling participant in this little club of theirs, and often provides what she assumes he thinks is comedic relief

and for the first time, barb is content with how things are going for her

#yeah i did switch the tenses around to show how connected to that part of her life she was #thank u for not noticing like i did until after when i realised that's what i did #sorry about heavenly father-dropping i usually censor g.d but i know barb wouldnt so #also lmaoooo i wrote enough that the typing started lagging #update on the lag: tumblr forced me to make this in multiple sections so the rest of this will be ready when its ready #oof this took almost 6 months and im finally done now #barb #headcanons #im right #spies are forever #tin can bros #barb larvernor

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butwhatifidothis · 2 years

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R u playing 3 hopes ? If you do r u going to post ur thoughts 👀👀 bc im not touching this after what they did to Claude so im just going to live vicariously through the people blogging it and watch the playthroughs haha 🥲

I still am! Tho I'll probably be playing SB first and play AG with my sis, leave GW for last now that I know it'll likely be the worst one (if I even actually play it myself lol, might just watch a playthrough or read other's commentary on it) so you might have to find someone else for GW specifically lol. @travelling-on-the-octopath is gonna be blogging their playthrough of GW so there's someone you can check out!

#ask #anon #I mean theoretically I could switch the language to Japanese so I don't completely know what's going on while playing it lmaoooo #cuz goddammit Claude's playstyle was probably my favorite of what I've played but suffering through All Of That is prob not worth it lol #though if sources are to be believed I might just start calling 3Hopes!Claude Claudelgard lmao cuz wow

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stuckinakillingjar · 2 years

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dude my wattpad era was literally so fucking funny oh my god i'm going through my old posts rn and in one post it's me liveblogging fucking gotham or something, the next one is me going "i hate my life and everything about me is awful" then i'm mcrposting and the next one is me having a mental breakdown 💀

#nothing really changed lmaoooo #i literally just switched from wattpad to tumblr because that site became unusable #but the stuff that i post on here is just more anime flavored than what i used to post on wattpad but it's like basically the same style #like do you get what i mean #well and there's reblogs now lol #and less mutuals that i talk to #nica.talks #wattpad

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inkykeiji · 2 years

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I also pronounce it kay-go? from my understanding of japanese ke is pronounced keh, so I guess I say more keh-go than anything?? but my japanese skills are elementary at best and I am also hopelessly canadian hahaha

how do u pronounce kei? to me it's kay too lol

nah dw anon it’s completely an error on my part!!! as i said to the anon before you, i swapped my pronunciations in a fit of insomnia; i meant to say that my canadian self always want to read it as key-go lol. but for the most part i pronounce it as keh-go too, especially if i’m saying it fast! i pronounce kei as kay too!! aaaah sorry my friend, big apologies for any confusion!!!

#hopelessly canadian hahahaha that’s so so cute #you know what’s another one that gets me??? d-AW-bi versus d-AH-bi #because i feel like they say both????? like i feel like daw-bi is more in the english dub and dah-bi is more in the og japanese #but even in japanese i’ve heard the actors pronounce it both ways #soooooo i switch between the two too haha #i find myself gravitating more towards dah-bi tho #i was so flippin happy when natsuo said touya in this most recent season & confirmed that i was pronouncing it right LMAOOOO #i was so worried about that tbh i have trouble with proper pronunciation; i always have ._.#i think it’s because my tongue is too big for my mouth but really who knows #anyway! have a great week & stay safe + hydrated!#inky.bb #clari gets mail

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cry4mina · 9 days

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Death of Peace of Mind - Part 2 - Sugar

(Dom!Momo x fem!reader)

Death of Peace Of Mind - Part 1

Word Count: 3.6k

Filth, this is PURE filth/a fluffy moment or two

Summary: Momo wants seconds and you’re completely at her mercy.

TW: THIS IS AGGRESSIVE SEX. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE BOTHERED BY THE FOLLOWING: Degradation, Bondage, slapping, biting, overstimulation, mommy kink (please let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: YAY OMG 200 FOLLOWERS WOW

Thank you so much to everyone who’s supported my works, everyone who has reached out and all the moots! <333 I did not think I’d be getting this much attention, so please know that I’m so grateful for every single one of you!

@nr1chaedickrider scheming with me for this one too so make sure u show chaepookums some love! Thanks again for bouncing ideas back and forth with me!

And of course all the moots who yelled at me to finish this lmaoooo

Fully prepared for the anons to go feral again.

Enjoy! :)

——

Shuffling and the sound of the shower turning on wake you from the deep sleep, the ache between your legs still very present, radiating not only desire but pure soreness from how rough Momo was with you.

A small whine and sleepy pout leaves your lips when you feel the bed dip back down next to you, hands gripping your face and a few light kisses scattering your cheeks as you furrow your brows.

“I’d rather your mouth somewhere else,” groggily leaves your lips as you fall in and out of sleep again.

“You’re lucky you got what you did last night.” scoff echoing in your ears, still holding your face and halfway pinching your cheeks to get you to pay attention.

“Was I?” Muffled through the haze, eyes still chasing the dreamscape as you lean into her hands. Lightly placing your head on the pillow, you can imagine the sneer she’s got painted across her face.

Momo gets up, “You are so ungrateful…” tone pointed as she heads to the bathroom, shower already anticipating her.

The static of the water and calmness of the room allowed you to slip back into your dreams of Momo throwing you around the way she did the night before.

—

Flashes of the night before present, rolling around with Momo in your shared sheets. Her sitting so close to your face- cunt dripping. pulling you up by your restraints and pounding the life out of you, sends aches through your body.

Aware of being in a dream space and happily reliving the memories when you felt something warm between your legs, taunting you. Heated breathes on your thighs, a familiar wetness between your folds, and the sensation of nails trailing around your hips.

Groggily whimpering and opening your eyes, your vision blurred by the half-sleep you were just getting. Attempting to stretch in your dazed state when you’re immediately halted by the cold unfamiliar feeling of metal around your ankles.

“Momo?” Breathlessly uttered, peering down to find her between your legs, ankles cuffed to the frame, chains taut to keep you from moving too much. Your muscle memory activates, reaching for her hair, only to find them connected to the bed frame in the same way your ankles were, metal pressed against the fragile skin of your wrists.

A gasp leaves your lips, eyes finally focus to reveal Momo between your legs tracing patterns on your clit with her tongue, just enough pressure to tease, looking at you with amused eyes when you finally realize what’s happening.

The punishment wasn’t last night…it was right now.

Mouth switching to a single pointer finger, imitating the pressure of what was once in its place. Half-lidded eyes make contact with yours, mirroring the lust you seeped from your pores, glistening in soreness and aching for more.

“I don’t think you made enough of a mess for me last night, baby. Let me show you why you won’t do that again'' calm in tone and aggressive with movements as she leans down and sucks on your pussy harshly. Still swollen from last night, attempting to writhe underneath her at how overstimulated you felt.

“Baby, please! Fuck fuck fuck!” bolts of lightning travel through your core, immediately setting a fire into the room as you attempt to pull away from the intense wave of pleasure hitting you all at once barely any build up.

Holding you down by your hips firmly as she works her tongue into you, moaning directly into your pussy as she sucks and laps at you, only to pull away quickly once you’ve finished, standing up and walking over to the side of the bed.

“You know the word, right?” breaking character for a moment to check in with you to make sure you knew you could stop this at any time.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your body, gasping as you weakly nod your head towards her, still trying to blink the rest out of your eyes and recover from the wave of overstimulation placed within you.

This was the permission she knew she had, before asking. An evil grin forms on her face as she starts chuckling at you, slowly dragging her finger down your body as she makes her way back down to her place between your legs.

Twitching under her touch as she lightly scratches down your body, unable to keep still when she reaches your core. Too sensitive to even pretend you have any sense of brattiness in you.

“Pathetic…have nothing to say back now?” cocking her head to the side and giving you a glare that made you tense up. She swings her hand down, a solid slap on your clit makes you jolt.

“Awh, does my little whore need something?” a smack to your pussy causes you to yelp and squirm underneath her powerful gaze still chuckling at how desperate you are.

Holy shit. She really wasn’t going to cut you any slack, was she?

Crawling up your body slowly, harshly biting her way up your chest to your neck just to whisper in your ear, “I’m going to make sure you know your place, princess.”

Roughly biting the side of your neck, brutally pinches your nipples, tugging them in a way that would still cause pain even if they weren’t already sore from the previous night.

Wailing at her every touch, she continues to laugh at the anguish you were experiencing, knowing full well that you started this. You were the reason it was even happening.

Moving to straddle your thighs, reaching her hand down and running her middle finger up your slit again to see how much you were enjoying what she was putting you through.

“Oh? Do you enjoy the consequences of your actions? How cute.” pressing her slick covered finger against her thumb, only to pull them apart to see the string that connects her digits together.

Pulling at your restraints again as she licks her fingers clean, making eye contact with you as she does so just to get a reaction, which was you clenching around nothing. Oh, she wants you dead.

“You won’t be getting out of those cuffs, princess. Don’t you understand what you’ve done?” a condescending tone glitters her words as she slides the familiar strap, the one you regularly used, on and tightens it to her waist. You notice there was nothing attached to the other side of it.

This was purely to punish you, she might get some pleasure from her clit rubbing against the leather of the harness but this was solely about you. Your wants. Your needs. What you had instigated last night…you were going to get full force today.

She shimmies her hand underneath you, placing a pillow folded in half under your ass to angle your hips up to the perfect spot for hers to connect.

“You’re going to take what I give you, my desperate little bitch,” spitting into her hand and stroking the strap, smearing her saliva all over it. Oh god, she really wanted you dead.

Legs too far apart to push your thighs together for friction especially with the elevation, trying to squeeze them together despite Momo being between them. You’re at her mercy and hoping that she’ll be nice enough to let you walk out of this bedroom with the ability to speak in coherent sentences. A lovely passing thought.

Scooting closer to you, her knees on either side of your hips, arms hooked underneath your legs as she glides the tip of the strap over your sensitive folds, stinging in sweet bliss as it passes up and down.

“Mmmph…fuck, Momo…please” a hand swings across your chest, smacking your already sore breast hard enough to have you squealing underneath her touch.

“Do you want to try that again?” Another smack to the other tit, another gasp, goosebumps so spread over every part of your skin, nipples hard at the sharp pain that laid into you.

“Mommy…I’m sorry, please…I need you” begging for some kind of release and forgiveness. She has you right where she wants you. Helpless, dripping, and begging.

Momo lets out a laugh and sighs, shaking her head and tsking at you disapproval evident. Her hands reach for your chest, flinching under her while trying to rock your hips in rhythm with the strap grinding into you just enough to cause a persistent ache, slowly building you up again.

“Look at you, my pathetic little slut. Pitiful. So reactive to my touch.” thrusting the toy against you again, tears almost spilling as the knot starts to tighten, needing something more to satiate.

“Fuck” moaned out, trying to arch your back to scoot closer to the pleasure, the only thing that fills your mind, completely taken over by lust as you try to shift your weight into to her. Whine after whine vocalized through a primal urge, pulling at your restraints to try to bring yourself closer to her. Maybe she’ll take the hint.

“Do you want to test me now, my love?” pouted back at you, slapping the strap softly against your swollen pussy. Taunting you, testing you to see how reactive you could get. It was working.

You lurch forward, only to be stopped by the restraints, about 5 inches from Momo’s face, continuing to maneuver the strap over your slit. Your arms are behind you at an angle, shaking as you try to hold yourself up long enough to challenge her dominance.

The intensity of pure lust in her eyes was palpable, intensely thick as she took in your state. Sweaty, whining, heavily breathing, and eager movements gave you away; not that you had the willpower to hide them considering the position you were in.

Suddenly Momo gets up, practically sprinting to the nightstand drawer, pulling it open and grabbing keys before hastily returning to the foot of the bed, and undoing the cuffs around your ankles. Who’s needy now?

Just as you’re about to move, she grabs you and folds you where she wants you. Legs tucked up over her shoulders, strap against your heat, and Momo nipping at your chest. You’re about to explode as she grinds up against your pussy again, torturing you just a little more before she fully commits and bottoms out in you instantly.

Stars cloud your vision and she starts a slow pace, almost slamming into you as you feel the sensitivity from the night prior deep within you. Finally getting the feeling you wanted, losing yourself in the haze of pleasure with Momo on top of you, grunting as she starts to pick up her pace, ever so slightly.

“You don’t cum until I say so, if i even let you, got it?” nodding your head knowing that you won’t be able to hold off much longer if she keeps up what she’s been doing. You practically begged her to behave this way weeks ago and you were finally getting what you wanted.

“Dirty fucking slut. -grunt- Do you really think someone else can fuck you like this?” One of her hands comes up to find its place around your throat as she mercilessly slams into you, adding to the euphoria that was already taking over every sense you had.

“Mommy I’m gonna cu-” her digits find their way to your face, squishing your cheeks forcing you to look her in the eyes, glaring at you as she continues to penetrate you roughly.

“You better fucking not! Desperate fucking whore wanted me to fuck her…-grunt- You needed this didn’t you? Needed me to fuck some sense into you?” Sternly escapes her lips between heavy panting, questioning the motives that lead you to where you are now.

“Is this what you wanted? To be turned into my fuck toy? Want me to cum deep in you? Hmmm? -grunts- Answer me, slut.”

You’ve been sucked into the void of pleasure, trying to form words but it all turns into loud groans as you violently quiver, unsure of how long you can hold the orgasm back. She slides her hand down to your neck from your face, squeezing lightly to hold you into place. Other hand aiding her from your thigh.

Stroking into you, holding you by the throat, she cocks her hand back and slaps your face lightly. Another stroke, another slap, another rhythm to add to the stimulation. Momo keeps this pattern, littering you with light smacks until you being to absolutely crumble beneath her.

“Gonna cum, fuck fuck right there, Mommy…please cum in me” releasing around her on the next slap. Completely fucked out and gushing, she doesn’t stop, even if your grip around her strap is making it hard for her to slam into you savagely.

Soreness builds up even more through her consistency, not giving you a break in the slightest. You were just a sleeve for her, happily accepting the punishment and overstimulation she offered you.

“…fuck, baby wait let me tou-” a particularly hard thrust causes you to completely lose your train of thought, back arched, tears falling and a total mess in mere seconds…all from her. Hirai Momo.

Leaning back, one hand on your thigh, she finally lets you uncurl your legs only to rub harsh circles around your clit, slapping it lightly between her vicious thrusts. Bed frame slamming against the wall at the pure fury in her movements.

“That’s right, cum for me again and again. You only stop when I tell you too, whore.” The sounds emitting from your mouth and cunt are lewd enough to make a pornstar shy. Wailing loudly, vision blurred, and completely overstimulated, your body twitches incessantly. Back involuntarily arching as you lose control from her feral fucking. It sends you into a spiral of divine delight.

“Gonna cum in you so you know your fucking place” picking up her speed again, her clit rubbing on the leather while thrusting her hips into you rabidly.

“Don’t you want that, princess? Don’t you want to leak my cum all fucking day? -fuck fuck fuck-” chasing her own pleasure, feeling her dripping onto you, scooching into you, hips sputtering unevenly before she lets out a string of guttural moans. Breath heavy with a light sheen of sweat layering her skin, muscles clenched as she gets closer to releasing at the thought of cumming deep inside you.

“So deep, Mommy. - so fucking deep - Cum in what’s yours.” through soft pants and almost uncomfortable soreness that hurt so good, you wouldn’t be upset if you felt it tomorrow.

“Fuck!” thrusting one last time before completely falling apart between your thighs. Shaking, uncontrollably bucking her hips into you, her hands are on your calves and her head tilts towards the sky while whine after whine levitates from her lungs.

Reaching back to grab the keys quickly out from the ankle cuffs, careful not to remove the strap from you just yet, she undoes your arm restraints - one by one and finding her place, laying on your chest as she attempts to catch her breath.

Your arms finally free from their cages, you slowly bring them down, wincing at the stiffness and placing them lightly around the back of Momo’s neck. You lightly kiss the top of her head, running your fingers lightly over the skin on her shoulders.

“Was that too much?” your little service top was back to being worried about you, lifting her head and resting her chin on your chest as she meets your eyes, wondering how you were feeling about what just transpired.

“It was perfect, baby. You did so well for me.” soothing her as she laid her head on your chest again, cheek flush against you and arms around you, tightly holding you.

“You know…I think I’d like to do that more. It was kind of hot.” Momo giggles softly at admitting she enjoyed being rough with you.

“I like seeing you so desperate for m-…baby, what are you doing?” ache returns deep within you as she talks about what she enjoyed from the session, hips starting to involuntarily rock as she talked about what pleased her.

Smiling at you in disbelief, she rolled you both over, staying inside you while she sits up on her knees, forcing you with her. Chests pressed together, your arms clutching her close by her neck, as you gently bounce up and down with shaky legs in Momo’s lap.

Hands slide up to your ass, grabbing and tugging at the flesh while she helps your momentum, adoring eyes looking up at you before kissing you passionately as you ride her.

Moaning into her mouth as she guides you to move faster, supporting your weight, thrusting up into you tenderly creating the perfect balance of pleasure through the sharp ache inside you.

“Mommy, -Mmm fuck-, I’m gonna cum again.” whispered into her mouth while gripping her hair tightly trying to put the orgasm off until she asks you for it.

“I love it when you call me that” passionately kissing you before finishing her thought.

“Cum for me, princess. You’ve been such a good girl for me.” that sends you into the wave of euphoria laced love, releasing completely to her again, clinging to her as your body tenses up, moans muffled by her tongue dancing with yours, you fully in her arms unable to hold yourself up.

Momo tilts sideways and lays you down gently on the bed, removing the strap from inside you causing you to gasp at the emptiness and soreness spikes, muscles contract around themselves instead of what she just ruined you with.

Momo giggles, being sure to bring the strap into the bathroom to deal with later before returning with a damp washcloth to wipe you off and a bottle of water, finding you already fast asleep curled up in her spot on the bed.

Smiling victoriously, she cleans you up without taking you out of your resting state, placing the water bottle on the nightstand next to you for when you wake up from your peaceful nap.

Taking her phone off the charger and grabbing her red silk robe, she slipped into it and quietly made her way to the kitchen. It’s still relatively early in the day, breakfast being on her mind as she starts the coffee pot, when her phone rings. She answers it on speaker when she sees the caller ID.

“Hi Sana.”

“Hey! How did it go?” Her voice rings loudly through the speaker as Momo grabs a mug and rolls her eyes, knowing that’s the only reason she would be calling this early.

“It went just fine, thanks for asking” awkwardly chuckling at how nosy her best friend was.

“Sooooo you did what we talked about?” inquiring further for details of the sexcapade. Momo turns beat red and puts her hands over her face to cover her embarrassment.

“Sana! I’m not going to tell you what happened! If she finds out you and I were scheming…I truly don’t even know what she’d do! She can’t know that you told me about what she said to you! ” exclaimed through awkward laughs.

“Scheming, hmm?” coming from behind Momo, causing her to freeze in her tracks, face turning bright red, holding her breath as Sana cackles on the other end of the phone.

“…so I have Sana to thank for the confidence boost you needed?” sarcastically said while walking over to her and leaning against her, still having a little trouble standing on your own. You kiss Momo’s cheek before starting to make two cups of coffee while she stands there in shock.

Sana is having a laughing fit on the other side of the phone, not being able to contain herself - entertained by the idea of how embarrassed Momo was and the reveal of you and Sana cooking up a plan to get you exactly what you wanted.

“Thank you, Sana!” yelled out into the kitchen so she could hear it over her own laugh, bringing you to chuckle along with her at how well everything actually worked.

“You’re welcome, Y/n! I want the details later!” Swiftly hanging up to leave you both alone with each other.

“If I knew all you needed was a confidence boost, I would’ve told her what I wanted ages ago instead of trying to convince you to be rough with me, baby.” pinching her ass, winking and then going back to your shared bedroom.

“Wait…wait what?! You told Sana…and then she tol- oh, you bitch! You’re playing a twisted little game!” playfully chasing after you, just to kiss you deeply before returning to cook you your favorite breakfast.

Thanks again for reading! 🖤

#twice imagines #twice x reader #kpop x reader #momo x fem!reader #momo x fem reader #momo imagines #momo smut #momo x reader #hirai momo #twice momo #dom!momo #top!momo #hirai Momo x fem!reader #twice smut #gg smut

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savnofilter · 10 months

Text

Text Me Back | Katsuki Bakugo

Pro Hero!Katsuki Bakugo x [FEM]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, sexting, sending nudes, crude jokes, mention of myspace™, p.o.v switches, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 4k words [15 mins].

READ MORE: masterlist + [student masterlist].

A/N: gosh i wish i couldve done more with this but... i'll figure it out later. may revamp or do a part 2 but it depends on how motivated. anyways, enjoy. 🥹 also i just realized that reader did nothing the whole day LMAOOOO so ignore that pls omg. thank you, anon!

As spring rolled around, the air had a certain chill to it.

It was a crisp scent with sharp edges, the smell of growing plants clinging onto the molecules within the vicinity. As a result of the coolness in your room, you probably should turn on the heater in your apartment. Usually, you wouldn't have to worry about doing it yourself, but due to maintenance delaying another day later to fix the issue, you now find yourself in an internal battle to get up out of your bed for your comfort.

Of course, you didn't hate the spring atmosphere. You liked it. The nostalgic and tender feel it gave your body and mind gave a fake sense of comfort that you desired. But you would desperately love it more if you could bask in such ideals while in the comfort of your lukewarm sheets, temperature heightened by the air of the room.

You groan in disdain at the fact you had to get out of your bed. You begrudgingly roll onto your side and feel around for your phone on your nightstand. Once finding your device you click the button on the side to partially unlock it to see what you have missed from being asleep. Of course, regular things like Twitter notifications were present, Snapchat, Instagram, MySpace, etc… until a message stuck out the most amid your roll call.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Light schedule today, museum date?

I know you will wake up late, so I'll decide for you. Pick-up is at 7 p.m.

[✓] Sent 8:42 A.M.

You immediately perk up at the notification, a goofy smile spreading onto your lips.

Bakugo has been your boyfriend for about three years now. You had originally met years prior when you both were in school. Him being an intern for superhero-ing and you were an intern for hands-on training within the superhero management world. You were a little shit and he was an even more of a little shit… and that's what made you two click. Even with his calloused way of showing his emotions, he had still been pretty evident about his feelings towards you when you two were merely friends. In the same way, you two could work and piss each other off to no end, there was a great sense of duality showcased by empathy, love, and compassion toward each other. When you needed someone or something, you could always count on your boyfriend, Katsuki.

You chewed the inside of your lip as your brain racked your head at the things you needed to do today. Today was Friday so you were sure you wouldn't have anything on your schedule. But because you tended to let things slip your head, you still had to double-check to make sure. You light up once again as you realize today was only a busy day for yourself—chores, errands, and minimum job-related things you could finish at home. Nothing dire; just adulting.

You

and what if I said no????

how'd y'know i'd wake up late lol

[✓] 13:01 P.M.

After quickly adjusting your noise settings from silent to vibrate, you bring your phone back down onto the nightstand and properly sit up to avoid your back from aching at an uncomfortable angle. You stretch in delight, arms brought over your head and your eyes shut exerting all of the drowsiness within you. You coil back into yourself once the cold air you had forgotten about hits your skin as a rude reminder. You glare at the thermostat before swiftly throwing your covers off and trudge your way to the small dial and fix the dilemma yourself.

While fiddling with the switch, you hear your buzz behind you. Your brows scrunch in frustration as you can feel yourself start to get agitated at how it's acting, finally getting the stupid little compartment to work before walking off. You nearly trip on your way back to bed in an effort to get back to the warmth of your bed.

Bakugo 🤭💕

You always wake up in the evening, dumbass.

& you have a free schedule today.

[✓] Sent 13:08 P.M.

You scoff.

Your chat bubbles float up on the screen on his end as you try to think of something more annoying to combat him with. You fall short.

You

Damn.

[✓] Sent 13:11 P.M.

You think to yourself before pausing and sending another text.

You

shouldn't you be at work? why are you texting me

a kid is probably drowning rn bc Lord Explosion Murder Dynamight is sexting his girlfriend instead of doing his job.

did you change your name to your hero name AGAIN???

[✓] Sent 13:15 P.M.

If loving this kind of banter was something that you enjoyed, may the devil take you away. You couldn't help the grin mischievously as you waited for his correspondence. You were practically on the edge of your bed waiting for his reply.

A few minutes go by and he hasn't replied. There's a pang of hurt following your spiraling thoughts. Who cared if a kid was really drowning-

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳{replied to your text: shouldn't you be at work? why are you texting me}

Is work in the room with us?

[✓] Sent 13:25 P.M.

You're almost quick to reply before seeing his speech bubbles pop up again, eyes watching in interest. You can't help but feel nervicited seeing it disappear and reappear, proud to have stunned him. What you didn't know is what he was fixing himself to say.

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳{replied and highlighted: … Dynamight is SEXTING HIS GIRLFRIEND instead of doing his job.}

No pic, no proof

[✓] Sent 13:27 P.M.

You squint at your phone and pause. Did he just quote the way you talk AND send you a musty and memefied reply all in one go? You huff at his bravery, rolling your eyes but feeling a deep blush creep up on your cheeks. Your phone vibrates.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Don't tell me you folded that fast, babe.

[✓] Sent 13:31 P.M.

Oh, but you did. You weren't expecting him to fire back at you like this. Often when you made an innuendo of some sort he'd whine and brush it off as if he hasn't beaten your doonies down multiple times—sometimes all in one night. But you refused to let him win this. You need to think fast.

Again, the cool air caresses your exposed hand, the stroke of the uncomfortable chill making you hiss. You position yourself on your back where you can safely cover the backs of your hands as you held your phone. A few more minutes had passed than you had noticed, your screen growing dim as you were forced to look at your newly awakened and chilled state.

That's when it hit you.

No pic, no proof, right?

As you shiver feeling a stroke of air pass over again, a sign that the temperature in the room is actively changing, you look down at your chest. In your defense, they looked at you first. Your nipples are profoundly erect and poking at your shirt begging for attention. You purse your lips before looking back at your screen, contemplating your next moves. Sucking in a small breath you quickly awaken your phone and swipe your screen over to take a photo of yourself.

You angle the electronic to show your chest, your other hand dragging up some of your shirt to show little skin of your stomach. Your nipples were still very much the prominent part of the image. After realistically struggling a bit, you snap the picture and quickly hum in surprise at how good it is. If you were in any other state than your current one, you would've retaken it but you couldn't feel yourself to care knowing he's an ass anyway.

You decide to say something after the image as you bring up the chat and send in the picture.

You

(IMAGE)

is this proof?

[✓] Sent 13:40 P.M.

After setting your phone down and interlocking your fingers together, you stare up at the sky: now that you think about it, what possessed you to send such a scandalous picture all of a sudden? The hormone monster? When was the last time you sent him a proper nude? You rub your face and groan as you now really think about it.

No matter how many times you have sent spicy images, it was the mock post nut clarity after sending it off. Debating if the pic was good enough or hoping that it somehow didn't change sender at the last second. The vulnerable feeling starts to claw its way into your body… and yet you refuse to let it get to you. Just like how everything with Bakugo is, all the nervous feelings always filled you with excitement. You couldn't wait to see his response because you knew damn well he was your munch.

You hear your phone buzz once before turning your head to see it fade to black again. Deciding to not look at it straight away, you get up for the second time today. Fortunately, your room was starting to warm up which meant it was the perfect time to start your day (yes, nearing the second hour of the evening). Your phone buzzes again and you choose to ignore it.

Running through your routine is clockwork. Use the bathroom, brush your teeth, shower, facial, and the last part you hadn't reached yet was to get dressed. You had honestly forgotten about teasing your long-term boyfriend as you freshened up for the day. Typically, you did this as a way to relieve stress and rejuvenate yourself. You hum as you lotion up yourself, welcoming back the feelings of giddiness back to your body. There was no need to rush this; it was almost as though the teasing was for your enjoyment more than his. Again you wrap yourself in your robe and finally sit on your bed to go on your phone. His message reads:

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳Loved your message.

Fuck.

Is this how we're playing today?

[✓] Sent 13:41 P.M.

You bite the inside of your lip before a smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth as you type up a reply.

You

you don't want more? okay… ;( 💔

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

He immediately opens your message and his speech bubbles become afloat.

Bakugo 🤭💕

You know damn well that's not what I meant, brat.

Another form of confirmation would be suitable.

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

There's a pause before he sends his next text.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Please.

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

You

I guess you can since you asked nicely…

[✓] Sent 14:41

He was a good boy you had to admit. When he wanted you, he certainly knew how to play the rules until he could be on top. You admired that about him.

You slightly turn your head to the mirror of your bed. You were currently out of sight in the reflection but had an idea of how you could use it. You scooch up to the edge of your bed, sitting with your legs on each side of the corner closest to the body mirror. Before you could even think about sending off a photo you pull your hair back and neaten it up whether it was with a bonnet or messy bun. Regardless you knew he wouldn't give a fuck but this surge in arousal made you want to look sexy in your most natural state. Skin glowing and thriving, you felt like a goddess.

Blessed that the room is warm enough for you to be naked, you partially undress; eyes watch your irresistible figure come to reveal itself. Of course, even with how much you loved yourself, you couldn't show all of yourself just yet. You pull your robe open enough to expose your chest, a small huff of discontent leaving as the air hits your naked skin again. A hum leaves your chest as you admire yourself a bit more, before positioning the camera in a way to show off your chest. You knew this would drive him insane. After a few awkward angles and shots, you deemed your favorite one and opened back up the messages app once again.

You waste no time uploading the pictures but grow a bit hesitant as you can’t help but feel nervous. You’d think after doing this with a trusted partner it’d be a breeze at this stage. You fidget on the edge of the bed as you type up, delete, then retype, decide to delete and then the process continues. ‘Why was this so hard?? Just send the damn pic!’ You sigh and type up your final draft, ready to send the first proper nude for the evening.

With a final decision, you decide to go with something simple.

You

how’s this?

(IMAGE)

[✓] Sent 14:57

You immediately close out the app once you send it off and fall back onto your bed. There’s a giddy smile on your face as you could only imagine what his reaction would be to see the photo. That was the whole exciting thing about this: the teasing that transpires and the adrenaline rush you receive from it. You don’t bother to check if he’s seen it yet as you think it would be best to let your heart rest. Luckily, it’s not long before you need to wait as your phone buzzes beside you.

After a few moments of waiting you sit up on your side to look at the message, your eyes immediately going for Bakugo’s text. You freeze upon seeing two messages in the same format as yours, a regular text followed by a photo to compliment the exchange. You raise your eyebrows as you prop yourself up on your hand now, tapping his notification and swiping up to look at what he has sent you.

You softly gasp as you open the image, something you were not expecting but will gladly accept. “More than perfect.” You read aloud and scrolled further down to look at the whole image. You grin upon seeing a picture of him palming his hard-on through his pants. It appeared by his scenery and clothing that he truly wasn’t out on patrol today, instead probably filming content to build his likability with his fanbase. Not only that, he was in a dressing room, by himself. He had more than enough time to do what he pleases.

Bakugo was more than ready to up the ante and your slow correspondence was killing him. He knew that this was a frequent way that you liked to tease and play dirty with him. He had been up since 5 a.m. and he was basically waiting impatiently for you to wake up.

It had been about a week or so since you two have seen each other and he was missing you badly. Your dumb jokes, your antics, the “arguments” and especially your touch. Apparently, the pre-planned date for tonight was the type of outing you needed as well. Bakugo sucks his teeth as he starts to feel a blush arise on his cheeks as he can’t help but think about you. And you weren’t making it better with how willing you are to toy with him.

Now it was the blonde-haired male's turn to be nervous awaiting your reply. He watched in expectancy to see your response, sitting up from his slouched position on the couch in his dressing room to read your reply.

#1 Brat

not too bad yourself, honey~

[✓] Sent 15:21

Katsuki is quick to start typing again, pausing when he sees your chat bubbles pop up on his phone.

#1 Brat

mind sending another one more… revealing?

(IMAGE)

[✓] Sent 15:23

He chuckles at your proposition. The laugh subsides as he takes in the new image, revealing more of your body in your lying down position practically mimicking the first photo you had sent for the day. The robe artfully covers but also shows your body and he can’t but groan as he longs to touch you. Your breasts, legs, and tummy are so fucking attractive to him. The fact that you have a pretty face tops it all off makes him feel as though he’s won the jackpot being in love with you. But there was one part that he was longing to see as well, the piece of heaven between your legs. The blonde-haired hero grunts as he starts to type up his message.

Bakugo 🤭💕

I could ask the same from you, beautiful.

[✓] Sent 15:26

You

ah-ah, you first!

[✓] Sent 15:27

“This…” Katsuki mumbles to himself but doesn’t stop from unbuckling his pants anyways. With how hard his length appeared in the earlier photo, it is no surprise at how confined it was pressing against his underwear. With a simple tug, he releases his cock from his briefs, a soft groan leaving his lips as he strokes his cock. The warmth of his hand certainly did not compare to yours at all.

He imagines your hot hands caressing every bit of his skin, your warm mouth that’s skilled with playing with his sweet spots, your plush thighs that wrap around his waist or squish his face. The way he could watch how your chest jiggle with each thrust, the way that your pussy never fails to take him in like it was made for him. Everything about you was cursing him and he needed you badly.

Bakugo tilts his head back against the top of the couch as he starts to speed up his thrusts, now fully getting into the thought of what he’d do to you if you were right next to him right now. How he could easily pick you up and pin you onto the couch as he pounds into you like no tomorrow, not giving a fuck if your moans were too loud and anyone passing by could hear the lewd noises coming from within the room. The way he could watch your face contort into the most erotic expressions all because of him, his touch, his mouth, and his dick most importantly. The moment his hips buck to meet his own stroking hand makes him realize he had distracted himself from his main task.

He fumbles around for his phone before setting it up the way you like the most when watching his videos. The angle is perfectly angled to showcase his impressive length, not tew much balls but enough to show the goodies. He made sure to be vocal as well, letting the camera show his stroking and his thumb rubbing his tip every so often to increase the pleasure. A few times you could hear his soft grunts of your name or an exploitive to release the building-up tension from his masturbation session.

He breathes out as he speeds up his strokes. It seems as though with his jerking that he's getting closer and closer to his climax, the only thing clouding his mind is only you. He softly pants and starts to collect perspiration of sweat on his forehead as he works up to his orgasm. He clenches his jaw as he finally finishes and continues to stroke, showing how much cum he can milk from himself. He hums in mere satisfaction and ends the video to clean up. Unfortunately, that in itself did not rid himself of the boner; a new one was already starting to grow once again.

When he processes the video through the messaging app, there is no cheeky remark or commentary. He is officially worked up and cannot wait any longer.

Bzzz Bzzz

Your eyes widen as you finally get your reply back. You tilt your head in curiosity and feel your heart skip a beat. It is a video. Katsuki sent a fucking video. You bite your lower lip and open the message. There was no other text to accompany it but you already knew what you were in for.

Your breath hitches as the video is straight to the point. You watched his perfectly manicured and clean nails skillfully play with his cock, his large hand almost struggling to wrap around his own length. You hear a small moan and you quickly raise the volume, your heart skipping a beat as you realize that you can hear the erotic noises come from him.

Your hand immediately shoots down to untie your robe, slick already starting to increase and your clit pulsing. You shamelessly moan as your deft fingers stroke at your vulva, your mouth in the shape of an, “o” as you use your fluid to play with your bundle of nerves.

“Shit!” You close your eyes with the image of him stroking his cock deeply ingrained in your mind. The noises he made were enough for you to get off on your own. Your middle finger rubs heavy circles into your clit while your other hand busies itself playing with your nipple, the feeling making you lightly shiver. The sounds of his heavy breathing and the silkiness of his hand rubbing his shaft were driving you crazy, and soon enough your petting wasn’t doing the job. You opt for fingering yourself instead, huffing out a whimper as your fingers barely fill your cunt but make up for it by finding your g-spot at the roof of your pussy.

You weakly open your eyes to watch the screen, your breath growing short and light as you meet your fingering with Katsuki’s stroking hand. Another buzz from your phone makes you sit up a little. Your confused and dazed attention span manages to catch the notification that rolls at the top of the screen.

Bakugo 🤭💕 — 15:45

You better not be finishing yourself off without . . .

You groan in annoyance as you remember why you were even diddling yourself in the first place. You slow your strokes down to properly set up your phone, hastily trying to find a proper angle that shows off your body in its entirety (which wasn’t that hard to do as you were in your bed). You spread your legs for the camera and look into the front camera lens as you insert both fingers into your cunt once again. You tilt your head to the side as you look down at your fingers and work a third finger into yourself.

You moan out his name as you work your right hand's fingers into you, building up to the same pace that you had before with the extra digit inside. “Need you so bad, baby--” You groan, looking back up at the screen. Your left-hand comes up to play with your tits again, the robe that still adorned you slipping off your shoulder as you got closer to your climax.

You whimper, finishing off with your fingers, your eyes looking at your cunt taking in your fingers before glancing back at the camera in lust. You repeated, “fuck” as if in a mantra, your eyes closing and your hips bucking to ride yourself to release. You smile as you slowly take out your fingers, your slick sticking to your fingers and your cunt glistening in juices. Your cunt was puffy and warm with arousal pumping through it and it was clear that you wanted him as bad as he wanted you. You scoot a bit closer to show off your sticky fingers, spreading them for him. You hit stop recording with your clean hand after your finished, wasting no time uploading it into the messenger app.

You

of course not, only for you~

(VIDEO)

[✓] Sent 15:55

As soon as you send it in, a text from him follows. You hop up from your bed as you read, heading back to your bathroom to clean yourself up even though the inevitable would have you in the same state as before.

Bakugo 🤭💕

000-0000 Tokyo-to

Be here in 10 minutes.

[✓] Sent 15:56

Hopefully, your newly scheduled meeting won’t delay his filming.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #pro hero!bakugo katsuki x reader #pro hero!bakugo x reader #bnha oneshots #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha oneshots #mha imagines #mha scenarios #n/sfw #sav's saucin'

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 10 days

Text

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝚅. 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, flirting, fluff, angst angst angst, pining, inherent power imbalance due to boss/employee dynamic, Southern culture slander just for @jupiter-soups, multiple instances of violent men/situations, predatory/SA behaviors, Sad During the Holidays™, financial/emotional/physical abuse, high functioning alcoholism | WORD COUNT: 18.3k lmaoooo

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: You try to make the best of the "holiday season," and Joel tries to piece together the secret you've been keeping from him.

The shopping centers around town had all hung their plastic wreaths with bows and fake candles from the light poles that lined the increasingly crowded lots. You never understood why the accompanying flags said Happy Holidays! or Season’s Greetings! when all the decorations were clearly Christmas themed. No matter what anyone celebrated, you dreaded this time of year.

The disappointment was obvious when you were a kid and Santa didn’t come some years because you’d “ been too naughty.” You’d get a few meager gifts from your parents that were clearly an afterthought, but you were always left with the failure and profound sense of shame of not being good enough. Of not having tried hard enough. Of not proving yourself. Of not wanting it badly enough.

By the time you were a teenager, you reasoned that those years where Santa didn’t visit were probably due to the volatile, strange relationship your parents had with each other and with money. Your dad had always brought home enough pay to afford the basics and then some, always offering the allure of a financial safety net for your mom, never having to worry about missing a payment on something or not being able to afford what the neighbors could afford. He was outraged when she took up part-time work, thundering about how it belittled him and isn’t what I make good enough for you?

Your mom made awful choices, often one after the other, but you knew she couldn’t have chosen to love your dad. Who on earth would choose to love someone with such a massive inferiority complex? Someone who needed to keep you under his thumb in case his ego needed a boost or his temper needed an outlet? Someone who kept you strung along just enough to make you see what things could be – dangling the carrot on a stick – just to yank it from you because you weren’t worthy of it yet.

It was your dad’s ego and need for validation that led him to cheat on your mom. That was your best guess, anyway. It’s not like the family sat down to talk about it ever. Everyone knew, but no one was allowed to speak on it. Unless of course it was your parents screaming at each other in the middle of the night, accusations and confessions flying.

One of the times your mom had gotten it the worst from your dad is when he’d discovered her fooling around with somebody at her part-time job. After he made sure her body wouldn’t ever move again without a reminder of him, he made her quit and sign over all her remaining pay to his private account. It was probably some sort of punishment for her hard earned money to go into his personal, private account. What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is mine.

It never stopped her from lashing out at him, though. She always finagled her way into an account or stealing a card before blowing a bunch of money on something insignificant just to spite him. You never understood why sometimes she’d cower from him and other times openly defy him. They’d hit each other and then sometimes he’d just hit her. He always hit Calum, though.

When your mom couldn’t disrupt that dynamic, she started leaving the house more often. If she couldn’t stop it, then she didn’t want to be around to see it. The anger you carry for that still bubbles up every now and then, often when it’s least convenient to address. You and Calum were never given the option of leaving.

You were both expected to fall in line with whatever whims were being had by whichever emotionally stunted adult was home at the time. You were both expected to tune into the mood of the household and adjust yourselves accordingly.

It took a long time after your mom left for you to realize why your dad chose Calum as his main target: he was the next in line that posed an inevitable threat to his authority.

Calum had always leaned more towards the scrawny side, but a few growth spurts after age 12 had bulked him up and upped his height significantly. You can still vividly remember the first time it clicked for them both that Calum was finally a physical match for your dad. They were arguing about Calum’s grades, as if the horrible stress of your mom leaving on top of the already shitty home environment weren’t a clear source for the poor academic performance.

When your dad shoved him, he shoved back. Hard. Hard enough that your dad stumbled backwards into the wall and cracked some of it with his shoulder. The tense silence that followed felt like it went on forever. You watched on in horror, anchored to the spot and shaking. It felt far-fetched and perfectly reasonable all at once when you briefly feared that your dad might kill him.

Before he could say or do anything, Calum scurried off to his room and slammed the door shut. Your dad rounded on you and slapped you clear across the face for “just standing there watching it all.” For bearing witness to the shame of him being challenged and bested. You’d automatically apologized and ran to your room.

You didn’t have fun family holiday traditions like everyone else seemed to. You didn’t have fond memories of a cherished gift. Your parents didn’t have funny stories about the mayhem of beating out other parents to snag the hottest toy of the season for their kid. You didn’t have a favorite holiday movie. You didn’t have fun, quirky stockings or personalized ornaments or special recipes that were only brought out this time of year.

Your distaste for the holidays had grown into an outright dislike for them altogether. If it wasn’t the stress of your parents fighting or whether or not Santa would deem you a bad kid again this year or having to hear all your classmates buzzing with the excitement over break once school started back up, it was the glaring truth that you were different and had to hide because of it.

Everything was a lie. Everything was a carefully concocted and delivered story. To avoid prying questions. To ignore the hurt of what you lacked. To keep anyone from finding out about your home life and getting you and Calum separated.

You tried not to stew in it. You tried not to rain on everyone else’s parade. It wasn’t their fault you’d grown up like that, and it wasn’t your right to be angry with them because they hadn’t. Still, this was your first Christmas without Calum home. Thanksgiving had been more manageable since everyone treated it as a single day of celebration – a half week at most. But come December, it was just a month long barrage. Twenty five days straight of reminders that you were alone. You hated it.

You made sure to keep that to yourself, though. Joel had sheepishly kept the radio on a holiday station, mumbling something about how Sarah would always make him leave it on. You didn’t tease him over it, didn’t mention the obvious fact that he seemed to like the music, too, but wasn’t sure how to acknowledge it without getting grief for it. Tommy for sure would say something just to get a rise out of him. You wonder what they were like as kids at Christmastime.

You jostle in your seat as Joel takes a particularly sharp turn. The usual shopping center route he took as an office cut through was busier with cars and people with all the holidays looming. You cherish the extra 3 or 4 minutes of alone time this alternate route gives you.

It’s only a few days into the month when he strikes up a conversation about getting gifts early so he’s not scrambling at the last minute. He tells you all about how he should know better by now and how many years he spent rushing around at the last minute with Tommy sat up at the house while Sarah slept just so he could try to get his hands on what she’d asked Santa for.

You think to yourself how you wish you knew what to get him for a gift. Not that you’d do it. You barely have any money, and you don’t even know what he’d like. Plus, it’d probably be rude or look weird to not also get Tommy something. At worst, you’d get Joel something you could actually afford, and it would just be a cheap gift no matter what. You’re also not well-versed in Christmas gift exchanges considering your upbringing. It’s probably best to just avoid it altogether at this point in your life.

“You know, you could use a vacation day if you wanted. Or even a half day if you don’t need the whole day.”

You pivot in your seat from where you’d been gazing out the window at all the random, tacky decorations that popped up seemingly overnight. Calum would’ve laughed at them with you if he were here. “What?”

“Yeah, you can use some time off. You’ve already earned some.”

You blink a few times and try to figure out what he means by bringing this up. Did he not need you as much? Were you too unproductive to keep around? Was he trying to let you down easy while he told you the job wasn’t yours anymore?

“I don’t want a day off.”

“Oh. Okay. It’s nothin–”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Huh?” He tilts his head to meet your eye. He looks just as confused as you feel.

“If I made it seem like I don’t want this job, I do. I really do. And-And I can work harder, too. I can take more hours. I can take on more responsibility.” It all comes spilling out of you in a frantic rush. Whatever he needed to hear so that you didn’t lose this job. So you didn’t lose Joel.

“Sweetie, I just meant if you had Christmas shoppin’ or somethin’ like that. You could use a vacation day instead of fightin’ off the crowds on the weekends.”

Oh. Of course that’s what he meant. And of course it hadn’t occurred to you because you don’t have anyone to get gifts for. The lead brick of embarrassment knocks around your head and leaves little bruises of self-doubt at every point of contact. You could’ve just thought about it for two seconds instead of making a fool of yourself.

“You know,” he starts gently and sounds a lot like he’s choosing his words carefully. “You’re a hard worker. And a good person. And there’s nothin’ wrong with me recognizing that – or anybody else. Even you.”

Your throat feels tight and prickly, and your nose feels suspiciously like it wants to start dripping warm with sentiment. This is already embarrassing enough without you sniffling and getting all bleary eyed. You want to clam up and bury it all deep until you can act like a normal person again. But something about Joel’s earnestness and kindness pulls at the loose thread that’s keeping you from unraveling altogether.

“I thought you were firing me,” you blurt out.

Apparently this is outlandish enough that Joel has to pull over for a moment to digest it. “What in the world?! Why would I fire you?!” He doesn’t sound mad, just genuinely perplexed. “Look, if I’m givin’ you that impression, you gotta tell me because that is NOT what I wanna portray here.”

“I-It’s not you,” you assert. “I just–I get in my head sometimes.”

He softens at that and reaches out for your hand. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

You grab onto his hand but can’t meet his eye, choosing to look out the window again instead. “This job–you–This job means a lot to me, and I just get scared sometimes of losing something that makes me happy.”

You feel the dip of his weight bow the bench seat as he scoots across it to nestle closer to you. You practically melt on the spot when he wraps his free arm around you. “Hey, you ain’t losin’ this, okay? I don’t want you worryin’ about that.”

You shake your head side to side like you’re trying to dispel all the disorienting thoughts. “Sometimes I just feel like I don’t do enough, like I don’t—I dunno, like I have to keep showing that I’m useful or something. It’s like that guy who has to push the rock up the hill, and it just keeps rolling down.” You fix your eyes on a spot in the distance to keep yourself distracted enough to keep talking. “I feel like it’s gonna crush me one of these days,” you confide in a strangled whisper.

You don’t protest when Joel wraps his other arm around you and pulls you snug against him. It’s an awkward sort of embrace in the confines of the truck, and your tired, pliant body isn’t helping things much.

“Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?”

It’s not a demanding question at all, but it certainly feels that way with how trapped you are in your own secrets. Joel couldn’t possibly know what he’s asking you to divulge.

“It’s my dad,” you confess quietly.

You feel Joel’s body stiffen against you. How much had he already pieced together? You couldn’t tell him like this. He didn’t deserve to have this shoved onto his plate. He’d just been so happy talking to you about all his good memories from this time of year, and you’d gone and ruined it like you always do. You backtrack a little. A half-truth. A half-lie.

“Ever since Calum left, it’s just been harder, you know?”

His body relaxes slightly. “Your brother? Is that why you’ve been on edge? And your dad?”

You clock the relief in his voice. He must’ve been thinking it was something worse. He must’ve been too close to realizing the truth.

“I miss him,” you sniff. “I know him and my dad were never going to get along, but I just wish somehow he could’ve stayed.”

He holds you close, and you angle yourself to fit right into the crook of him. You’ll allow yourself this comfort, just this once. You know from now on you’re going to have to keep a tighter lock on things. This wasn’t anyone’s problem but your own.

“He didn’t make it home for Thanksgiving?”

You shake your head against his shoulder. “No. Probably for the best, though. I always just end up getting caught up in the middle of them.”

“That sounds really hard.”

When you let out a shaky breath in reply, Joel rubs your back and shushes against your temple. “You been dealin’ with this by yourself?” He doesn’t wait for your response. He already knows. “You shoulda come to me, sweetheart. You could’ve, you know?”

“I know,” you sniff.

He pulls back just enough to see your face.

“You come to me if you have somethin’ you wanna talk about, okay? No judgment here. Hell, I won’t even offer advice or say anything if you don’t want. I can just listen if that’s what you need.”

Your bottom lip quivers, and you tug it into your teeth to keep it still. You nod and drift into another hug from Joel.

He’d recognized the shift in you. Something had been even more off since Thanksgiving. You’d said it was a nice day, just a lowkey event. As always, there was the presence of something unspoken just in the periphery of the conversation, but Joel knew better than to ask or to push you for more information. He’d been worried about your notably quieter and somber mood, though. He found himself worrying about you a lot these days. He got the distinct feeling you needed something – someone, maybe – and it drove him crazy that he couldn’t seem to flush the answer out of the reeds.

And then finally, finally, you’d said something that made things clearer. Your brother up and leaving all those months ago was the missing piece. It made so much more sense now. Your dad’s prickly, on edge demeanor. His overbearing worrying about your comings and goings. Maybe the whole bank account thing was just him trying to hold onto the one kid he still had left at home. It wasn’t the healthiest approach, but Joel couldn’t really blame a parent for doing anything in their power to keep their kid in their life. The misdirected upset at you was still irksome, though. You didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of your dad’s unresolved issues about your brother leaving.

Joel painstakingly replayed the conversation over and over again in his head, trying to piece together all the crumbs of information you’d left here and there.

You and your brother got along well enough that his absence weighed heavily on you.

He and your dad didn’t get along at all.

You were always caught in the middle of it.

Your brother left because he and your dad couldn’t work things out.

Did you blame yourself for not being able to keep their relationship intact? Did they still put you in the middle or make you choose sides? Were you still acting as referee to their disagreement?

As many questions as your admission had answered, many more took their place.

“You okay with your bonus bein’ in cash, too?”

He always asked even though he knew the answer by this point. You wonder if he wanted you to say no and just get paid like everyone else did. “Oh, I didn’t know I was getting a bonus.”

“You’re an employee, aren’t ya? Employees get a holiday bonus.” He says it like it’s obvious, and for once you appreciate the finality of the conversation. You didn’t have to wrestle with yourself over whether or not you deserved it because Joel and Tommy were going to give it to you regardless, just like every other employee.

“Thank you,” you say politely in a small voice.

He hums in reply and looks over at you. His jaw slides back and forth a few times in thought before his eyes are on the road again.

“You did good this mornin’.”

You snort and roll your eyes, face angled at him to emphasize your amusement. “I didn’t even do anything. Like, a few laps in a completely empty parking lot isn’t really anything to write home about.”

He smiles softly. “Progress is progress, ain’t it?” he contends. “One successful driving lesson under your belt is plenty enough to celebrate as far as I’m concerned.”

Your cheeks warm at his praise and insistence that something you did deserved to be acknowledged and commended. “I dunno, I think my instructor is a bit of a softie,” you tease. “Feel like I could’ve driven his truck straight into a ditch and he still would’ve found something nice to say.”

Joel chuckles and shakes his head. “Now I don’t know about that one, ya little weasel.”

“Weasel?!” you laugh. “Okay, that’s a new one.”

He laughs louder now and fake pinches your side. “Well it’s the first time you’ve suggested driving my truck into a ditch and gettin’ away with it. Had to bring out the big guns on that one.”

You giggle and jerk out of his reach when he goes to fake pinch you again. “Surprised you didn’t put some weird southern spin on it like usual. ‘Cheesy wheezy weasel goober doober’ or some shit,” you laugh. “Constantly making up words. Real country bumpkin shit, Joel.”

He breathes out a laugh and rolls his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“I dunno, Goober Doober. What am I gonna do with you?”

“If I’m Goober Doober, you’re Plucky Duck,” he challenges.

You both burst into a fit of cackles at the ridiculous nickname threats. The laughter dies down eventually, and the usually unbearable lilt of Judy Garland crooning from now on, our troubles will be miles away in the background feels almost cozy in the confines of the truck.

For once, when she serenades with through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow, you aren’t thinking about your broken family, your broken home, and all the broken, splintered things that could’ve been. You’re thinking about Joel and all the overwhelming urges to be closer to him and keep him with you as long as possible.

The pull of whatever this is that you share is undeniable. Your fingers reach out to him almost without your permission, body reacting and acting in spite of your brain trying to keep things rooted in professional, neutral territory. Your retaliatory pinch ends up as more of a greedy grab to his soft middle.

“Goob,” you huff.

“Pluck,” he shoots back as he grabs your hand.

You pull it back slowly and place both hands in your lap, smiling like an idiot still. Your brain has entered the picture again and is furious with your autopilot heart for constantly pushing the boundaries. The click of Joel’s blinker and the subsequent honk from another car wrench you from your self-chiding.

He jerks the truck back into the lane before laying on his horn and yelling, “Jackass!”

Your hand grips your chest from where it flew up in fright from the sudden maneuver. “Jesus christ! Where’d that guy come from!?”

“Was speedin’ over that hill back there. Can’t see what’s past it until you’re already on top of it. S’why the speed limit changes about four times on this stupid road,” he grumbles. “Hate takin’ it because of that very reason. Fuckin’ hardware store is over this way, though.”

“Fuck I thought he was gonna hit us!”

“Just about did. Fuckin’ idiot drivers. Honked at me like it’s my fault he ain’t followin’ the signs,” he huffs. He glances over at you, arm still clutched across your chest. “You okay?”

You nod and adjust in your seat. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Just scared me a little. Are you okay?”

“I’m good, sweetie.”

It’s a quieter drive to the hardware store where Joel checks on you one more time before leaving the engine running for you while he pops inside for a minute. “Just gotta grab another set of these brackets real quick.”

You sit patiently and listen to the not-so-grating-anymore Christmas music that plays in a low hum on the radio. A lively rendition of Jingle Bells spurs a completely forgotten memory of the year Calum sang the Batman parody version of it over and over again until you were both just about peeing your pants trying to keep your laughter down. You grin and mumble-sing what you can until it all comes back to you.

Jingle bells Batman smells Robin laid an egg The Batmobile lost a wheel And The Joker got away

You giggle and scoot closer to the driver’s side to turn the radio up more. Maybe you did have a happy holiday memory after all.

The nostalgia is cut short when the driver’s door flies open to reveal a surly looking man shooting daggers at you. You scream and reach to shut the door, but he hops onto the truck step and blocks you. He crowds into the frame of the door, not quite entering the truck, but effectively blocking a main exit. You start to scramble for the passenger side but think Joel’s truck getting stolen would be worse than you getting hurt by some psycho. You inch backwards and put your hands up in a placating show of submission.

“Hey, you fuckin’ bitch! You almost made us wreck back there!” he shouts. It’s so much louder in the cabin of the truck.

You shake your head, eyes bugging out wildly at the baffling charge.

“Back on Beaufort? Just over the hill? You’re really gonna act like you didn’t almost make me hit you when you came into my lane?!” he seethes.

It dawns on you that this is the driver of the car that had come hurtling over the hill and honked at Joel a few minutes ago. You hadn’t even noticed him going this same direction. Had he followed you? Obviously not too closely otherwise he would’ve seen that it was Joel who’d gotten out of the driver’s side. Unsure of what to do, you go with your tried and true default: apologize even though you hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I-I’m sorry,” you warble.

“Sorry? Oh, you’re SORRY? Well I guess that fixes everything, huh?” he barks. “Sorry ain’t gonna fix all of us getting pancaked in a pileup just because some girl thinks she can run around in a big pick up truck and keep up with the guys. You need to learn to stay in your fuckin’ lane – literally and figuratively!”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat in a quieter voice.

He leans into the truck and demands to see your ID card and insurance so he can “make a report.” You don’t even know what that means, but it doesn’t sound good.

“Please, I’m really sorry!”

He yells again, and you flinch. Had this been 5 seconds or 5 minutes? It was all a blur. The adrenaline is coursing through you and making it hard to hear over the pounding in your ears. He looks at you expectantly. He must’ve asked a question and you missed it. You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. He laughs, completely devoid of amusement, and shoves a pointed finger in your face. You don’t even hear what he’s screaming at you. You can just make out the furious twitch and pull of his expression, spit flying as he berates you.

And then, he’s gone. Like a giant cane pulling an act off stage, he launches backwards and out of the truck. You shrink onto the floor of the passenger seat and huddle down. The shrill whistle in your ear eases up, and you hear Joel shouting something. There’s someone else shouting, too, but it sounds pained and pitched. Surely that wasn’t the same man who’d just been in the doorframe screaming at you. It sounded so distressed. The loud roar of an engine and then tires peeling against concrete erupt from somewhere behind the truck. It’s quieter again.

The passenger door swings open to reveal a panting, panicked Joel. His eyes lock on yours, and you’re no sooner scrambling up to grab hold of him with your entire body. His arms wrap tight around you as you hitch yourself to him, clawing and hooking your limbs around his shoulders and hips.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, I’m right here,” he says over and over. You slump into him, your body melding against his however gravity sees fit, and breathe in the grounding scent of him. His arm is braced against your back and locking you against him. He shuffles forward to rest you on the edge of the seat so he can look you over for any signs of injury. “Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head side to side, fat tears spilling over with the movement, and pull a shuddering inhale that catches a few times before it takes. “No, h-he was just p-pointing in my face and yell-yelling.”

“Fuckin’ monster,” he hisses under his breath.

A few beats pass as you steady yourself. The abrupt hostility of it was most upsetting, and you tell yourself over and over again in your head that the threat has passed. Joel switches between looking you over for injuries and pulling you against him and rubbing your back.

“And to a fuckin’ woman, too. Goddamn coward ain’t no man.”

Joel’s unwavering, southern gentleman trope come to life commentary makes you giggle despite the circumstances. It catches him off guard as much as it does you. You sniff and brush your arm across your eyes. “Just, like… s-something about you being equally offended that he did th-that but also that he d-did it to a wom-woman is funny to me. S-Sorry.”

Your lopsided smile makes the drying tracks of your tears crinkle on your skin. Joel’s head inches back a little, bewildered and amused at the sharp turn in mood, and smiles a laugh. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m-I’m okay, I think. Just shook me up a little,” you say in a firmer tone.

He sizes you up for a moment and nods, satisfied with whatever clarifying bit of information he’d pulled from your demeanor. “I mean, it is worse that he’s a man doin’ that to a lady,” he emphasizes as though you weren’t entirely understanding where he was coming from.

You close your eyes and grin. “Joel, you’re just, like, the epitome of southern gentleman no matter what. It just struck me as funny. That’s all I meant.”

“I don’t think women are inferior,” he insists with a pleading look in his eye.

“No, I know that. Look, you– this conversation is going sideways. I know you don’t. I-I like how you are with m–how you are with women,” you quickly correct.

He smiles tenderly at the quick switch, obviously catching your original, unfiltered thought. “Just think some things should be taken care of, is all. Nothin’ manly about treatin’ a lady bad. Drives me up a fuckin’ wall.”

You sniff and hug yourself a little closer as the adrenaline starts to fade. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to th—”

“I know. I want to,” you interject. “So, thank you.”

He sighs and rubs a few circles on your knee where it’s bent against the edge of the seat. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Anytime. M’just sorry it happened at all.”

“Not your fault.” You shrug and poke at the side of his thigh as he drifts closer to you again. “Besides, you showed up in time. You came to my rescue, right?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. He peers off at nothing in particular in the distance before fixing you with an earnest look. “You know if you needed somebody to show up for you, I’d show up for you. Right?”

You swallow down the wave of warmth budding from your chest and nod. “Yes.”

“Good. ‘Cause I need to know you understand that.”

“I do.”

He considers you again like he’s making sure you’re not just saying all this to appease him. He looks over his shoulder and leans back. “Alright, you ready to get outta here?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He makes sure you’re situated in your seat and shuts the door for you before climbing into the driver side and pulling out of the lot.

It made him sick to his stomach every time he thought about how frightened you’d been. You were jumpy in the truck for a few days after but had settled down since. He hated to think what could’ve happened to you if he hadn’t been walking out at that moment. It makes his chest tight to imagine if he’d decided to just walk around the store for a minute to look for something else rather than just going in to pick up what he needed and heading right back out like he had.

He’s sure it was driving you crazy to have him constantly checking in on you, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know you were alright. He hadn’t planned on telling you that he’d always show up for you, but it was so compelling in the moment he couldn’t stop himself. You looked like you believed him. God, he needed you to believe him. To understand how fucking deep this went because he was awash in all of it without any understanding of how it’d happened so fast.

He hadn’t known you long enough to justify this sense of duty and devotion he had for you. This innate need to protect and care for you. You were plenty grown enough to take care of yourself, and you didn’t need some old man inserting himself into your life. But he just couldn’t stop.

At first he told himself he was simply showing you gratitude for helping out in the work bind Jenn had left Miller Contracting in. But you’d been around for a few months now, and his sustained level of interest and appreciation felt less and less appropriate for somebody just showing thanks to a new employee who’d stepped up when the company needed it.

He was wrestling with himself even now as his hand hovered over the send button. He shouldn’t be texting you like this. He shouldn’t be pushing for more than what was necessary for work. Even Tommy had picked up on it and given him a little talk about “just being careful with it” as if Joel was some idiot teenager who let his dick do all the thinking.

Joel hated it even more because Tommy was justified with everything he’d said. How you were younger – a lot younger than Joel. How things were weird because he was the boss and you were under him. How even if everything was above board and two consenting adults were venturing into something romantic, there was still the optics of “fucking the secretary.” Joel had winced when Tommy put it in those terms, but he understood why he’d phrased it so harshly.

There were so many things that screamed this isn’t smart, but Joel couldn’t ever find anything to convince himself to turn away from you. It felt like he was hurtling towards the sun and accepting the burn if it meant a moment of warmth.

He sighs and hits send. Your text bubble pops up almost immediately.

Joel: What would it take to convince you to help me wrap these Christmas presents?

You: idk how big are the gifts

Joel: Normal sized? I dunno. There’s hot chocolate in it for you.

You: do you even have hot chocolate lol

Joel: I could if that’s what it would take to convince you.

You: haha you’re actually so ridiculous You: be there in a min

And there it was. The reason he couldn’t stop himself. You gravitated to him, too. He knew you felt it, too. He didn’t know if you felt it as deeply as he did, but there was no denying it existed for both sides. And as much as you liked to poke fun at his traditional southern gentleman tendencies, you sure seemed okay with being looked after that way.

He hoped you understood where it came from. It wasn’t ever about sticking to gender norms or playing a part. It was just expressing an intention of care and devotion to someone that deserved it, to honor a beautiful, strong woman with the sort of reverence she inherently deserved.

At least, that’s how he’d been raised. It was hard to shake when it felt so good to take care of somebody, to offer protection and something solid and strong to someone who maybe wanted to lay their defenses down for a little while. To be the safe space for someone to not have to keep those walls up all the time. And in return let him be soft and attentive and competent and strong.

It felt good to be someone a woman could trust, especially in a world as fucked as this one. And when it was more than just being friends, it felt special to be that sort of man for a woman in all those ways, too.

He waits by the window for you like some sort of creep, unable to miss out on the way you glide up to his house on that old bike of yours. He should really get you a new one. He wonders how much of a fuss you’d make over it before just accepting the gift. He meets you at the door and doesn’t even chastise himself over appearing too eager to see you again after wishing you a goodbye and a good weekend not even 20 hours ago.

“Hey, Goob,” you greet with a wry smile.

“Pluck,” he greets back with matched energy.

His heart beats faster and swells with joy when you let yourself in. You felt comfortable here. You felt comfortable with him. An odd sense of pride takes root in him knowing you feel safe with him and recognize even in a subconscious way that you belong here with him. Together.

He grips his thigh from the inside of his jean pocket in an effort to keep his mind from wandering into such ridiculous avenues. He had no business with those sorts of possessive feelings on top of everything else he felt for you. You said something to him, but he had to ask you to repeat it because he was so fucking distracted.

“I said, were you just planning on kicking back and watching TV while I did all the wrapping?”

You point to the TV playing some random, old Christmas movie he can’t even remember the name of. “Oh, no. Just had that on. Was too quiet around here, you know? Good to have some noise.”

Why was he so flustered today? Where had his cool, collected back and forth with you gone? It was like this attraction to you was making his brain rot with it the longer he held it in.

You seem almost flattered that you being here was helping it not be so quiet, like you felt honored in some strange way that you were being asked to be present and just exist as yourself in a space. That impression is further enforced when he asks about what sort of movies or shows you’d like to watch instead.

“Oh, I don’t really watch too much stuff, honestly.” You lift and sag your shoulders so loosely it’s obvious you’re trying to be flippant about it. “My dad sort of prefers the quiet. Work gets him stressed or whatever. Just likes things to be quiet unless he’s got something on.”

“You don’t watch anything together? Y’all don’t like the same stuff?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess we just like different stuff.” It’s a stiff delivery, and you busy yourself with searching for the tape and scissors in the box of wrapping supplies Joel had brought down. He hadn’t even really intended for you to wrap anything. He would’ve been happy to just sit on the couch together and shoot the shit over some schmaltzy Christmas classic in the background. You seemed like you invited the distraction of it, though – something to blame for your diverted attention away from the curious things you were sharing about your homelife.

“Well, d’ya think you’d like watchin’ more movies? Or TV or whatever?”

He can’t ask the things he really wants to, like why on earth you aren’t allowed to watch the TV in your own damn house or why you have to exist in silence just because your dad calls for it. If he ever tried to pull that with Sarah, she’d laugh in his face and tell him to get a grip.

“I dunno. Maybe. Probably.” You sit for a moment and pick at the ribbons. “Yeah. I think it could be nice.”

He wants things to be nice for you, and he wants to be the one to make them happen. It should be done right. You deserve that much. He can do things right for you. He can do right by you.

Christmas morning is just like any other morning, except it’s a weekday and you don’t get to see Joel. Not a great start. Then of course your dad had sprung the news on you yesterday that Denise and her two young kids were going to be coming over, so the house needed to be “presentable.” He’d been spending more and more time with them, and you could only imagine the sort of lines he was feeding her. It wouldn’t be any use trying to warn her about his true colors, though. She was decidedly frosty towards you for some reason. You didn’t much care to have a relationship with her or her kids, anyway.

Your dad is awake and dressed in a nice sweater, mulling around the kitchen and straightening things that didn’t need it. “You look nice,” you offer up in a show of keeping the peace for the day.

His eyes glide over to you and give you a once over. “Wish I could say the same. Can’t you put something else on?” His nose wrinkles at your sweats and tshirt.

“I’m still in pajamas, dad. I’m gonna change,” you explain.

He snorts and goes back to his pointless tidying. “Maybe it should be a bit of a wakeup call that I can’t tell the difference between your pajamas and your regular clothes.”

You don’t rise to the bait. “Maybe.”

You just shrug your shoulders and mosey towards the fridge to look for something to nibble on before you have to fake your way through the day. You eye your dad’s perfunctory inspection and correction of your work from yesterday and bite back the nasty comment you wish you were brave enough to make. He’d of course been missing the entire afternoon as you swept and scrubbed and cleaned. All to put on some show for his girlfriend and her kids.

Deciding it might be best to know what the schedule was for the day so you could play your part, you ask if there’s any sort of itinerary. He must have some nervous energy he’s looking for an excuse to take out on you because he scoffs and throws a demeaning scowl in your direction. “What do you think they’re coming over to do? What do people do on Christmas, genius?”

You once again swallow down the urge to scream in his face. How were you supposed to know what people were “supposed to do” on Christmas when you’d never had a “normal” one in your entire life? Keeping your calm as you chew a small bite of food, you finish and deliver a neutral response. “Unwrap gifts? Eat something?”

“Always knew you were brilliant,” he snorts sarcastically. It’s derisive and upsetting – just as he intended.

You wander into the living room and stop in your tracks when you see the shiny pile of presents under the sparsely decorated tree. You scold yourself for the flash of hope that tears through you, thinking and wishing that maybe there was something under there for you. But you hadn’t gotten your dad anything. What if he’d gotten you something, but you didn’t get him anything? He’d be upset, wouldn’t he? That would be selfish. Even though you weren’t supposed to exchange gifts. That just wasn’t something your family did.

“Don’t touch them,” he snips from behind you. You jump, unaware that he’d followed you. “Don’t want you getting crumbs and fingerprints all over them.”

The subtext there was of course that these gifts were not intended for you. Your heart sinks, and you want to admonish yourself for even being stupid enough to hope for a moment that anything your dad put effort into would ever be for you.

Something spiteful and angry brews in your stomach. All those sparkling, shiny gifts for two kids that weren’t even his. Hell, they weren’t even his step-children. You and Calum had never had a Christmas that looked like this. Your bitterness bubbles over when you consider that your dad never had a reason to lovebomb you both when you were already stuck with him anyway.

“Lots of presents for two kids,” you remark before you can talk yourself out of it. It’s a mistake to voice anything akin to negativity, though. You should know better by now, but the hurt of having to watch two other children live out the sort of childhood you’d never had was just too much.

“They’re good kids,” he snipes back pointedly. “And you better not say a fucking thing, either. I already told Denise we don’t exchange gifts like that, so nobody is gonna listen to your little pity party over no gifts. Got a damn roof over your head for free and you still find something to bitch about.”

“I wasn’t complaining! I was just saying it looked like a lot!”

“You need to quit running that mouth of yours, little girl,” he warns.

“Dad, I’m trying to say that if you got them more than Denise got them, it might make her feel bad,” you lie and clarify in an attempt to smooth things over.

He fixes you with a nasty smile and gestures to the gifts. “Guess what, genius? They’re from me AND Denise. Christ, you’re a real fuckin’ piece of work, you know that?”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment. There’s no way you would’ve known that, but you still somehow feel stupid anyway. The embarrassment quickly bleeds into resentment. “So, what? I’m supposed to sit here and watch two kids I don’t even know open gifts from people that aren’t me? That’s so weird, dad. Come on,” you huff.

You know this surge of indignation is only going to land you in hot water, but you can’t seem to stop your mouth from running a mile a minute. Perhaps you were bolstered by the fact that somewhere in your subconscious you knew he wouldn’t do anything - not today, at least - with their impending arrival. A wrecked house and a wounded daughter weren’t exactly what you wanted when you were trying to sell a fairytale to some woman.

“They’re going to be here within the hour. You have 20 minutes to get the fuck out of the house and stay gone until I tell you that you can come home. Do you understand?”

“What?! It’s Christmas! Everywhere is closed! Where am I supposed to go for half the day?!” you stammer

“That’s for you to figure out.”

“I’ll stay in my room, okay? I’ll shut the door, and they won’t even know that I’m—”

“No. You should’ve thought about that before being disrespectful and showing how fucking selfish you really are. You were too busy running your mouth instead of rubbing two brain cells you’ve got left in that heard of yours together to form a singular, smart choice. All I know is that I’m not gonna have you ruining this just like you ruin everything else. Get your shit and get out.”

He turns on his heel and stomps back to the kitchen. You scramble to your room to collect your wallet, your phones, your keys, a hoodie…. You grab whatever you think you might need that doesn’t weigh your backpack down too much.

You change into whatever clean pair of jeans and t-shirt you can scrounge up. You’re out the back door before your dad decides you shouldn’t come back until tomorrow or some other harsher punishment.

You don’t know where to go except for the office, and the entire bike ride there gives your mind nothing but time to whip itself into even more of a frenzy. Why couldn’t you just shut up this morning? Why did you let yourself be so surprised over his shitty attitude and hurtful words? Why hadn’t you just played along and kept the peace?

Your thoughts are a full-blown whirlwind by the time you get to the office. You punch in the wrong code at first and set off the alarm because of course you do. A new wave of panic slams into you when you remember that the system sends alerts to Joel’s phone and will call him to verify a false alarm. You get it together long enough to push in the right passcode, but you aren’t sure if the alert has already gone to Joel’s phone. You scurry inside and fish your work phone from your bag.

You: hey if you get an alert about the security system at the office it’s just me 🤦‍♀️ You: punched in the wrong code like an idiot You: merry xmas 😬

Your stomach drops when his contact picture takes up the whole screen.

“Hi, I’m sorry,” you groan.

“The hell are you doin’ up at the office? How the hell’d you even get there?” He sounds concerned and befuddled at the odd situation.

Your brain is fried from everything that’s already transpired thus far today, and you contrive some story about forgetting a gift at the office and trying to sneak out of the house and grab it real quick before anybody noticed you were missing.

“You biked all the way up there?” he sputters. “You shoulda called me, sweetheart. I woulda drove you!”

“Joel, it’s Christmas. I’m sure you’ve got stuff going on with your family just like I do with mine,” you lie.

“Not until later, but that don’t matter anyway. What’re you doin’ takin’ your bike that far? That’s not safe.” He sounds like he’s actually upset with you for once, and you can’t take it. Not today.

“Look, I’m extra careful, okay? Besides, I’m just popping in to get the gift and heading back out. It’s a quick trip.”

You hear keys jangling and the scoot of something against hardwood over the receiver. “You stay put. I’m comin’ to get you.”

“Nope, already on my way back out,” you lie again. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. I promise I’ll call you the next time, alright?” He doesn’t respond, and bile starts to lick up your throat. “Joel, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you. I’m just ignorin’ that ridiculous statement like I’m gonna let you bike all the way back home.”

“Joel, I’m in a rush! I gotta get this gift back home, alright? I’ve already got everything packed up and am heading out now. I appreciate the offer and everything, but I gotta go,” you assert in as firm a voice as you can manage. Your hands are shaking with the effort of keeping your nerves in check.

He grumbles something that doesn’t sound much like he approves before speaking clearly again. “Fine. You better text me when you get home safely, you hear me? I mean it. The second you get home.”

You hold back a sigh of relief and promise to text him when you get home. You practically crumple to the floor when the call ends, anxiety overwrought and mind going so fast it might as well be empty. You estimate how long it would take to bike home and text Joel once the window closes.

You: made it home You: sorry again about the alarm

Joel: It’s fine. Glad you made it home safely. Please don’t ever do that again! Call me next time!

You: ok ok I won’t! 😳

Joel: Good. See you in a couple of days. Joel: Merry Christmas, Pluck. Joel: 💚❤️

You: happy xmas Goob ❤️

Your limbs feel like they’re strapped to concrete blocks as you plod towards the back of the building to Joel’s office. His jacket hangs from the hook just inside the doorway. You pull it down and take it with you as you cuddle up in one of his plushier chairs. You bury your face in the smell of him until you’re able to drift off and forget about your life for a little while.

Sleep had been elusive over the past couple of nights, most hours spent tossing and turning with the events of Christmas playing on loop in your head. It was the cherry on top of the shit sundae to come home later that evening and learn that your dad had proposed to Denise with a big, flashy ring. Just another way of making it clear that you weren’t worthy of his resources and attention and that he was steadily building a new life. A life without you. A life that left you behind, just like everyone else always did.

You push away the nagging thought that money from your account was put towards the ring as you sit waiting for Joel to pick you up. You look awful, no doubt about it. He wouldn’t say anything, but you were sure he’d notice.

You’d never felt like it was work to be around Joel, but keeping all of these disruptive changes to yourself felt like a unique sort of agony. He grew more attuned to your moods and feelings the more time you spent together, and, while that had once felt like a breath of fresh air to not have to explain every single little thing to someone for once, it now feels like a cloud over your head that you have to duck to avoid.

His truck rumbles up the driveway and comes to a stop. He’s out the door and opening yours before you make it down the front steps. You misjudge his body language and go in for a hug. It’s clear you’d misread it with all your inner thoughts flying every which way when he lets out a surprised little exhale. He quickly recovers, though, and wraps his arms around you with a quick, smoothing pass of his palm against your back. It’s like your subconscious needed this, needed the closeness and stability of him, and puppetted you into his broad, solid frame.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he hums.

“Morning.” You step back and rub a nervous hand along the nape of your neck and climb into the truck.

His mood feels buoyant and light, like the interior of the truck is five times bigger just from trying to contain such a vibrant air in such a small space. You latch onto it and siphon as much as you can into your own mood.

“So, did ya get anything good?” he asks, eyes glittery with something eager.

“Oh, mostly gift cards,” you bluff. “I’m sort of hard to buy for I guess.”

His eyes slide over to you in a dubious slant, but he doesn’t comment. “Hm, so whatcha gonna get yourself?”

You weren’t expecting the question, and it makes you hesitate. “Oh. Um. Not sure yet.”

“Hm.”

“Um, did you get anything good?”

“S’gonna sound cheesy, but the best thing I got was just gettin’ to spend some down time with family. Got to see Sarah and Ben for a little bit longer than I expected, so that was real nice.”

You’re aware of your rapid, unnatural blinking, but your brain feels like it’s short circuited a bit. You aren’t sure how much more you can handle talking about family right now, especially if it was the warm and fuzzy kind of bond.

“That’s cool,” you offer up weakly.

Joel’s face flickers confusion, but again he doesn’t remark on your reserved conversation. “So, what did ya have to bike back with anyway?”

“What?”

“The gift? You went up to the office to get a gift, but you never said what it was. I was hopin’ it wasn’t too big for you to lug back since, you know, somebody wouldn’t let me drive them home.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. The fake gift for your dad. The dregs of your mental fluidity and deftness weren’t producing a convincing answer like they so often did when you found yourself in need of some believable excuse or story.

“Book,” you blurt out.

“A book?”

“No. Um. A few books. A series,” you stutter.

You suddenly feel wide awake now and on edge at the flimsy alibi that just tumbled from your mouth. Even a series of books could’ve been hidden at your own house. There’s no reason to have them stored at the office. You’ll just have to say you forgot it.

Wait, isn’t that what you’d already told him? You’d told him something already when he spoke with you on the phone that day. Had you said you were storing it there on purpose and had just forgotten it? What lie had you already fed him?

Joel sits in a contemplative silence as he drives you to the office. “What’s the series called?”

It’s an unassuming question, but you feel the probing connotation beneath it. He was fishing for something. He was suspicious. You weren’t lying well enough.

“Um, The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly.”

You don’t know why your brain went with a Western that you vaguely remember watching as a young kid, but now you’re stuck with it.

His lips purse, and he clicks his tongue softly as he turns into the parking lot. “Never knew they were books.”

“Oh, yeah. The movies are from the books. John Wayne was a huge fan of them. I’m pretty sure that’s why he got involved with the movies. Turned out to be a pretty good move, I think. Launched him into fame for sure. Staple cowboy from then on.”

“Well aren’t you just a trivia trove,” he chuckles.

You shrug and force a smile. Your heart stops pounding so hard when it seems like he’s moving away from the topic. You can’t believe you managed to remember so many details about the series. Conversation shifts into easy small talk as you both head inside. You just about descend into a panic again when Joel asks you to step into his office for a minute. Had you left his jacket out? Had you not put the furniture back the right way? You’d been so careful when you were leaving to make sure nothing was out of place.

“Is everything okay? Did I do some–”

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the shiny blue bike propped against Joel’s desk. He’s beaming and holding his arms out like he’s presenting a prize on a gameshow. He adds a little tah-dah! for good measure.

“What is that?”

“Merry Christmas.” His smile is impossibly wider. “It’s a few days late, but, yeah. Little Miss I’m Too Hard To Shop For. Pppfffftttt. Think I did pretty good, huh?”

Your mouth doesn’t work. Your tongue isn’t cooperating. Your lungs are taut and fixed.

“Are you serious? This is–Is this for me?” you breathe.

“Yep,” he replies plainly with an emphasized pop on the P. “D’ya like it?”

You inch towards it and don’t even want to mess it up by touching it. “This is too mu–”

“We ain’t doin’ all that, so you can cut that short,” he interrupts.

You’re shaking your head when he grabs something from his desk. “Sorry it’s not wrapped.”

Your eyes bug out at the small box of bluetooth headphones he handed you.

“Sarah said it should connect with the work phone, and once we get some apps on there you can use my password. I don’t got all of ‘em, but I think there’s a pretty good selection.”

“What?” you ask a little breathlessly.

“Streaming apps or whatever. You know, movies. You said you wanna watch more movies, so you can just pop the headphones on and watch it from the phone this way. Won’t be too loud and all that for your house. Figure between the two of us we can figure out how to get all of it set up.”

He rocks on the balls of his feet before leaning against the desk. Your mouth feels like you’ve been chewing sandpaper. “But… I.. didn’t get you anything?”

“So?”

“I didn’t get you anything. And-And you got me something, though.”

“Yeah, I got you somethin’ because I wanted to. Don’t need anything in return. And I’m the boss, so I’m callin’ it boss privilege that you can’t feel bad about it. It’s against the rules.” He folds his arms across his chest and grins at you, all boyish and clearly pleased with himself.

You’re still shaking your head when he stands upright again and pokes at your side. “C’mon. Let’s see you take a spin on this thing before everybody else gets here. I’ll load it up in the truck after so we can get it home today.”

You’re stunned into silence at his persistence that you enjoy this – just let it feel good for once. He walks the bike out of the office and calls over his shoulder to you. “Give you five bucks if you can pop a wheelie on this thing!”

His goofy challenge spurs a laugh to bubble out of you. You feel lighter, like each breathy laugh had expelled part of the weight you’d been shouldering lately. You jog to catch up with him. “Make it ten and you’ve got a deal,” you bargain.

He smiles wide at you and agrees.

“Are you sure you can’t walk in the sparkly ones?” Kenzie asks for the fifth time.

“I dunno, Kenzie. Do you want to deal with me spraining my ankle or falling on my ass halfway through this thing?” you lob back at her pointedly. “Besides, the tights have rhinestones all over them. That’s plenty of sparkles.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Fine. Just saying they would be a lot cuter.”

You’re well aware that the almost flat “heel” of hers you’d decided on wasn’t the most sexy pair of shoes to go with the staticky, clingy dress you’d picked from her closet, but you didn’t want to spend your entire New Year’s Eve worrying about looking like a newborn giraffe every time you had to walk. Then again, this event was sure to have plenty of stumbling drunk people, so maybe if you did wobble here and there you’d fit in just fine.

“What was the theme again?”

“I think Monte Carlo or Casino Royale or something. I dunno. It’s not even real gambling since that’s illegal in Texas or whatever, so it’s just like you can earn chips to put towards a raffle or something. I have no idea. I just know we’re gonna be with the Double Phoenix setup most of the night,” she explains.

She applied a heavy swipe of glittery shadow to her lids and leaned back to assess her work. Seeming pleased with it, she started on the other.

“I’m not even planning on drinking to be honest since this is sorta like a work thing. I mean, I’m not, like, technically with the company or this account, but I could be. It’s sort of weird with the whole internship thing. I think it’s like a test or something, so we gotta make sure we’re paying attention.”

“And Double Phoenix is the name of the company?” you clarify.

You wanted to get this right for her. It wasn’t often that you were invited out for things like this. Turns out your more sober tendencies were perfect for something like this since Kenzie was approaching it as a networking opportunity rather than a wild night of partying on somebody else’s dime.

“I don’t know what the parent company is called, but the vodka is called Double Phoenix. I guess after Logan and Charlie – that’s who we’re gonna be with most of the night. It’s their first alcohol brand or whatever. Just coasting off the success of Trial By Fire to be honest, but don’t tell them I said that.”

You don’t even know enough about Trial By Fire – the dating game reality show Logan and Charlie had been on that saw them rise to fame quickly as fan favorite “loveable bad boys” – to even say anything about it, but, regardless, you assure Kenzie that you won’t tell them all the disparaging remarks she’s made about them. You busy yourself with putting your hair back in a few glittery clips while she finishes up her makeup. You opted for as little as possible so you wouldn’t accidentally rub your eyes or lips and smudge all of her hard work.

You mess around with your hair for a little bit until you get the half up half down look presentable enough. You turn your head to catch the light on the sparkly claw clip Kenzie insisted you had to wear. The little dangly fringe pieces glittered in the light whenever you moved your head, much like the little crystal dangly bow earrings she’d shoved into your ears. “It ties together with the bow shoes you picked,” she’d said. You inspect the black velvet slingback pumps and their neat little bow on the back of your heel.

You take the opportunity to assess the entire look in the full length mirror when Kenzie wanders into her bathroom for god knows what. She was smaller than you, but the black cinched dress had a little bit of give.

“Is there, like, a fancy cardigan or something that goes with this?” you ask. “I feel like I’m gonna get cold.”

Based on Kenzie’s reaction, you would’ve thought you’d just asked her to name every single pope in chronological order while jump roping to the beat of deli meat going through a slicer. Her mouth is hanging open in what you think is disgust but might also be a heavy dose of disbelief.

“A cardigan?” she chokes.

“Can you not?” you half-heartedly snip. “It’s not outrageous to just wanna be warm, Kenzie.”

She sighs and shakes her head, hands raised to the side like she’s doing a quick meditation for the distress you’d put her in.

“Babe. Babe,” she starts. She takes a deep breath and looks at you as if she’s trying to reason with some wild animal who’s stumbled upon her picnic in the woods.

“What keeps us warm are the thoughts of how bomb we’re gonna look in the pics, okay?” she says slowly and clearly like she’s explaining a difficult math problem. “No cardigans. This isn’t study hall, babes. We’re gonna work with nothing but these cute as hell ‘fits, okay?”

“Oh my god,” you grumble under your breath. It was bad enough this dress didn’t have pockets, which meant you had to carry a tiny purse (called a clutch for some reason), but now you were gonna be cold, too.

“It’s one night of sacrifice for an eternity of hot pics, okay? When you’re, like, 87 you’ll be able to look back and say ‘thank you, god, for giving me a friend like Kenzie who didn’t let me ruin my Hot Girl Outfit with a librarian’s jacket’,” she proclaims like she’s the Shaman of Thirst Traps.

You snort and roll your eyes but can’t hide the emerging grin on your face. “Yeah yeah. Fine. You’re the expert.”

She claps her hands together victoriously and lets out a dramatic exhale. “Ugh, yes. Finally, you get it. Let me be your guide, okay? Besides, I bet you won’t be complaining when you send Joel a little pic and get his reaction.”

“Um, no?” you sputter. “I’m not sending Joel of picture of myself in all this. He’s gonna know it’s all borrowed, anyway. I would never have the nerve to buy or wear something like this on my own.”

“Um, yes?” she argues back. “Ain’t nothing borrowed about you in that outfit, okay? It’s giving very much ‘I own this’ energy, okay?”

Your chest feels warm and light at the genuine compliments, and you can’t help but agree with her a little. You do feel pretty cute even though you’re not really used to dressing up and going out like this. It felt nice to do nothing but primp and preen yourself for the past couple of hours.

Even Kenzie had an air of excitement about it since this was her first time venturing into a dressy work event. You’d seen plenty of pictures of her “in her heyday” with strappy, tight dresses that showed every bit of glistening skin that was legal to have on display. She looked incredible in all of them, of course, but it wasn’t exactly what came to mind when you thought about career networking.

“You picked really nice outfits.” You shoot her a warm smile that grows wider when she returns the gesture.

“Okay, I was totally freaking out about it, too. Like, obviously I am gonna look good no matter what, but I was so worried that I was gonna end up looking like an Amish lady or something,” she laments.

You can’t help the abrupt guffaw that fills the entire room. “You’re literally wearing a brown sequin minidress with poofy sleeves, Kenzie. I don’t really know how you could be worried about looking Amish in that.”

“First of all, it’s chocolate burgundy. Secondly, they’re ostrich feathers,” she corrects with pretend insolence. “And last of all, I didn’t even have to search through my underwear drawer to find a pair that wouldn’t show in this dress, so that’s basically Amish for me.”

You both crack up at her ridiculous parallels as you check yourselves in the mirror side by side. You might not be as glitzy as she is, but you both go together somehow in a nice little balanced image.

“Okay, let’s go to the backyard to get some pics,” she announces as she snatches your work phone and her phone and prances out the door.

You indulge all the stylized, practiced poses that Kenzie makes as you have a mini photoshoot for her. You smile every time she switches into a new angle and posture. It’s so silly for her to do so many different ones when she looks good in every single picture. She’d argue with you over that, of course. When she declares that it’s your turn to take pictures, you oblige with a few standard poses, which she immediately rejects and insists that you “loosen up a little bit.”

She does manage to get you to genuinely laugh when she retells the story about how your old boss Jeremy most definitely had a lover’s quarrel in the middle of the cereal aisle with what could only be a friend of his grandmother’s or a sugar grandmomma. He’d been so embarrassed even though you both wouldn’t have had anything nasty or negative to say about it. A few “eat me out, sonny boy” jokes between yourselves, sure, but nothing to his face.

“Okay, just a few more.”

She fiddles with the settings on your phone, explaining to you how your flash exposure wasn’t set right and other jargon you don’t fully understand, and takes a few more photos once she’s made the necessary adjustments.

“AAAAnnndddd, done!”

“I don’t even post anywhere, Kenz. I don’t know why I need so many pics,” you protest.

She just shrugs and sports a shit eating grin, which you don’t understand until you receive a notification on your phone that Joel has texted you. The mortification takes hold the second you open to the text thread and see that Kenzie had sent him several of the photos she’d taken of you.

Joel: WOW! Joel: 🤯 Joel: Where are you going dressed to the nines like that?

You: omg I am SO SORRY my stupid friend sent those to you like an idiot You: she’s such a moron sorry You: idek who she was trying to send those to

Joel: I like the pictures. They’re really nice. 👍 Joel: You look like you’re already having a good time. Joel: You have a ride set up for tonight? Lots of dangerous drivers on NYE.

You: we’re not drinking but also Kenz ordered us an Uber

Joel: Okay well please text or call if you need a ride. I’ll be up. Joel: Be safe and have a fun time! Joel: 🪩🥳🥂💃🕺

You smile down at your phone and giggle. You’ll remember to be upset at Kenzie in a minute.

You: I will 🫡 You: are you staying home the whole night?

Joel: Yep. Tommy is probably gonna come around for a bit, but otherwise I’ll just be watching TV or something. Too old to be out there partying. Might throw my back out if I tried to dance to the popular stuff.

You: lol I would pay so much money to see that

Joel: I bet you would, ya little punk.

You: 😇

Joel: Okay, angel. And you never said where you were going.

You: here 📍

You attach a link to the venue where Kenzie said the event was being held. You explain the circumstances of it because it’s a lot nicer of a place than most twenty somethings would probably go, especially for such a big party night like New Year’s Eve.

Joel: Pretty nice place. Looked it up on Facebook. Says it’s a charity casino night. Invite only. 😵💰🎰

You: yeah idk we’re just gonna be there with this vodka brand from Kenzie’s work You: she does this marketing internship thing and this vodka is a client

Joel: Fancy. Already sounds like y’all are some high rollers. 😎

You: lol maybe Kenz is. im just the plus one You: you should see her outfit then maybe you’d know what i mean 💀

Joel: Nah, you got sparkle tights. That’s the winner right there.

You: wow a fashionista too is there anything can’t you do?

Joel: Yeah, I already told you. Dance ha ha. Joel: 👴🏼

You: i highly doubt that but ok You: we gotta leave in a few but ill text if i need anything

You punch in a heart emoji but hesitate for a split second before throwing caution to the wind and sending it anyway. Your entire body warms at his reply.

You: 💖 Joel: 🥰❤️ Joel: I’ll be thinking about you. Joel: Be safe. ❤️

You: i will 💖 You: happy new years in case i don’t see you sooner

Joel: Happy New Year’s, and I hope you see me sooner rather than later. Want to start my year off right. ❤️

You’re too giddy from texting with Joel to truly be upset with Kenzie, a fact she relishes in the entire Uber ride to the venue. You still feel light as air as you make your way to the Double Phoenix display area and meet the two guys associated with it — Charlie and Logan.

You quickly see why Kenzie hadn’t had a lot of positive things to say about them both even though they weren’t patently terrible right off the bat. Maybe to most people the plastered smiles and forced carefree attitudes would distract long enough to hide the truth of their actual personalities, but you were a little more used to getting a quick grasp on people.

Charlie was younger, but you wouldn’t have known that from all the cosmetic procedures he’d had done. His face didn’t even match with the version featured in all the promotional materials with their images on them. An unnaturally chiseled jaw, lips that seemed plumped and deflated all at once, a marshmallowy cheekbone, and eyebrows that didn’t move enough. It all combined into some strange, plasticine version of a man.

Logan had leaned into the rugged and handsome look quite well, but his teeth were remarkably white to the point that it contrasted with the rest of his visuals. You wanted to laugh at how forced it all was. You knew rugged and handsome well. Joel Miller was the end all, be all to rugged and handsome in your humblest of opinions, and he actually had the life experience that made it authentic. Men hadn’t ever really been much of your “type” - especially not the overtly masculine ones - but of course that had changed fairly recently.

You were grateful that they both zeroed in on Kenzie’s attention and left you to wander close by for a few minutes. The glowing neon and sleek black everything made the entire venue hum with a sort of subdued electricity. You’re sure once the event actually begins and people start showing up that it’ll take on a life of its own as the background to a perfect night of revelry.

You lost track of time for a while as you meandered through the various setups. You can’t begin to guess how much all of this costs to produce and put on. You know without a doubt that you could never afford to get in. With Kenzie’s borrowed outfit, you don’t appear too out of place, and you try to work with the feigned confidence of someone who belonged here. By the time you make it back to the Double Phoenix setup, Kenzie is shooting you where the fuck have you been?! eyes, and you give her an apologetic grimace.

“Ah, there she is!” Charlie booms. He sounded like he’d been sampling the goods, and the stack of empty shot glasses scattered around the tables only lent to that hypothesis. A few frantic looking waitstaff scurried around with rags and fresh glasses. “You wanna do a shot?”

Your face scrunched, reluctant and put off. “No thanks, I’m good for right now. Maybe later.”

“Oh, come onnnnnnn,” he huffs. “It’s fuckin’ New Years! Live a little! Come on, just do a shot.” He starts spinning in almost comedic half-circles in search of shot glasses and liquor. Kenzie is looking a lot like she’s got a headache brewing – but not from any bottom shelf vodka shots. “Tell your friend to knock the sand outta her vagina and take a fuckin’ shot, Kenny!”

“It’s Kenzie, and that’s not a very—”

Logan, who appeared just as sober as when you’d left them all, stepped up with a crooked grin and patted his friend’s shoulder. “Definitely just getting the night started, right? No need to rush a good time, Tank.” He glances over to you and winks, and you think he means to convey that he’s stepping in between you and his rude, pushy friend.

Charlie snorts and taps Logan’s face with a loose, goofy smile. “You’re right, man. Just so fuckin’ PUMPED for this brand, dude!”

Kenzie scoots around to you and guides you away from the front of the setup so you can speak more privately. “This guy is an asshole!” she hisses.

“Yeah, is he seriously already drunk?” you scoff. You note the heavy smell of alcohol on her breath and raise an eyebrow. “Exactly how many shots did y’all even have? You don’t even do shots of vodka, do you?” The last part of the question is up several octaves in uncertainty. Maybe you weren’t a big drinker, but you knew enough that downing shots of vodka was sort of an “alcoholic activity.”

She rolls her eyes and grips onto your elbows. “It tastes so bad,” she groans. “It’s supposed to be ‘so good you don’t need to mix it.’ I honestly underestimated how good of an actor Logan is because he barely even made a face when we were all taking a shot for their Instagram Story. And Charlie? I don’t even think he cares to be honest. He would probably drink hand sanitizer if it gave him a buzz.”

“That’s really sad,” you reply in a low, gloomy tone.

She responds in kind with a cheerless shrug and nod. “I told Logan that we could do a few more shots with some of the bigger local names so they could put it on their socials, but I said we should definitely be cutting Charlie’s shots with water. He was surprisingly cool with it and thanked me for looking out for him.”

“Yeah, that’s smart,” you agree. “How many did you do already? How many are you going to do? I thought you weren’t planning on drinking?”

You try to keep the nerves from creeping into your questions, but a tremor or two slip through. You really, really didn’t want to end up the sole sober person in a room full of rowdy, drunk partygoers. It was more of an upscale setting, but that was never a guarantee that things wouldn’t get sloppy.

“I’ve only had two, don’t sweat it,” she assures you. “I’m totally good to take a few more, especially if they’re spread out.”

“Okay, just be careful. That Charlie guy seems a little aggressive.”

“I think he just likes to party.” She shrugs and eyes the two men who don’t seem to have noticed your side conversation yet. “C’mon, let’s get back before they see we’ve snuck off.”

Kenzie wrangles Charlie into doing a few staged photos around the setup – you assume before he gets even more drunk and won’t photograph well – and Logan strikes up some easy conversation with passersby before wandering back over to you. He shoots you another apologetic grin and holds a hand up in an awkward wave.

“Hey, listen, I’m sorry about Tank. He gets a little nervous for these types of events sometimes and hits the bottle a little early and a little too heavy,” he explains.

“Tank? Why’s he called ‘Tank’?”

He flushes with a sheepish grin and admits it’s from “one crazy weekend” where he repeatedly wound up in a “drunk tank.”

Your nose scrunches and pulls against your unimpressed frown. “Charming. Sort of goes with the whole telling women they have sand in their private parts thing he’s got going on.”

He squints and grimaces. “That was totally out of line. I’m really sorry.”

You sigh and let your shoulders slink down. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding them so high and tight. “I guess it’s not your fault he’s got a problem.”

“No, it’s not my fault, but I should probably do a better job of stepping in before he goes around disrespecting women.”

He scratches the back of his neck and looks off. He mindlessly watches the crowds of people walking by the setup and waves to a few before turning back to you.

“Well, uh, I’m Logan. Just in case you didn’t– um, you know, didn’t catch it before. And I, uh, hope you have a good time with Double Phoenix tonight even if it started out a little rocky.”

He sounds genuinely embarrassed by his friend. Maybe you’d misjudged him at first. You give him the benefit of the doubt and a small smile. He flushes again and busies himself with chatting up some local DJ who stopped by to do a promo shot with the brand.

It’s much the same for the next hour and a half, except you notice that Logan and Kenzie both have taken several shots with numerous local celebrities. Logan at least has enough sense to remind everyone to drink water in between and munch on something. He goes around and checks on the waitstaff to make sure everything is running smoothly. You think without his legitimate interest in this brand, Kenzie would be running in circles trying to keep things on track.

You pull your work phone from your clutch. It’s somehow only 9:00pm. You suppose you had arrived before the event even started, so it’d been at least 3 hours of this. You can’t imagine another 3, but you’ll push through it for Kenzie’s sake. You’re about to tap on the messaging app to see if Joel had sent anything when a shadow passes over the screen. You look up to see a more lax Logan smiling down at you.

“Event's that boring huh?” Yeah, he’s definitely a little drunker than when you’d last talked.

You look around for Kenzie and spot her talking animatedly to some random woman in the brightest neon green dress you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Oh, I was just checking the time to make sure Kenzie was still on track,” you bluff.

“Gotcha, gotcha.” He nods and runs a hand through his hair. “So, uh, you want a drink or anything? I can just get you a soda or something if you didn’t want to try the vodka.”

Something about the way he says it sounds like he’s already disappointed at what he thinks your answer will be. You feel bad, but you don’t know why.

“Listen, I know it’s not, like, the bestest there is, but I think we did a pretty good job of it. I’d love to hear what you think of it,” he hedges.

One shot won’t kill you you remind yourself. You shrug and agree to a single shot with a sugary chaser. He beams like a golden retriever and lopes off to grab your drinks. You smile at his back as he runs off. It’s sort of cute how excited he seems. Maybe he really did give a shit about all this and had to deal with a business partner who didn’t do much of the legwork. He’s back shortly with a canned soda and two double shots for each of you.

“Whoa, that’s way too much!”

He stares blankly at you for a second and then shakes his head like he realizes he’d gotten double shots. “Shit, that’s my bad. Hold on, I can—” He turns to look for somewhere to dump part of your shot out.

“Look, I’ll just have half, okay? You can have the rest or throw it out or whatever. Or give it to Charlie. I dunno.”

He laughs at that and gives you a cheers. You swallow down a little more than half by accident, and you think it must’ve been the shock at how god awful the taste is. Whatever Kenzie had said, it was ten times worse. You choke your one and a half shots down and grab for the canned soda, snapping the tab open and chugging down several large gulps. The sting of the vodka still burns as you watch Logan down your half shot as well as his two doubles. Your eyebrows shoot into your hairline at the amount he’s downing in one go.

“Aren’t you gonna get sick?” you sputter.

He giggles a bit and takes the soda from your hand, downing the rest of it. “Eh, I’ve done all the brand commitment stuff. I’m sort of off the clock now.”

You blink at him and wonder how the hell that’s supposed to explain how he’s not going to be throwing up in about 15 minutes.

“You make me nervous,” he giggles.

He leans in a little, only to list backwards and wave a hand in the air. He erupts into a fit of laughter and covers his face with his hands.

“Christ, I’m so sorry. I’ve been wanting to tell you all night how beautiful you look, but I didn’t really feel like there was a good opening after, you know, Charlie went and talked about your sandy vagina.”

His eyes bug out like he realizes what he’s said, and he slaps a hand over his mouth. It might be the alcohol surging into your bloodstream, but you laugh at how ridiculous it all is. He chortles behind his hand and flushes a million shades of red.

“Fuck, I am so fucking sorry,” he gasps. “I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful, and then I just said sandy vagina and I’m really really sorry, and I’m, like, very sure your vagina is probably perfectly fine and doesn’t have any sand in it.”

You giggle even harder at his distressed stream of consciousness. “I-Well, thanks and all, but I’m – I don’t really mix business and personal, you know?”

He nods like he perfectly understands your position. He puts his hands up in surrender and gives you a sort of bow before kissing your hand. “I’m– I understand. Definitely. No worries at all. And thanks for trying the vodka even though it’s shitty.”

You laugh loudly at that and wave him off. He chuckles to himself and strolls over to the bar area. You take your time walking to Kenzie, who jumps up and down when she sees you. Not wasted, but definitely not sober.

“That vodka tastes fucking awful!”

She grabs your forearm like you’d just said the most profound thing she’s ever heard. “Yesssssssss ohmygod.”

You hug onto her for support as she whispers in your ear about how she’s got a really good feeling about the impression she’s made with the brand and how this could be a huge opportunity for her. You commiserate together how nasty the taste is but both agree that she sort of had to do shots for social media unless she wanted it to look like she didn’t enjoy it. She snorts and rolls her eyes when you relay the flirty, drunken conversation that Logan tried to have.

“He probably isn’t used to being turned down,” she posits. “S'prolly good for him to hear 'no' every once in a while.”

You giggle and lean against the counter for more support. You felt very warm now – cardigan debate all but forgotten – and a bit like you need to pee. Knowing the extra effort it’s going to take for you to get the tights down enough to use the bathroom, you excuse yourself sooner rather than later.

Everything is a lively haze of big energy as you make your way to the bathrooms. One of the main raffles is taking place, so you don’t even have to wait in line. You eye yourself in the mirror and think you still look pretty good. The little bit of alcohol you had is in full effect now, and you hope it starts to ebb soon.

You make your way out of the restroom and stumble when you hear the excited cheers from the main dancehall. Someone must’ve won something big. You lean against the wall for a minute until you feel more certain these shoes won’t cause any issues.

“Sneaky, sneaky thing,” Logan giggles from beside you.

You jump at the sudden voice coming from the dimly lit hallway. “Jesus christ you scared me,” you hiss.

“Sorry sorry. Just had to take a leak and then had to sit down for a minute. Mighta had too much.”

He seems bigger somehow even though he’s slanted to one side. Maybe the alcohol making him so loose was also making him seem unrestrained, too. “Soooooo, you coulda just asked me to follow ya know?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he saunters closer.

“Huh?”

“Earlier? You said you weren’t interested, but-but- and then I see you sneaking off to the bathrooms. Coulda just asked me to follow you, and I woulda.”

“No thanks,” you exhale.

“C’mon you don’t gotta put up a front, 'kay? Your friend won’t get jealous if she doesn’t see us, right?”

“What are you talking about?” you groan.

His body is up against yours, pressing you into the wall. “Let’s mix up a little business with a little pleasure,” he purrs. Your entire body freezes up, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “It’ll feel real good I promise.”

“Logan, there’s been a misunderstanding,” you insist. “M’not interested in–”

“Ssshhhhh,” he coos. “You can quit pretending. Be good 'n I’ll let you take a pic during to show all your friends, 'kay?”

“Get off me, you creep!” you hiss with a shove, but his body doesn’t budge. Another round of applause and cheering comes from the main hall.

“Let'sssssee,” he slurs. His thigh parts your legs just as his hands go underneath the sides of your skirt to grope your ass. “What kinda panties you got on?” He starts to lift your skirt above your hips when you knee his groin with as much force as you can. He doubles over and staggers backward. He chokes out bitch! a few times before vomiting all over the floor. You hurry away to find Keznzie, heart beating a million times a minute. She’s at the bar doing yet another stupid shot.

Between her drunkenness and your flustering, it takes several agonizing moments before she grasps what you’re saying – that you’ve been assaulted by somebody and left him on the ground near the restrooms. She’s looking around for security and asking you what the guy looks like. You tell her again it was Logan. Her body stops mid-movement like some sort of eerie robot that’s been unplugged. She blinks a few times like she misheard you.

“Logan? Logan Logan?”

“Yes!” you practically shriek.

She’s hesitating now, no longer hellbent on finding security, and you can’t figure out why. Where had all her urgency gone? Why had her entire mood just shifted? Why wasn’t she comforting you?

Then her eyes meet yours, and you see it. The reluctance to make a fuss over it because of who it was. The mental math to calculate that it wasn’t right what he’d done but that it hadn’t “gone too far” and he hadn’t “gone all the way” with it. The hesitation to hold off on involving security if this all sounded like a drunken misunderstanding between two people that didn’t need to be escalated. The sort of “mistake” that could be fixed with a few sober apologies.

“Kenzie…..," you whisper.

Like she’s on a sinking ship that’s quickly taking on too much water, she shakes her head and grabs your upper arms to pull you closer. “This will blow all my chances with this brand and maybe even the job.”

Her eyes are pleading for you to understand the position she’s in, what all she has to lose by taking up for you in this moment, and the gut wrenching realization that you’re not worth it to her begins to sink in. She sways a little on the spot and hiccups.

“He’s–He’s prolly so drunk he doesn’t even know what he was doing,” she pleads.

“You sure you’re not so drunk you don’t know what you’re saying?” you snap back. “Because I’m pretty sure a bad friend would tell you to drop it when somebody just had their hands all on you.”

Her nostrils flare at the accusation. “Well maybe a bad friend would make her best friend lose her whole future just because some guy felt up her butt, like that doesn’t happen all the time on the bus and in clubs and, and, and everywhere!”

“All you care about is yourself!” you hurl at her.

You turn on your heel and stomp your way to the exit. Tears blur the edges of your vision, but you’re enough of a mess that people sort of make way for you until you emerge from the building and into the cool night air.

You’re shaking. Your brain is a soupy mess as the alcohol starts to wear off. You pull out your work phone from your clutch. It flashes 9:48. How on earth had so much gone so wrong so quickly?

You fumble through some of the apps and end up downloading several rideshare apps, but they’re all crazy expensive because of the holiday. You can’t risk that large of a transaction showing up and your dad seeing it. You’re not even sure how far of a walk it would be to get home, but you don’t want to go home, either. Your dad was probably out, but you didn't want to risk it.

You shiver and stare at the homescreen.

If you needed someone to show up, I’d show up.

That’s what Joel had said after that guy confronted you in the parking lot. And then tonight he’d said to call if you needed a ride or anything. You don’t have much of a choice, but even if you did, you’d still choose Joel.

You find his contact and hit call.

The influx of pictures of you all dressy and smiles was the perfect distraction. He’d been mulling over the lies he’d caught you in, and it was making his head buzz.

You’d lied about the gift for your dad. Clint Eastwood — not John Wayne, like you’d claimed - had starred in The Dollars Trilogy. A Fistful of Dollars, A Few Dollars More, and The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. All screenplays, never books. He’d grown up watching enough Westerns to know that much.

That was plenty of proof that you weren’t being entirely upfront with him, but he didn’t understand why. When he went into the security system profile and checked Christmas day, his heart sunk when it showed you hadn’t left when you claimed and in fact didn’t set the alarm again until several hours later.

He tries not to take it personally that you were lying through your teeth over very strange things, but it was hurtful and made him feel a little foolish for some reason. He knew in his gut that you were an honest person, so he could only assume the only other thing that made sense was that you didn’t trust him, which stung in a particularly painful way.

At this rate, he didn’t believe that you even got any gift cards. You didn’t give the impression that you gave much thought to your own wants and needs. It’s like it’s been drilled into your head to put yourself last every time.

He sighed and flipped through the pictures you’d sent — or, rather, your friend had sent on your behalf. The one where you were smiling the biggest was a little blurry, but it was his favorite nonetheless. He’d set it as his homescreen background without a second thought.

He was letting himself get lost in how stunning you looked in the photos when a call popped up. It was you. After the surprise of receiving a call from you wore off, he hit answer and pressed the phone to his ear.

“Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”

“Um,” you sniff. “N-Not really.”

His whole body goes rigid at the sound of your trembling voice. “What happened? Where are you?”

“Um, I’m still at that same place I sent earlier. Do you— Can you come get me?”

He’s snatching up his keys and starting his truck in a flash. He stays on the line with you until his headlights reflect and sparkle across the glitter on your tights. He hops out and gives you a quick once over, looking for some sort of hurt. He draws you up into a hug and helps you into the truck.

“What happened?” he breathes.

“Just, um, had a fight with my friend.”

“Is she okay in there? Does she have a ride home? Is she hurt?”

As honorable as his concern for Kenzie’s safety and wellbeing was, something about it irked you. She hadn’t given you any support, so why on earth did she deserve any? Maybe being drunk and left to deal with those jerks on her own would change her perspective. Maybe Logan would hurt her, too, and then she’d have a different opinion on what constituted a big enough violation to be addressed. You instantly feel guilty for thinking it, but the anger doesn’t entirely subside.

“She’s fine,” you grumble. “I don’t really wanna talk about it if that’s okay.”

“Sure, of course,” he soothes. “Let’s just get you home, yeah?”

“I don’t wanna go home,” you whisper, fidgeting with your hands in your lap.

“Okay, sweetheart. You don’t hafta go home. You can come stay with me, alright? Is that okay?”

You nod. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Of course. Of course ya can,” he insists.

The drive to his house is quiet, and he keeps stealing glances your direction. You keep your eyes fixed on the road, fearing that looking him directly in the eye again will crumble all your resolve and you’ll fall into a million pieces and tell him everything – all the rotting, ugly truths of your secret life.

He pulls into the drive and helps you out of the truck and into the house. You let him lead you as you walk unevenly in your heels. He guides you to the living room couch and slips your shoes off. He gives your feet a firm, kneading rub when you wince.

“Feet hurt?”

“Yeah.”

He massages them for a few beats, and you realize it probably hurts his knees to be bent on the floor like that.

“You hungry?”

“Yeah.”

He leads you upstairs and shows you the guest bedroom — Sarah’s old room that still had a lot of her personal decorations and items throughout. He leaves you for a moment and returns from his room with a pair of drawstring sweatpants and a button up flannel. He asks if you need anything for a shower, and, despite feeling utterly drained, the thought of washing this day off you is too appealing to turn down.

He digs around the hallway bathroom, which you learn was Sarah’s once upon a time, and pulls various toiletry items out from the cabinet. While there aren’t any shower specific items, there is a bottle of cosmetics remover and a roll of cotton pads, and you gather them up alongside the borrowed pajamas to take with you to Joel’s bathroom.

He gives you a quick rundown on how the shower works and leaves it running before slipping out the door to give you privacy. His heavy footsteps descend the stairs, and you’re struck by how alone you suddenly feel. You carefully extract yourself from Kenzie’s dress and tights and set them on the vanity. You strip away your undergarments and toss them into a pile near the corner.

You don’t bother adjusting the temperature of the water. You leave it just how he’d left it running for you, and it beats down onto your itchy, too tight skin with a purging heat. You lather in his soaps and shampoo and feel like you can breathe easier with it fogging up around you. It felt safe. Your hands dip to your hips, groin, and backside, and you hesitate for a moment before rushing through the area. You can still feel Logan’s insistent hands on you.

You rinse off and drip dry for a few seconds. The dry, fluffy towels wrapped around you make things feel normal again for a fleeting moment. The cosmetics remover and cotton pads clear away the streaking mascara and flecks of makeup left behind. You look in the mirror at your naked body and feel like you should be able to see the traces of unwelcomed touches painted onto your skin in bright, blood red. Your bare form reflects back to you, and you force your attention away and to Joel’s clean clothes he’d left for you.

The sweatpants are cozy and worn down. The flannel is soft like it’s been worn a million times. You roll the cuffs on the flannel and do the same to the sweatpants a few times, giving the strings a pull to cinch them on tighter, until your feet and hands aren’t flooded in fabric. The smell of him on the clothes only heightens as your body heat warms the fabric.

Wanting to be lost in the scent of the real thing, you head downstairs and find Joel in the kitchen with a tall glass of water and freshly made sandwich. He opens his mouth to say something but falls short as he eyes you. He swallows thickly and meets your eye again.

“Clothes alright? I know the sizing is a bit off.”

“They feel really good.”

“Good. Good.” He clasps his hands together and moves aside to gesture towards the food.

He gives you the option of sitting at the table or sitting in front of the TV while you eat. You opt for the latter and start on your sandwich as Joel flips through the channels until it lands on the Ball Drop Countdown. You sit quietly together, but you can sense the weight of unasked questions emanating from him.

“Guest bedroom look alright? Everything you need in there?” He’s being sincere, but you can tell he’s trying to fill the silence with something.

“It’s really pretty in there. Sarah has really cute taste.”

“She does,” he agrees with a crooked grin. “Kept up the girly stuff for way longer’n I thought she would. I always had a soft spot for that kinda thing, I guess. Kinda made it feel like my little girl wasn’t busy growin’ up and gettin’ ready to head out into the world without me.”

“Do you… Does she see you a lot?”

You aren’t sure why you’re asking or why you want to know. Some part of you is maybe just a glutton for punishment to hear about families who don’t hate each other. Or maybe just confirmation that such a thing was possible.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like, but I shouldn’t complain. She calls all the time, and that helps. Video calls and all that, too. Makes the distance feel shorter, you know?”

You nod like you do know, but you’d never had such an experience. You would kill for a video call with Calum. You weren’t going to think about that right now, though. Not on top of everything else that happened tonight.

As if he could sense the direction of your thoughts, Joel carefully asks if you want to talk about what happened. You think for a minute and then shake your head no.

“That’s okay,” he reassures you. “No pressure. Just wanted to ask in case you… I dunno why. In case you needed m–needed someone to talk to.”

You hold back a smile at his near slip. In case you needed me. And, you do very much need him.

He takes your empty plate and glass without asking, double checking that you’ve had enough before taking it to the kitchen and then settling back onto the couch with you. Without the task of eating and the personal space required to do so, the distance between you both felt infinitely larger than before he left. Your hunger is sated with the food he’d made, but something still stirs in your gut.

The memory of tonight still clings to you. Logan’s mask slipping to reveal the devil beneath. Kenzie deciding that you weren’t worth the risk of jeopardizing her future career, even if it was with men who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.

You can still feel the ghost of Logan gripping your flesh and turning up your clothing, the stench of his alcohol laden breath clouding your nostrils and making you want to choke. You want to erase it. You want your body to forget the sensation and experience of it. Maybe you can replace it with a different sensation, a new experience. Something to take the place of Logan’s shadow lingering on you.

“Joel?”

He turns to look at you, mouth all pouty and parted with concern. You want to lick into it so badly. “Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something weird? A weird favor?”

“Of course ya can,” he urges. He angles his body to give you more of his attention. “I’m sure it ain’t weird. What is it, sweetheart?”

“I’m–Can I just—” You falter as you try to figure out how you can ask him to act as a prop in your recreation of tonight just so your body can be tricked into believing it never happened. “If I ask you to–to hold me a certain way, could you do that?”

His brow knits together like the hesitant phrasing of your question betrays its innocuous veneer. “I can do whatever ya need me to do, sweetheart, but it might help if I knew what exactly—”

“Please?” you ask so quiet you’re surprised he caught it.

His lips purse, and his body relaxes in defeat. “Of course.”

You wordlessly crawl along the couch until you’re almost on top of him and swing a leg between his. You ignore the way your crotch feels hot and needy against his warm thigh. You gently guide his hands to your hips and backside, urging his fingers to splay wide enough to engulf the globe of your ass and meat of your hip. He tenses like he’s going to ask if you’re okay or if you’re sure about what you’re doing or if this is a good idea, but you don’t let him get to it.

“Please,” you breathe – beg.

He relaxes again.

You slump your body against his and nestle your forehead against the crook of his neck. He feels so impossibly large beneath you, all warmth and brawn and safety. Under different circumstances you’d probably be dripping with arousal by now, but instead your body starts to succumb to the enveloping cradle of his hold. Your breathing evens out, and you think somehow this might actually be working. You can pluck the rotting seed of tonight straight out of your body’s scorecard and plant something that won’t devastate the soil and overtake the sparse sprouts that already exist.

The loud snap! and boom! of fireworks jolt you awake. Joel snorts an inhale and opens his eyes comically wide before blinking quickly. His hands are still on you. Your body is still on him. You’re still safe.

“Nodded off,” he mutters almost to himself, voice thick with sleep. He glances lazily out the window as neighboring houses send off fireworks that probably aren’t street legal. “Damn things are loud.” His head lolls back to face you, and he’s sporting a tired, goofy grin. “Happy New Year’s, I guess, huh?”

You fist the collar of his shirt and crash your mouths together. You’ve been awake for less than 30 seconds, and all your brain can churn out is to take take take.

You meant to take it slow, or maybe you didn’t. You aren’t even sure as you rock your body against his until he comes alive beneath you, hands flying up from your hips to brace against your back and pull you closer against him. His tongue is warm and wet against yours, taking his time to explore you and taste you. He swallows down your hitched moan, groaning in response with a hand coming to cradle the back of your head.

It’s over just as soon as it began when a particularly loud boom breaks the magnetic spell that took over you both. You slowly pull back and release the hold on his shirt. He’s staring like a deer in headlights, and you’re sure you aren’t much different.

What the fuck just happened? Why did you do that? What compelled you to do it like that?

“Um, well. Um. Happy New Year’s. And, um, I guess I’ll – I’m shou–I should be getting to bed, I guess. So–” You awkwardly extricate yourself from the couch and give an awkward wave. Joel just stares back at you dumbfounded.

You wave again like an idiot. “Okay. Um. Happy New Year’s. Um. Goodnight.” You force yourself to walk normally up the stairs and not slam the door to the guest bedroom. You can still taste him on your lips, all echoes of Logan faded into nothingness.

Thank y'all for waiting on this one. The first draft was much shorter, but I just felt like I wanted to flesh it out significantly more than what I had originally written. It feels right now, and I hope you have the same feeling after reading it.

tagging:

@survivingandenduring @bizarrelove-triangle @cumberpegg @verybigvag @koshkaj-blog @pastelpinkflowerlife @toomanystoriessolittletime @walw1017 @tuquoquebrute @confusedpuffin @reneerocks3617 @ellenmunn @electriclasso @pastelnap @zooty-and-fruity @drunk-and-capable @copperhalfcent

#fic: chrysalism #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #hurt/comfort #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff

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smittenmittenz · 11 months

Text

Miguel O'Hara SFW Headcanons (x GN Reader) How The Relationship Develops!

Because there are almost none that I see and agree with, and too many are NSFW and uncharacteristic.

(no hate /gen, do whatever tf u want idc)

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Miguel O'Hara x GN Reader because I said so.

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When you meet:

When you first meet it's all cold, no instant spark for him anyways. Ofc you seem him and you're like "wow he's handsome!" but all he sees is another person, nothing special. It's not your fault, this man is just closed off for his own reasons.

You try talking to him: he gives you blunt and short responses.

You try to joke with him: if it's funny he'll smile...maybe even exhale through his nose while doing so. If it's crude or not his type of humor, he won't even turn to look your way and instead will turn away from you and give you something to do to make you go away.

What's his type of humor? I like to think it's the "smartass" type of humor but not in an overbearing type of way. The type of humor that comes naturally- i picture it as you responding with a little snark when he's bossy or something. It's often a hit or miss with him. He'll start smiling more the more you guys know eachother.

If you get his number for whatever reason and you try texting him, he WILL leave you on read if you text him about stuff outside of missions/work. If you bring it up, he'll just tell you that it's not personal and that he doesn't like texting.

If you compliment him he will say thank you, he's cold but not mean. Something like "Thank you for helping me with this, I like coming to you for 'x' because you're really smart and explain stuff nicely." However if the compliment has some sort of ulterior motive (think catcalling) he'll definitely glare at you and either not respond or say "ok". (just don't flirt right away...he literally does NOT KNOW YOU.)

For the love of God please keep your gaze respectful, he might not have a spider sense but he's not dumb.

With that in mind, if you try to pry into his personal backstory too early he will most likely not open up to you about it until wayyyyyyy later since he'll trust you less for being so nosey. Let HIM open up naturally.

Don't call him moody.

How do you become friends? It depends on him, he definitely chooses (and is picky with) who he wants to get close to, so really you have no say and can't do anything to make him like you, so yeah, even if you're conventionally attractive it won't affect how he feels about you LMAOOOO. IMO he has a sort of switch in his head that goes "...okay, I like this person, I should try being friends with them."

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When you guys are friends:

I'd like to think the friendship is made official when he vocalizes that he cares about the safety of you. Hmmmmmmmm, I'd imagine him being like "Hey, take care of yourself out there." Something sweet and short, and he'll make eye contact with you through it. And for once, his expression is calm and his eyebrows aren't furrowed.

Speaking of which, you will definitely see him smile more and you will occasionally catch his expression soften when you show up.

You two will start talking about how your days went. He never did this in the beginning when he didn't know you.

He'll tell you some non-personal stuff about him like his favorite coffee and lunch, his favorite color...only if you ask though. He's not the type to just say that stuff on his own.

Before, he'd rather be alone than be with you. Now that you're friends, he'd like to listen to you talk about yourself while he stays quiet and listens. Perhaps you ramble on about something you're passionate about and he's typing away. And when you pause for whatever reason, he'll say that he's still listening.

You have now unlocked the ability to have conversations with Miguel 🙌

They're short convos but they mean a lot to the both of you, even if they're about what you'll be having for lunch that day.

Speaking of food lol, if you bring him coffee he'll smile and give you a thank you. If you treat him to lunch he'll probably say yes. Probably. If he's overstimulated or overwhelmed from work he'll say "no, thank you." Also don't ask him all shy and stuff, ask him genuinely.

Not a fan of self deprecating talk, if you're friends he will try his best to cut it short and provide some comfort like "that's not true" and will give you reasons as to why. However if it's overbearing (like you do it CONSTANTLY) he will try to pull away from you. Mans is constantly stressed about the multiverse, talking to a friend should be his time to relax a little.

Friendship bracelets...I think he'd think they're corny but he would wear one if it's not too funny looking. Like the ones made from threads of matching colors... he wouldn't wear the ones with the BFF beads lol.

If you're both working in the same space and it's too quiet, he'll probably start a little convo, hearing you talk is comforting. That being said though sometimes he likes the quiet cus it's calm.

Give him self care tips in a nice way and he'll genuinely appreciate it. I think if you're well put together he'll even ask you lol! He'd ask what you'd think is the best to use to diminish the look of eye bags.

Text him and he'll respond, it'll be short but it'll be a response. He'll also reach out first sometimes to check in on you. "Hey how's your day been?"

On that note, it's safe to say that Miguel is not up to date with current memes, but again he's not dumb. If you send him those funny cat videos/pics he will find it amusing, will probably not laugh irl but will smile because he finds it funny that you find it funny.

He will download Pinterest (you told him that's where you get your memes from) and will scroll on it during his free time, if he spots some meme he knows you'd like he'd send it to you, saying it reminded him of you.

Playful banter is welcomed, encouraged only when he is the one starting it. You can start the banter yourself, but just make sure he's in the mood for it.

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The spark ignites inside of Miguel:

He'll be the one initiating conversations a lot more often, and you'll notice it.

He'll surprise you with lunch! He'll know your fave foods from all the chats you guys had as friends, and has some sort of keen sense as to what you are craving that day specifically.

This one is a bit more funny, but if you tease him by being a little mean (you can now that he has that little spark ignited), he'll turn away from you, but keep himself in view enough for you to see his signature pout. He will look down at the ground and smile before coming up with a comeback, which always usually beats your initial jab.

He'll teach you some words in Spanish if you want him to, but be warned that he'll take his job as your Spanish teacher very seriously. His expression will be serious... he will randomly speak a sentence in Spanish to test you, and if you don't understand him he'll tease the absolute shit out of you. One sentence turns into three, turns into a whole conversation starter.

If you respected the backstory thing, by now he'll open up about it with you privately. The spark being ignited means that he sees something between the both of you he wants to pursue, and that means that he wants to be fully honest with you from now on.

That being said, if you decide to lie about something to him and he finds out during this stage, he'll throw the relationship back to just friends for a good time... I'd say the bond is broken forever but hey you never know right? I think it depends on the lie tbh.

If you're shorter, he'll pat your head once before you go away from him, maybe even mess with your hair a bit (if you're okay with that ofc, shout-out to my curly haired ppl, taking care of our hair is not for the weak and even if it was Miguel O'Hara messing it up I'd be pissed off). If you're taller, he'll swipe his hand up on your back. (hopefully you can picture that sorry lol.)

He will appreciate hugs from you in this stage! Ofc you need to ask him first, don't wanna catch him in a bad mood, he'll feel suffocated if you hug him while he's angry.

On that note, if you're leaving and say "...What, no hug goodbye?" he'll definitely smirk and cross his arms... playfully will pretend to ponder while looking at the ground, and will respond "...Fine, I guess you can have one". He will hug you tightly to tease you back.

Remarks about how he looks will now be appreciated, and I think he'd put more effort into how he looks like for you. Keep it classy though.

If he's quiet because he's upset/angry, he'll avoid you. He just doesn't wanna explode around you.

Will take you out on an official date (yippee!) and depending on the type of person you are (whether or not you like restaurants as a first or a picnic) he'll do his best to dress accordingly (restaurant = suit, picnic = nice t-shirt and jeans).

Will ask what you think about his outfits. Be honest with him, honesty is the best policy.

Will ask for advice regarding work, he never did this as friends. He likes to think his way is the best way, but... he's starting to care a lot about you and what you think too.

Will get you a gift occasionally, not randomly. I think during holidays and on your b-day. He never did this as friends. He even asks to hang out with you on these days. :3

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The relationship:

He will be the one to make things official, he'll do this by getting you a nice piece of jewelry and planning a date somewhere he knows you'd love. Definitely the type to say "Can I be your boyfriend?"

Every time he sees you he'll smile, unless he's angry. If he's angry his eyebrows will just relax (expression softens in general) but he'll still be frowning. You'll always be able to soften his heart, but it'll be like a meter, you know?

When you gotta go, if you're shorter he'll hug you and press his cheek against your head, will give you a forehead kiss depending on the mood, will always tell you to stay safe and that he loves you. If you're taller he'll hug you and press his forehead against your chest to feel your heartbeat lol, in this scenario i see you being the one to kiss his forehead and he lets you.

Texts you updates, and in general more often. Will call you, he never did this before now.

Will hang out with you more, I think he'd even take days off routinely to spend them with you. Like Saturdays and Sundays he leaves and lets someone take care of his work- but he'll occasionally pop in to check in on them via text to make sure stuff at work is alright.

Every breakfast, lunch, and dinner is now between the both of you. A nice break from work.

Will let you touch him, for example running your hand up and down his arm, holding his hand, giving his face kisses/quick pecks. He appreciates all of your touches.

In general you will see him soften up more, he's less angry (still has his days, T-T), and is seen smiling more by the people around him too.

After some time (1/2 yrs) he will ask for you to move in with him.

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Thanks for reading, imma do another post that has random headcanons too and not relationship based ones :3

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#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #fanfiction #headcanon #gender neutral fanfic #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman

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chosomindslave · 5 months

Text

Are the JJK men virgins???

Genre: suggestive af

Gojo: Yes but he lost in after he met Itadori

:: I say this because, season two episode 7-8 he gives off a self absorbed mf. Like how can you not tell your bff is DEPRESSED??? HELLLO? who wanna fuck that ? Cause I don’t like self absorbed obnoxious wanna be nonchalant ass niggas AND THATS GOJO SATORU. Maybe he lost it in season one, but he definitely was not getting bitches in season two or the shibuya arc me personally that persona switch was not giving..

Geto: I do believe Geto lost his virginity at 16

:: looking at Geto vs Gojo we can most def agree that Geto GETS PUSSYYYY. Mfer got manners he save children for a living, HE KILL PPL FOR A LIVINGGGG. But yeah he get bitches, his parents taught him rightt. Long live Geto parents. I love me a man with manners and yk what they say about a man with manners?? THEY GOT GOOD DYCKKKKK.

Nanami: He lost his virginity when he got big and BULKYYYY

::I say this because we he first appeared as a teen with Haibara and he had that swoop I said HELLLL NO. He gave a pole with blonde hair with a swoop. The way he been pulling on homeboy hair I was like yeah he dicking bitches down THE NASTY WAYYYY “FUCK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT MEEEE” iykyk

Choso: BEEN DID TS IN 1890

:: stop with these shy fanons on him this mf get down nasty and DIRTY. He been around for so many decades. I’m not weird bitch you are. He been dicking down queen elizabeth the third and Marilyn Monroe. He got daddy issues he fucking everybody and they grandmamy

Itadori: HN THAT BITCH BEEN FUCKED SMB IK IT

:: You can’t tell me he ain’t fuck Yuko HE DID DF. He got Sukuna. And I do believe since he got sukuna in him he can change that dingdong size and make that mouth appear anywhere on him he gets down he zont play NEXT

Megumi: no

:: he got daddy issues and his care taker is GOJO SATORU pls bffr

Yuta: no

:: Don’t call me a creep but the way Rika was goin crazy over Yuta on SOUL they fucked. Mf was in that hospital bed rocking da BOAT. Bye they literally got married at 10 before she diedddd LMAOOOO lil nasty freaky fucks.

Inumaki: THE BIGGEST SLUT

:: if mf can say don’t move and we aint moving bitch what’s that telling you??? OKAY

#jjk #gojo #itadori #choso #geto #imagine #inumaki #jjk smut #gojo smut #itadori smut #geto smut #nanami smut #choso smut #megumi smut #inumaki smut #lol

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winterwhisperz-blog · 1 month

Note

Hey i just read your touchstarved headcanons and I LOVE IT!!!

And Here’s my request is that can you do a scenario of TS boys with MC who can speak different languages??? (like Italian or French)

Don’t worry i am a patient person and I won’t rush you. And i hope you’ll make more scenarios of the TS boys in be future.

YES HI HELLO !! I am, SO SO SORRY for taking two thousand centuries to respond to this—I’ve been pretty stressed over work so I haven’t been able to write headcanons as much— BUT TYSM FOR THE ASK !! IM SO HAPPY YOUVE ENJOYED MY HEADCANONS !

I do want to apologize in advance that these are going to be shorter and less one-shot like, than my others. These will be more like my Kuras Headcanons I made awhile ago—(Life has been kicking my butt lately so my motivation has been LOW)

But I hope you still enjoy them !!

Also huuuuge thanks to @danyvhell-writes

For helping me with these ideas !! You’re a saint 🙏

ALR LES GO

Note: gn reader! Fluff

Warnings: PROBABLY OOC PLS DONT HATE ME

Ais

ALR ALR AHAHAHAHA

So, one of my besties would do this A LOT where she would just switch into Spanish and I’d just be there like ???

So I thought it would be funny if you did that with Ais here

Imagine you’re in some kind of argument, a stupid, light one you know— and to annoy him

YOU JUST SWITCH INTO A WHOLE DIFFERENT LANGUAGE

He’s completely stunned, red eyes wide as you just start rambling, (very passionately) in a language he doesn’t understand

As you go on though, he just becomes utterly impressed, watching your mouth as he studies the words coming out of it (and just because he’s flirty LMAOOOO)

After you’ve had your fun, he comments something like “Impressive, Sparrow.” And then asks you, ofc, if you can teach him what you said

To tease him a bit more, you don’t tell him for a bit until he BRINGS OUT THESE GIANT PUPPY EYES

So you do start teaching him, just long evenings hunched over books or a paper as you teach him different phrases and words, the candle light dancing on his focused gaze.

And one day, out of the blue, he starts calling you Sparrow in the language you were speaking(and you also hear him practice words while talking with Princess—AND ITS SO ADORABLE)

After he’s becoming pretty good at it, you then proceed to tease other people(Leander) by randomly switching mid-conversation into a different language <33

Leander

NOW WITH THIS ONE, it reminded me of this really cool video of a guy switching between loads of languages in one song

IMAGINE showing this off to Leander one rowdy night at the Wet Wick

Maybe it’s even one of his favorite songs ??? And hearing you sing it in so many languages would absolutely knock him off his feet.

Another thing I think he’d go CRAZY FOR

Pet names, in whatever language.

Like ?? You call him something like “Mi amor…” for Spanish, or “Tesoruccio.” For Italian ??

He’s done for. Doomed. Dead. Will beg you to repeat it over and over while he showers your hands or arms with kisses.

He’s also one that would definitely be okay with you calling these pet names in public—he wants to be all smug that HES the one called yours.

He probably also learns whatever language you speak as well, might already know it because bro probably had tutors that taught him so many languages man.

In return for the pet names, he probably calls you something like “λατρεία μου” or “latria mu” (My adored !!! 🥹 in greek)

Kuras

NOW, THIS IS INTERESTING

I’m guessing since Kuras is an Angel, he knows like ??? Every language?

So when he finds out you speak others, he’s instantly curious, impressed, and now it’s quiz time.

You pass by a certain object, plant, anything, and he asks you how to say it in your language(s). Even if he may already know, he likes to hear it coming from you, enjoying the glint in your eyes as you explain things.

Another thing he’ll do, is when you’re having a library date, he’ll hand you a book and request you translate it. Either from your language to—whatever language people speak in Eridia ?? Or from that language to yours.

These will turn into nightly strolls with you translating a poem or book as he strides beside you, golden eyes locked on every word.

In return, he’ll translate whatever text into a language you don’t know. (I wonder if angels have a specific language??)

A name for him, I think it’d be cute if you called him 아름다운 천사 (Beautiful Angel in Korean !!)

Whether this is after or before you know he’s an Angel, he finds it both amusing and endearing. (Or painfully ironic if his life as an Angel is a tough subject)

Mhin

OKAY SOSOSOSOSO !! Mhin evidently thirsts for knowledge, they’re a lil nerd and they’re rlly bad at hiding it (A mood really. one of the reasons I love them <3) and my friend mentioned they’re more of a listener? So like I can see them just—paying very close attention to every word you say

At times they may not seem to be listening to you as you ramble, or catch a few words of slang from your language(s). But they’re actually secretly a sponge and soak up every little detail.

And now this may be just me but Mhin gives off such I must impress you with all my random facts vibes.

They ask questions about the languages you speak, the slang, the meanings, how to pronounce things correctly, everything

And then they do their own research, soaking up all they can before appearing to you one day and just starting the conversation in your language(s)

When you show any sign of being impressed, they will look away blushing and try to act cool but nahhh buddy you aren’t fooling anyone we know you spent forever working on that

Similar to Ais, lots of late night lessons where you get to teach Mhin about your language(s)! Just you two looming over an open book, Mhin scribbling down notes, looking so concentrated and you even spot a smile starting to form as they start getting better and better. (I love themmmmm 😭)

Mhin asks you to quiz them a lot, and looks so !! !! Just proud of themself when they pass. (Before realizing it and their self loathing kicks in and they revert back to >:( ) You want to tell them that they don’t need to be quizzed but look at their face !! Let them impress you okay !! They’re top 1 student !!

If you want you can joke about them having to call you Professor(Mc) or something but ur just gonna get a deep frown and glare like 😒 nuh uh AHAHSHS

Vere

Ohhh vere my nemesis. (He’s the toughest for me to write i have to like mentally and physically ambush him in a fast food parking lot before I can get anything outta him)

(I love him so much though so here we go !! Thanks to my friend for giving me a lot of help in this one because otherwise I’d be a doomed woman)

My friend brought up since he’s a fox, he’s very sensitive to sound !! So when you’re speaking in your mother language, he notices how your tone might change, watches as your tongue moves against your teeth or the top of your mouth, idk but he makes it a sensual thing somehow 😭

Definitely flirts with you in your language(s), says the most outrageous thing and watches as you get stunned or flustered by it, absolutely delighted that no one but you (or anyone who’s unfortunately being nosy and can understand) knows what he’s saying.

Okay this may be dumb but it’s so funny to me imagine Vere like putting on his most smooth, seductive tone, convincing the people around that he’s gonna say like the most erotic thing but he ends up just saying something like 💀 “Avocados” in your language(s) or like “Leander looks like a chicken breast” he does it to see you laugh but also because Leander overhears and could tell his name was said and thinks Vere is like— finally coming around but only you two rlly know Vere is just sexily roasting him.

Due to recent lore being dropped, and in his lil character sheet, it says Vere has a huge love for the arts. I think it’d be really neat if you introduced him to things specifically written in your language(s) !! Like books that originated from your country, plays that are only acted in that language(s), just a tour of the language! And if he doesn’t know your languages(s) then teaching him is gonna be like 💀 somehow so flirty

Will definitely call you Professor(Mc) but he makes it sound absolutely horrendous and cringey and you will regret it you probably should turn back

Jokingly will ask if you’ll give him a golden sticker if he behaves—do it, just to humble him.

OKAY WE’VE REACHED THE END WOOOT WOOT !!!! I DIDNT THINK I’D MAKE IT !!! Been stuck in this endless void for ages !!

Hem hem, thanks so much for the ask !!! I’m so so sorry it took forever 😭 writer’s block nearly had my head this time uh oh

Thank you again to my bestie for helping me out !!

Now I hope you see the most beautiful sunset, eat your favorite dessert, learn something new, and have a happy spring !! 🫶🩷✨

#touchstarved headcanons #touchstarved game #answered asks #thank you for the ask !#touchstarved x reader #touchstarved mhin #touchstarved leander #touchstarved ais #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved vere #winterwritings

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la-rougo · 7 months

Text

*SFW*—

Hades x Chaotic deity ! GN reader

I could make a chaotic reader series lmaoooo

Warnings: swearing

Even though the king is often busy and doesn’t really visit the upperworld unless necessary, but he sure does know a lot of dieties out there, including you

He only heard about your title like “f/n the disaster bringer” or “f/n the god/goddess of stupidity” he lowkey wanted to know who this deity is

You often run around in valhalla messing with gods and goddesses, pranking all of them and get kicked out sometimes, even Loki is afraid of going near you but ended up being your sidekick

Now that piqued the helheim ruler’s interest, how did someone even managed to do something even worse than loki?

He decided to come out to the upperworld more often to observe you from afar. He wanted to know more about you and maybe hang out around sometimes since he haven’t seek any fun in his life for a long while after all, though he have tons of work to finish

There he sees you pulling out your shenanigans stupidly, how cute. Your chaotic behavior may seem dumb and annoying to other deities but to him? He found it adorable and fascinating on how you come up with new ways of pranking deities none stop

H/c deity was found pushing Loki lightly made him dropped whatever he’s holding “jeez f/n! You’ll never ever get tired of bullying me do you, oh well. That’s what I found cute about you~” Loki said teasingly as he bent down to reach for the object only to feel a hard smack on his ass, his body jumped up highly like those goofy cartoons, yelped loudly from the impact on his butt. He turn look back at you with an angry wojak expression, his fist clenching being one centimeter close to blow your head off with a single punch

You whistles casually and ran away “this is the sixth time of this week that you abused my cheeks you stupid as—!!! *racial slurs*” you saw him chasing after you, running for your dear life, you tried to find a way to escape him cause you know damn well if he finally get you then he’s gonna slap your bakery back with immense amounts of strength that could send you to the oblivion

You found a tall intimidating god, you didn’t look up to see who he is or you have any clue of it, you hid behind him, sticking your tongue out at Loki. The mischievous god sighs and asked the tall god “sir, I apologize for that gremlin and for the commotion. May I have them back?” Loki smiles sarcastically. The tall god chuckles… wait, you recognize his voice “I’m afraid you’ll have you get your revenge later” oh shit. Is that… is that Hades? You thought as you lean to his side to look up and see his face while Loki floats away in defeat

You stare at him, who’s watching Loki leave, he is Hades the king of the helheim… he’s even handsome up close, suddenly his gaze switches to your eyes as he look at you with a gentle smile

“Where’s my thank you hm?” Your soul flew back to your body and you bowed deeply, head digging down the floor “uhh thank you very much mister!” You said, not looking at him. Hades was about to say something but was cut off by you fleeing away from him as fast as you can, leaving him confused and amused

You actually have been crushing on Hades for a while now, obviously you rant about him to Loki

Every time you see him greeting gods and goddesses so formally, unlike you. Makes your toxic traits says you can do that too

Well you actually tried that but failed, miserably

You often sneaked into the underworld to see your fellow friends like hypnos and definitely not Hades

He’s like your biggest crush or smth, when you saw him training or slaying any titans so majestically or his gaze lays on you, literally those night at your house would be you giggling and kicking your feet thinking about him

You often see him in events, celebrations and parties that mostly zeus being the host(of course) and you see how nice, well mannered and perfect he is

He’s like completely opposite to you which made you believe that he couldn’t be with you, he deserves an independent, formal and smart person, a person who’s as perfect as him not a goofy comedian… at least that’s what you thought

After your first direct encounter, you’re so close to explode every time the moment he made an eye contact with you again

Hades decided, soon he’ll get to know more about you and maybe got together… wait what?

You were hanging out in Valhalla again, but this time. You’re alone, sleeping while your back leaning against a tree in the garden while shifting uncomfortably

A presence seems to be approaching your slumbering form quietly, not daring to wake you up from your beauty sleep. The presence looms over your unconscious body, whoever it is, stepped beside you and laying down next to you without making any sound.

Your uncomfortable shifting was not unnoticed by the person next to you, hands slowly caress your back and sides silently, your upper body was caressed gently, being guided by the hands, which make your body turns aside. Suddenly your head lays on a soft surface, a fabric texture. One of the person’s hand now rest on your head and stroking your hair so tenderly. With the change of position and feeling something on your head, it causes your eye lids to open up slowly, expected to meet a sunlight but instead, observing the sight in front of you made you realized your current position.

You were sleeping on Hades’ lap?! While he’s stroking your hair?!?!?!

“Wha-“

“Hush, dear. Go back to your rest”

Your slightly widened eyes stare at his gentle ones, as gentle as his smile that’s being portrayed on his face

You were about to ask more questions but quickly got shut up by Hades’ lip placing against your forehead. Saying you’re shock would be an understatement. Hades’ lift his head up slightly, moving to place another kiss on your already pink dusted cheek

After calling for your soul to come back to your body, yet you still can’t move, not that you want but you’re actually that surprised. But you collect all your courages left and leans up to his face, leaning in slowly and place a peck on his cheek, the same way that he does to you, which made him surprised, but it was quickly replaced by his silly smile

He peck you back on the forehead while his hand run up to your head and pat it dearly, you feel like you can die right there, like fr

Hades lean against the tree and lift you up by your lower parts, placing you up on his lap and he guides your head to rest on his shoulder

He didn’t expect your second encounter would be this… lovely and sweet, he loves it a lot. He felt like everything that mattered his mind vanished while there’s only you in his head, he had never seen your peaceful side before and he love it, honestly he admire everything about you to the point he didn’t realized his feelings developed more and more

The two rest together under the tree in a garden peacefully, no one dares to mind them or even see them in the first place. At least one person saw and ran away to go weeping in the corner

You and Hades eventually become closer and closer together, even if the two’s personalities are as different as day and night, rumors starts to spread about Hades being your boyfriend or smth

I kid you not, when Poseidon heard about this he’s beyond disappointment. Out of all god and goddesses, you??? While zeus actually being supportive and adamas is just, shocked

Hades didn’t mind the rumors, he actually likes it since its just fun to tease you something like “we look like couples don’t you think?”

You almost leave him a scar

He’s actually starting to get serious about his feelings, does he think of you as a friend? Of course! That’s what he at least tried, cause seeing you with Loki makes him rethink his plan about confession

One day he was about to meet you in Valhalla like usual, smiling a bit. Once he’s close to your meet up place. A frown soon took over his face when he sees you and Loki together

He was about to turn away but a few words reached his ears

“What if he didn’t like me back?”

“He’s obvious as fuck!”

“Wait really?”

Hades turn back to see your nervous form looking around, probably looking for him? Hell yea!

He sneakily approach you from behind and surprise you with a little greeting

You flinched and turn around to see Hades’ face, his handsome face… you look back to Loki and giving him the “what do I do bro” face. Loki didn’t reply and slowly leaving, giving you a last thumbs up and vanished

You were about to go chase Loki but soon realized what you have to do. You nervously turn back to Hades, smiling like always, gah dayum he’s hot.

You cleared your throat and trying to recall all the practices you did with Loki, only to stand in front of him awkwardly. Hades’ calm expression turn into confusion and lean himself in to see what’s mattering you

“Are you alright?”

You startled by Hades again and trying to form a sentence

“Okay so, I’ve been crushing on this guy lately…”

Hades’ frown slightly and straightened his back. He only stood silently, he doesn’t even have to ask who it is cause it’s probably Loki, if it’s another person then, why would you tell him and not Loki?

“He’s a very cool god, I used to watch him from afar and admire him, I never thought of approaching him or talk to him because he’s Zeus’ brother. I’m scared he wouldn’t want to date an unserious deity because he’s more than a divine being”

Hades expression changed into a shocked one as he awkwardly spoke up

“Poseidon?”

You look up at him with a “bro what?” Face and facepalm. Do you really have to confess more? You thought he’s more clever than this!

“No… it’s not Poseidon!”

“Adamas?”

“…no.”

That’s obvious enough judging from Hades’ even more shocked expression. You pray he doesn’t reject you or if he does then at least doesn’t damage your relationship, you heard a soft chuckle left Hades’ lips and a reply

“I apologize for my obliviousness… but thank you for your reassurance”

Wait what? Reassurance? Fr? Like— fr?!!

You felt your cheek heat up, so does his. Hades lean in to place a peck on your cheek and pat you

“I like you too”

Flabbergasted was just an understatement, you couldn’t process anything but the only thing you’re sure you’re feeling is happiness and love

You look at him, now slightly flustered expression, which suits him a lot. You lean up and return the peck

Holy shit, having hades’ as a partner is literally every girls dream

Since he have quite lots of work, he’s quite clingy. When he have a free time he would cuddle you and spending times with you ended up with him going back to his work late

He loves you with all of his heart and he never dares to not return the affections because you have to feel how good you make him feel!

He’s also not ashamed of giving you affection or you giving him too much in public, like when he’s having a meeting with the Olympus gang. You who weren’t even invited is sitting on his lap and calling him like “hades my pookie bear” he loves it a lot and love his relatives’ reactions (Poseidon being the most disgusted)

He cares a lot like A LOT about you, example like when you cough a little he would immediately become worried and ask if you’re ok, he’ll go get you warm water and meds

Of course you tell him to calm down, although you love that about him

He doesn’t often get jealous because he trust you and loves you! Though sometimes he’s a bit unhappy when you’re too close with some other god/goddesses. But he wouldn’t cause a scene and just look away until you’re back to him

He🗣️definitely🗣️cook🗣️so🗣️good🗣️even though most of the time you would cook for him, but when it’s his day off he would make the most delicious meal known to Olympus for you, his love of his life

He could go on days ranting about how you’re a light that lit up his dark life into a fun spontaneous one, he loves you so much even words can’t even describe how much he cherish you