#My man is about to scramble her eggs and make a few kids~ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

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Chapter 1: Got the News Today, Doctor Said I Had to Stay

Collaboration with the fabulous @corroded-hellfire

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: When you're stuck in the hospital after the Hawkins "earthquake," you're surprised to find comfort in your new roommate, Eddie Munson. But when you find out that your injuries may compromise your dreams, the cheery façade threatens to come crashing down.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, controlled use of pain medication

WC: 3.9k

A/N: There will be six chapters to this series, one for each Jonas Brothers album. Try to spot the Easter eggs we've planted throughout!

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

“I said, get this murderer out of my room!” A shrill voice from across the hall startles you from your sleep. The digital clock on the bedside table reads 7:05, but you can’t be sure if it’s morning or evening. The bright lights of Hawkins General Hospital have your internal clock all jumbled, and the constant barrage of nurses checking on you certainly doesn’t help.

“He should be locked up in prison or rotting on death row, not using precious resources that could be used on law-abiding citizens!” the shrieking woman continues, and you grimace as your head throbs. It seems like the pain never ceases; it only travels around your body. You’ve been here for two days, and you have more questions than answers.

There’s quiet for a few moments before the door to your room swings open and a second bed is being wheeled in, more IV lines hooked up to the poor patient than you’ve got going on. A nurse pulls the curtain separating the two sides of the room before you can get a look at whoever is lying in the bed.

“Well, that was a record,” a male voice says from the other side of the curtain. “How long before that one freaked out? Six minutes?”

No one answers the man, but you can hear nurses and orderlies setting up any equipment the patient would need.

“Don’t blame them,” a woman eventually mumbles, moving a machine over. “Kid killed a cheerleader and then fled the scene. I wouldn’t wanna bunk with him, either.”

A new pair of footsteps joins the crowded room, but this time it’s just your nurse, Mandy, coming in to check on you. She’s a pretty blonde woman, and though she’s usually smiling, her lips are puckered into a pout.

“I know this is far from ideal,” she says softly, checking your vitals and marking notes on her chart, “but we’ll have people in here making sure nothing happens, okay?”

“I think she’s pretty harmless, just loud,” you lightly joke, assuming that Mandy’s referring to the banshee across the hall. “Worst thing she’ll do is trigger a migraine.”

She shakes her head. “No, hon. I’m talking about your, uh, new roommate. Edward Munson.”

Well, that explains the whole murderer outburst. Still, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Eddie? I went to school with him. Guy couldn’t even be bothered to turn in his part of a group project; I highly doubt he could pull off a murder.” You’d think he would have had something done, considering it was his second time taking O’Donnell’s senior English class, but he’d shown up empty-handed, leaving his poor partner scrambling at the last minute.

Mandy nods, looking a little relieved herself. Maybe the thought of her having to be his nurse had been eating at her.

“Is he awake?” you ask. You can only assume he’s not, because the Eddie Munson you remembered would never have been quiet for this long.

“Sleeping,” Mandy says. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“Um.” You wrinkle up your nose as you think, a sharp pain taking that moment to shoot down your leg. “When can I get some more pain medication? And food?”

Going through the papers in your chart, Mandy’s eyes scan lines of writing until she comes to the answer she needs. “You’ve got about forty-five minutes until I can give you your next dose. Luckily, dinner should be here quicker than that.”

“Okay,” you say with a sigh, sinking back against your pillows.

After another round of pain meds, you’re able to drift off into a light sleep. You don’t have dreams on the medication; you’re simply floating in a haze of pinks and purples. Perhaps the dreamlessness is a good thing, considering the memories buried deep inside your unconscious mind. Your roommate is not so fortunate.

“No! Stop!” Eddie whimpers from the bed next to you, startling you from your sleep. You can see through the translucent curtain that he’s trying to thrash, but his injuries limit his movements. “Henderson, help me! Get me out of here!”

“Hey,” you whisper, but when he cries out again, you raise your voice slightly. “Eddie, wake up!”

“I won’t run away, didn’t run away, gotta save Chrissy,” he mumbles, still trapped in his nightmare. “Don’t let me die. Don’t wan’ die.” The urgency in his tone falters, and you realize that he’s crying.

“Eddie, you’re alive!” you call out to him, wishing you had the strength to walk to him and shake him awake. “You survived the earthquake, okay? But you gotta wake up!”

You watch as he jolts up involuntarily, groaning loudly as pain blooms throughout his torso. “Fuck,” he moans, clutching his ribs with one arm. “Wha—where am I? Oh, shit.” He lays back down as the realization sets in. He tries to choke back a sob, inadvertently sending himself into a coughing fit.

“Here,” you call out to him, grabbing the cup of water on your bedside table. “Can you open the curtain and reach?”

Eddie’s able to yank back the cloth fabric, but neither of you can move close enough for him to grasp onto the cup. The two of you are confined to hospital beds, arms outstretched pathetically just to pass a glass of water. The scene is so absurd that you have to laugh.

“You think—cough—this is—cough—funny?” Eddie asks, but his grin indicates that he also finds it amusing. “I survived the Up—earthquake, and—cough—now I’m gonna die from—cough—lack of water?”

“‘M sorry,” you manage between peals of laughter. “I’m just imagining how ridiculous we’d look to someone passing by.”

Eddie uses his last bit of strength to lunge, finally securing the cup and guzzling down the water. “Thanks, um…” He cranes his neck to see your name written on the whiteboard above your bed. “Oh, shit! Did we go to high school together?”

You nod. “We did. I graduated last year. We had Mrs. O’Donnell’s English class together.”

He wrinkles his nose at the mention of his least favorite teacher. “Ugh, yeah. I mean, not ugh that we had a class together; ugh at O’Donnell,” he blabbers. “And an extra ugh for me having to take that class again this year.”

“I thought a certain metalhead was missing from graduation,” you tease.

“Aw, you noticed?” Eddie’s smirk makes you laugh, the pain meds probably adding to your bubbly mood.

“Well, no one caused a commotion or flipped off old man Higgins, so yeah,” you say. “And there was a distinct lack of Black Sabbath blaring through the parking lot.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Gotta stay inspired, y’know? I don’t want to be one of those musicians who has someone write their shit for them. It makes it less real, or whatever.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You write all of Corroded Coffin’s music?” you ask incredulously.

Eddie nods. “Well, me and the rest of the guys—wait,” he pauses, eyes narrowing with suspicion, “you know the name of my band?”

“Mhm,” you pick at the itchy wool blanket draped over your legs. “You played at the middle school talent show. I was in seventh grade, so you must’ve been in eighth.”

He doesn’t say anything for a bit; he just studies your face until a huge grin forms from cheek to cheek. “You’re the dancer!” he exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You did that routine with the, um, the fancy shoes…”

“Pointe shoes,” you giggle. “Yeah, people weren’t too impressed. Apparently a twelve-year-old flailing on stage to Swan Lake was not the hit I’d thought it’s be.”

“Flailing?” Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, you were amazing. Don’t tell my friends, but I, uh, secretly wanted you to win.”

“Me?!”

“Yeah, you.” He matches your surprised tone, making you laugh again. “I thought it was totally badass, getting up there and doing ballet when all the other girls were jumping around to Blondie.”

“Don’t knock Debbie Harry,” you warn him teasingly, poking your forefinger in his direction. “She is an icon, and you will show her some respect.”

Eddie brings a hand to his heart. “My deepest apologies, to both you and Ms. Harry.” He flashes another sweet smile that could melt an iceberg. “But I really did want you to win. I’ve always rooted for the underdog.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” And you do. It’s nice to know that someone besides your parents believed in you.

“You, uh, you still dance?” Eddie asks abruptly.

“Yup,” you tell him, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s actually what I go to school for.”

“Good,” Eddie muses, averting his gaze from your side of the room. “You were too talented to give that up.”

You’re about to respond when there’s a knock on the door and you see an orderly walk in with a food tray. You drop your head back on your pillow, humming your happiness. The orderly sets your table within your reach before placing your tray on it. Before the man can even step out the door to grab Eddie’s food, you’re inhaling the soup you’ve been given. You’re distantly aware as Eddie gets his food, but you’re busy trying to figure out what type of soup it is. Is that potato in it?

A groan from the other side of the curtain has you looking in Eddie’s direction as you swallow a mouthful of soup.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, clearly lying.

“If we’re going to be roommates, we’re going to have to learn to be honest with one another.”

He huffs a laugh as he clangs his silverware together. “S’just that it’s gonna sound ridiculously stupid after what everyone has been through.”

“Humor me,” you say before ladling another spoonful of soup in your mouth.

“Fine,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I got green Jell-O. I hate that shit.”

Your eyes lock on your own Jell-O, bright red where it sits next to your piece of bread and cup of water. “How do you feel about red?”

“Much better,” Eddie says, tearing off a piece of his own bread and shoving it into his mouth.

“Wanna trade?” you offer.

“Y’don’t have to do that,” he says through his full mouth.

“Nah, come on,” you say. “Besides, green’s my favorite color.”

Eddie looks over at you, a skeptical look on his face as he chews. But you pick up your sealed cup of Jell-O and toss it over to him. Smiling, he throws the green in return, which you manage to catch.

“Thanks,” he says. You hum in acknowledgment as you tear off the foil lid.

There’s a beat of silence as you both eat what Hawkins General considers dessert. “I don’t know how you like the green one,” Eddie pipes up.

You shrug. “Jell-O is Jell-O,” you say nonchalantly, taking a big spoonful to emphasize your point.

“Nuh uh,” Eddie shakes his head, wincing at the twinge of pain it causes. “Cherry is the superior flavor, and everyone knows it.” He slurps it obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes.

“Geez, how does Chrissy put up with you?” Your tone is light and joking, so you’re taken aback by the darkness that takes over his face. “What?”

“How do you know about Chrissy?” he asks, voice barely audible.

Your face heats up; you’d forgotten that he didn’t know you’d heard him talking in his sleep. “Um, you said something about saving her when you were having that nightmare,” you admit, softening when you realize how vulnerable he is. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No, she isn’t—wasn’t,” he amends. “She was the girl who died in my trailer. But I…I didn’t kill her, I swear.” Eddie looks over at you with misty eyes. “I can’t tell you what happened, but you have to believe me.”

You hold his gaze. “I believe you,” you murmur, quiet but assured.

The two of you go back to your food, plastic utensils scraping styrofoam bowls, until Eddie speaks up again. “You…you said I talked about Chrissy in my sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“What else did I say?” He looks ambivalent, like he’s unsure if he wants to know what his subconscious mind churned up.

You think back for a moment. “You asked someone for help, and then you said you didn’t want to, um…you didn’t want to die.” Your eyes flit over to his side of the room, but he’s practically boring a hole in his Jell-O cup with how intently he’s staring at it.

“Did you tell me to wake up? That I survived?” He finally allows himself to make eye contact with you, a trace of a smile dancing on his lips.

“Yeah—I can never remember if you’re supposed to let the nightmare end naturally, but you seemed really upset.” You gnaw on your lower lip anxiously.

Eddie rests his head on the pillow. “God, this is gonna sound corny as hell,” he starts, chuckling to himself, “but when you did that, it was like…I saw brightness, y’know? Not like, Eddie, come into the light,” he drops his voice an octave and wiggles his fingers, making you giggle, “but like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds. Does that make sense?”

You nod, watching him exhale in relief.

“Guess you’re my sunshine then, huh?” He gives you a shy smile that you easily return, trying to push down the spark of electricity that seems to flow between you.

“Hey, how about this?” Eddie asks as he lands on a channel. Your eyes feel like they’re going to roll back in your head when you see a NASCAR race on tiny television.

“Absolutely not,” you answer.

“Aw, come on,” Eddie says, shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s an American pastime.”

“It’s one big left turn, is what it is,” you shout. “Toss me the remote?” Eddie chuckles and goes to throw it your way before you wince and add, “Watch the leg!”

He’s careful to avoid the area as he sends it your way, but his eyes drift down the blanket at the mention of your limb. “Is that why you’re in here?”

“No, I’ve always wanted to vacation here,” you reply, maintaining a deadpan expression.

“I hear the eleventh floor is just wonderful this time of year,” Eddie throws back, feigning a posh British accent. Terribly, you might add. “How bad is it?” he presses, motioning towards your leg.

“Dunno yet,” you answer honestly. “They took some x-rays and did a bunch of scans; now I’m just waiting for the doctor. They’re probably just overwhelmed.”

Eddie nods. “Nothing like a good, old-fashioned earthquake to shake things up.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to react to his pun. Nothing. “Oh, c’mon! That was a good one!”

“You’re a comedic genius, Eddie Munson,” you joke, and he flips you off, nearly snagging the IV tube pinching his skin. “I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll probably be in a cast for six weeks, maybe have to do some physical therapy. This isn’t my first broken bone.”

“How do you do that?” Eddie muses.

“Do what?”

“Be so…positive,” he explains sheepishly. “I mean, you could be all bitter or anxious, but you’re calm, cool, and collected.” He fiddles with his fingers, frowning as though something is missing. “You really are a ray of sunshine, huh?”

“That’s me.” Truthfully, you’re worried that this could be more than just a run-of-the-mill break, but you don’t let that fear seep through. Instead, you aim the remote at the tiny TV in the corner of the room, settling on a soap opera rerun. It’s not what you’d usually watch, but you’re determined to get your revenge for his NASCAR escapades earlier.

To your chagrin, Eddie’s enthralled with the on-screen drama. “Oh, shit!” He rubs his hands together. “Is this the one where Shelby sleeps with Theo and his identical twin brother, Mark?” He chuckles at the bemused look on your face. “I got hooked on this show when I was home with the flu last year,” he confesses, though he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed.

“Eddie Munson, secret soap opera aficionado?” You waggle your eyebrows. “Scandalous. What will your fans think?”

“I am what I am, Sunshine.” He sits up a little straighter as a woman with big hair and even bigger breasts shoves ultrasound photos at an impossibly handsome man. “No fuckin’ way!” Eddie gasps. “She’s knocked up!”

“How did you not see that coming? It’s like the oldest trick in the book!” you ask incredulously. “Now she has to figure out which brother is the dad.”

Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes widen in shock. “But they’re identical! How’s she gonna do that?”

“Guess you’ll just have to watch and find out!” you chirp, giggling as he lets out an impatient sigh.

“Mr. Munson?” a nurse calls from the doorway, pushing an empty wheelchair. “We’re ready to run your tests. Just have to transfer you to the chair.” She pats the back of it, trying to keep some level of professionalism, but you can tell that she’s nervous being around an alleged murderer. She holds out her hand to help Eddie out of bed, and he shoots you a tight grin.

“I’m goin’ commando under here, Sunshine,” he warns you. “Look away. This show ain’t free.”

You cover your eyes dramatically as he plops into the chair, grunting and groaning the whole way down. “Is it safe?”

“You’re good,” Eddie reassures you as the nurse starts to wheel him out of the room. “Hey, let me know who the father is when I get back. My money’s on Theo.”

You narrow your eyes. “How much money?”

“Hmm,” Eddie taps his chin with his forefinger, pretending to be deep in thought. “It won’t be as much as usual, since I already bought a beach house and a Jaguar this year…$3,000 sound good?”

You give him a little salute, turning your attention back to the show. Settling in against the pillows, you get immersed in the show yourself, rooting for some characters, and wanting some to get stabbed in the backs like they deserve. Just as it comes back to Shelby’s storyline, your doctor walks in, a tight smile on his lips.

“What’s the news, Dr. Sanoj?”

“Well,” he says, looking down at the chart in his hands. “Like we suspected, it’s your femur. It was crushed pretty badly. It’s going to need a few pins in it, which will require some surgery.”

Letting a deep sigh fall from your lips, you nod your head. “Okay. Was kind of expecting that.”

“Now, we won’t know for sure until we get in there and take a look at things, but there’s a chance you’ll need a mobility aid to help you get around.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brows pinching in confusion. “Like crutches?”

“Crutches are one type of aid, yes. But they range in variety. It’s things like wheelchairs, walkers, canes. But this will be a better discussion for once we see how the surgery turns out,” Dr. Sanoj says.

“Would I need to use one forever?” The sympathetic look that softens your doctor’s face lets you know he heard the trepidation in your voice. “Will I be able to dance again?”

“Like I said,” Dr. Sanoj says, “this discussion is best for once the surgery is done.”

You nod your head, knowing you probably won’t be able to get any further information on the subject out of him. “When will I have the surgery?”

“Scheduling is going to work that out and they should let you know by the end of the day. You can expect to be here the days following the surgery, but you shouldn’t be cooped up in these hospital walls for too much longer. You’ll get there, you’ll see. One day at a time.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

A funk has taken over you once Dr. Sanoj leaves the room. A mobility aid? Could you dance with one of those? Surgery and recovery you planned on, but the goal was always to get you back in the dance studio, and needing a device to help you simply get around was not what you had been expecting.

Allowing yourself to stew in your own self pity for a few moments, you realize you’ve missed the big reveal on which brother is the father of Shelby’s baby. You’ll have to tell Eddie that. Explain the doctor came in and you were talking to him. But, you think to yourself, Eddie doesn’t need to know just what rough shape your leg is in. He calls you his sunshine, doesn’t he? That would just bring some gray clouds that he did not need in his life. He’s got a lot going on and is going to need to keep his spirits up. That’ll be easier for you to do if you pretend like everything is rainbows and lollipops.

The door opens and Eddie is wheeled back inside, groaning in pain as he holds a hand over his ribs.

“Right here with the pain medicine,” Nurse Mandy says, stepping in behind him.

“Oh, please be mine,” Eddie says, watching the bundle in Mandy’s hands like a hawk. “Sorry roomie, I think I need it more than you do right now.”

“S’all yours,” you tell him.

Mandy sets a bag of IV fluid up as the transporter helps Eddie get back in bed. His face is pale, and you’ve learned that comes when agonizing pain is ripping through you.

“Okay, Mr. Munson. Should start hitting you at any minute now,” Mandy says.

“Thanks,” Eddie says, letting his eyes drift closed. He stays that way after both the nurse and the transporter leave the room. You think he’s fallen asleep until he speaks again. “So, which brother was it?”

“Ah, sorry, Eddie,” you say. “Doc came in and I was talking with him, so I think I missed it.”

“Good news?” Eddie’s opened his eyes and turns his head to look at you, genuine concern written across his face.

For a moment, you contemplate spilling everything: the surgery, the mobility aid, the possibility of never dancing again. But you shove it deep down, determined to keep your cheery disposition that he so desperately needs. “Y-Yeah, everything’s looking ship-shape.” Ship-shape? You’re a terrible liar, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice.

“Thas’ good shit.” From the dreamy quality his voice is taking in, you can tell the pain meds are starting to take effect.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask.

“Sore as hell from how they had to maneuver me for x-rays. But I feel the medicine kicking in.” A smile comes to his face and you can tell the giddiness of the high is hitting him. “Time for me to fly.”

You giggle and turn your attention back to the television. A game show is on now, so you snuggle in to play along. The contestant is getting an obvious puzzle wrong and it makes you roll your eyes. You’re about to say something to Eddie about it, but then his soft snores reach your ears. Turning your head to look at him, you notice how peaceful he looks. All you can do is pray he stays that way and isn’t plagued by any other nightmares.

Sunshine, he calls you. It’s the nicest nickname you’ve ever been given. You’re hoping you can keep that bright and optimistic attitude up enough to help him out when the clouds come rolling in. It’s not a one-way street, though. Eddie is going to be your light, your breath of fresh air, your optimism. You just don’t know it yet.

#albl #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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crow-aeris · 7 months ago

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Part 3 of the au my brain worms gave me 😔

Part 1, 2, 4

=====

"I keep forgetting about you being a literal trash rat," Jason scoffs, poking at the single pitiful skillet at sat innocently in the giant pantry. He sighs, taking it out, rinsing it, before setting it on the stove.

"Shut up," Tim sighed, pressing his face into the countertop, "You're such an asshole."

"Language, birdy," Jason scoffed, grimacing as he looked through the fridge, "Is there nothing organic in here? You're supposed to be rich, Tim!"

"It's too much work!" his brother complained, "I can't bother with cooking when there are Batmen and Robins to stalk!"

Jason deadpanned, turning over to pin Tim with an unimpressed stare, "Really, kid?"

He shrugs, "You called me a stalker, Jay, I'm just leaning into it! Also, do you want to deal with Dick or Damian next?"

Jason scoffed, "You're the genius, figure it out."

"You lie to Batman once!"

"Oh shut up," Jason rolled his eyes before deciding to make scrambled eggs, because those were the only thing in the entire fridge that were even slightly healthy. Everything else was either frozen meals, exotic fruit juice, and even more frozen meals. God the amount of salt here is atrocious, "We both know you've lied to all of us at least three times."

It was very telling when Tim didn't respond.

"Alright, you make the plans, I make the eggs, and I'll veto anything that sounds utterly batshit insane."

"Do you want to call your mom first?" Tim offered, "She's probably worried sick."

Jason turned, his expression pinching as guilt churned in his chest... He... He doesn't know if he should. He knows she'll die, that someday she'll overdose and leave behind a shaking, trembling, wide-eyed and fearful son, but- but he doesn't think he could deal with it again. Sure, she's his mom, but he- he doesn't know her, this version of her, at least.

"It's okay if you don't-"

"Shut up," he hissed, shocking himself at how strangled and strained his voice sounded, "I- I don't know if I can."

And Tim, with an infuriatingly patient expression, nods.

Jason sucks in a breath through his teeth. He came to peace with her death all those years ago, the faint memory of his previous life overlapping with this reality's.

But... he still owes it to her...

"...Do you want to come with me?" Jason asks after a few seconds of silence.

"Yeah," Tim responds, "Let me go grab some money, and we can buy something instead."

Jason nods shortly before shoving the skillet back into the pantry before going to wait by the door.

A few moments later, the pair of boys sat side by side on the back of the bus. They made have been at each other's throat all those years ago, but now- god help those who ever try to sever them.

As the bus slowed to a stop, the pair wordlessly stood in tandem and strode off the bus. Years of carefully ingrained memory allowing the pair to work together like a well-oiled machine.

"What are you kids doing out here?" a strange man drawls, striding forward to stand in front of the two.

Jason tensed, shifting forward to place himself between Tim and the strange man, "It's none of your business."

"Don't be like that," the man continues, stepping forward with hungry eyes trawling down Jason's face, "are you two brothers?"

Tim's hand pressed against his shoulder, and Jason relaxed to allow Tim to work his stalker magic.

"Yes, we are!" Tim chirped brightly, his currently tone at complete odds with Tim half an hour ago, "I'm so sorry about my brother's attitude. He didn't get enough sleep last night, you see, so he's just a little grumpy."

"I can speak for myself, Al," Jason huffed, feeling acutely aware of the eyes pinning against his skin.

The man looked interested. It was all Jason could do to keep himself from lashing out at the man for his predatory gaze, "What's your name, kid?"

"I'm Alvin John," Tim says brightly, nudging Jason's side with a careful look, "What's your name?"

"How about your brother first?"

"...Thomas," Jason huffed.

"Why are you two out here all alone? Where are your parents?"

"We were out on a walk," Tim nods, "Don't worry, we're safe! Our mom is expecting us, so we should really be on our way."

"You still haven't told us your name," he interrupts.

"Bright kid! You'd be great if you smiled more," and Tim's hand tightening around his arm was the only thing keeping him from brandishing his pocket knife and pulling a Damian, "my name is Derick Gleisner."

"It was nice meeting you, Mister Gleisner," Tim smiles, "I hope you have a good day!"

"You too, kid."

Jason allows Tim to lead them into the crowd. The pair losing the eyes against their back before heading toward Jason's child hood home.

"Robert Shawn," Tim hisses, barely loud enough for Jason to hear, "arrested on account of human and drug trafficking. Batman will find him six days from now and turn him in to the GCPD."

"You want to use him?" Jason replied tightly.

Tim, to Jason's chagrin, nods, "It's the fastest way, short of breaking into the manor, which would just raise their suspicions. If you want to do this another way, I don't mind."

"You already have plans in place, don't you?" Jason groaned, swatting at Tim's arm with a tired sigh. Tim gives him a side-long look, and Jason's question was promptly answered.

They reached the house a minute later, and Jason pushes open the door with his spare key.

"Mom, I'm home!" he calls, freezing as he received no response, "...Mom?"

Tim freezes suspiciously beside him before cursing under his breath, "Jason!"

"What?" he snaps.

"You were here last time, right?" Tim says softly, "You were home."

Jason nods jerkily, dread pooling in his chest as he sees Tim's expression pinch in worry.

He tears away, the carpet bunching under his feet as he scrambles toward the kitchen.

"MOM?" he calls. She wasn't in the kitchen. Maybe her room? "MOM! MOM, WHERE ARE YOU?"

Jason shoves open the door, scrambling at the doorknob in his haste. He bursts in only to see Catherine slumped over on the floor.

This- this wasn't supposed to fucking happen yet! What the FUCK.

He screamed. His knees aching as he lunged forward to grapple with his mom's body. Her skin cold and limbs stiff- his mom- his mom.

Shit- what- this wasn't supposed to happen yet! It- it was august, she wasn't supposed to die until february. God DAMNIT.

"I've called the ambulance," Tim says from the doorway, "Jay..."

"Shut UP. SHUT. UP," Jason screams, shoving his forehead against chilled cold skin as hot tears burned against his eyes, "Mom...This- this wasn't supposed to happen yet! Tim- what- why?"

"It's... it's most likely because of the disparities between timelines," his brother says, somehow making his technical blabber sound fucking sympathetic, "i think in this timeline, since you weren’t here to stop whatever from happening…”

“…Fuck,” he hisses, flinching slightly as he hears sirens wail in the distance.

“Do you need some time alone?” Tim asks hesitantly.

Jason grits his teeth. He- he doesn’t want to leave her alone- but, but damnit, Tim. Knowing the stupid little fucker would skitter off and do something so utterlyfucking effective yet idiotic. He sucks in a breath, “Just- just give me a sec, kid. I- i need to say goodbye…”

“Okay. Take your time…”

-----

Part 1, 2, 4

and the directory

#and yet the clock twists back #cursed object #tim drake #batman #batfamily #batfam #jason todd #fanfic #tw death #time travel

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winniemaywebber · 2 months ago

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Ooh, 15 a lone silver earring for either?

hi friend! thanks so much for this. You've got the whole gang at Thorpe Abbotts in this one 🤭

(from this prompt list and my inbox is open for more!)

under the cut to save space <3

The return of Harry Crosby had been a big one - the gang welcoming him back with open arms from his furlough, with plenty of whiskey in celebration of his news: his beloved Jean was pregnant, his four companions cheering at the news. Once things had quietened down, the night had taken a turn. They'd sat in silence in the Officer's Club, Croz being the first to talk after a long sip of whiskey.

“So, nothing of Rosie?”

“Nothing, pal,” Dougie replied quietly, staring into his glass. “You know we'd have told you the moment–”

“I know,” Croz replies, accidentally cutting his friend off. Dougie shakes his head to show it didn't upset him, reaching down to take Olive’s hand.

“I've been writing to Jo. Weekly, as usual. It's hard, Croz. I barely know what to say.” They all see Val’s eyes fill with tears, a rare occurrence. “I'm trying to keep her spirits up but it's…it's tough.”

“I saw. I know she's grateful for you doing that, trying to help her through. She has Jean by her side and you in writing.”

“All of us,” Ev joins, beginning to raise his glass. “She has all of us, because all of us have each other now. A toast,” he pauses, clearing his throat before speaking again. “To Rosie. May he return to us in one damn piece.”

“To Rosie.”

***

“Ollie,” Dougie sleepily whispers, nuzzling into her to stay warm. “You've gotta go before Red catches you.”

“Mhm,” she responds, eyes still closed. “Quit snuggling so I can even think about getting up.”

“I can't seem to stop,” he laughs. “You're stuck here.”

“Good to know you'd take being chewed out by Red and the Colonel just for extra snuggle time.”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.”

“Hey, Ol?” a voice calls from the other side of the hut.

“Yeah, Val?”

“There's a silver earring on Croz’s nightstand.”

“What's wrong with that?” Olive asks, finally sitting up. “You don't think–”

“I do think! He's been back in the country for less than a week, his wife is pregnant and he's…”

“You really think he'd start all that again after being with his wife for a month?”

“He's a man, Olive.”

“Hey!” both their men complain simultaneously, Dougie placing a hand on his chest in mock angst. “Ouch!”

“She's not wrong, James.”

“Look, are either of you sure it isn't yours? You could've left it here by mistake one of the times you've been in here.”

“Doug, I wouldn't wear this,” Val says, having made her way to its location and picking it up.

“Right. And I only wear gold so it sure as hell isn't mine.”

“Do you really only wear gold?” Dougie asks, his eyebrows stitched together in confusion.

“Be so for real right now, honey. How have you never noticed that?”

“I, errrm…anyway, this earring.”

“Good job you're cute,” Olive murmurs, pinching his cheek.

The group all join Val at the nightstand, all beginning to squabble.

“Maude, you sure it isn't yours?” Ev yawns, scratching at his head as he stretches.

“Everett Ernest, I answered that question a few minutes ago if you'd open your darn ears!” Olive lightly swings at him, the back of her hand making contact with the side of his head as they break into what can only be described as siblings play fighting, slapping gently at one another.

“What on Earth is going on in here, kids?” Harry Crosby saunters in, the remains of his scrambled egg on his mouth in a spot he'd missed when wiping, his voice breaking through the childlike arguments. “Been practicing my dad voice. Getting pretty good, huh?”

“Harry Crosby!” Valencia yells, pointing her freshly manicured nail at him. She turns, picking up the earring and holds it out in front of her. “What is this? You've been back not even a week!”

“Yeah, Croz. That's just not good, pal.”

“What are you all talking about?” Croz asks, hands on his hips as he tries to answer Dougie's remark. “The earring?”

“Yeah!” Olive says, taking it from Val and placing it in his hand. “Val saw it. If you're pissing about again, Harry…”

“Good God, no! I ended all that before I left. The earring,” he says, closing his hand around it as his face softens, “is Jean’s. It got caught up in one of my undershirts and I packed it by mistake.”

“Oh!” They group say, the relief palpable. “So, it's not–”

“No! Like I said, it's over. Jean knows. I know where I belong, too.”

“Aw, Croz,” Dougie says, patting his friend on the shoulder. “That's sweet, pal.”

“Yeah. Her earring is on my nightstand so it feels like I'm at home. She leaves everything everywhere. Gives me a little comfort while we wait for all this to be over.”

Olive pushes through the others to get to Croz, and hugs him tightly. “Glad to have you back, mate.”

“Glad to be back.”

He turns to Dougie, and nods in his direction. “Come on, bud. We've got a phone call waiting for us.”

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el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle · 7 months ago

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Hiiiiiiii, I'm so happy that you're active here again, you're one of my favorite accounts and the one I like to follow the most 😭☺️🫵🏻

What are your favorite headcanon or non canon (sorry if I wrote it wrong) from the plot? In fact, I read those posts you made about the canon of the novel, and you forgot to mention one. In the following episode or in a few episodes after Betty presents the real balance, Mario greets Marcela in the Ecomoda, she makes a joke about him being a great writer (because of the story of the letter with instructions), and says that he would be the best man at her wedding to Armando.

I'm practically 100% sure that this scene really happened and that I saw it, I'm not crazy lol but if it was another dialogue or I'm wrong, someone please let me know.

Hiiii!! I'm so glad you like my little blog🥰🥰🥰

I think I got slightly confused with your question, but I'll give you both my fav canon details (things that actually happened in the show) and my fav headcanons (things that aren't in the show but I totally wish they were!):

For the actual canon:

Patty trying to burn her ex's car. As if we needed any more proof that she's wrong in the head lmao

Betty and Armando both loving jazz and canonically quoting poems to each other!

Armando and Mario have been friends since they were in school!

Mario has such a phobia of kids that he straight up refused to meet family members until they were at least like 10 years old lmaoooo

Armando, a guy obsessed with order or cleanliness, nibbles on objects when anxious or stressed

Daniel does this too, and also bites his nails, btw

Daniel gives candy to Marcela everytime he sees her!

Armando's glasses and tie represent him. When he takes the glasses off, he's being vulnerable. When he takes the tie off, he's in a pretty bad mental state

Somewhere in Ecomoda's digit archives is a 9 pages word document detailing everything that happened between Daniel and Patricia and how Olarte and her caused damage to Betty's computer. The fact that it exists to this day and no one ever found the truth tortures me lmao

As for my favorite headcanons! They're just little things I kinda think could be true about the characters but nothing was ever said or full states about it:

Nicolás can't cook at all, not even a simple scrambled egg, but he makes the best bread ever. Literally the only reason I think this is because his mom has a bakery

Margarita and Roberto were a little similar to Marcela and Armando when young (much younger than Marcela and Armando were during the show, which is why they're frustrated that they haven't outgrown that reckless "phase"). My only reason to like this idea is that Margarita insists that Marcela needs to be patient and wait and that men will always need a refuge and get tired eventually, like she knows what she's talking about; like she knows what that's like. Roberto also seems to cough a little uncomfortable when Margarita and him are talking to Armando and she says something about how she would have left Roberto if he had hired a hot secretary or something along those lines lmao and Ik thinking that Roberto was a womanizer in his youth is so weird because he seems such a down to earth mature man, but believe me, you'd be surprised how much a former womanizer can change with age lmao

Armando was very good with sports, and he specially liked contact ones like boxing

Marcela was definitely the type of little girl who waited besides the front door and jumped excitedly when she saw her dad come home. We know she was her dad's favorite, that's canon

Margarita and Susana were away for a big part of their children's childhood. I think this because Roberto says that during the early days of Ecomoda, Margarita and Susana were in charge of the interior design and the design of the collections, and also that they traveled a lot

Armando was a very troubled teenager. My reason to think this is that, well, just look at how he is in the novela, and now imagine him with all the raging hormones of a teen, probably slightly absent parents, and an underdeveloped frontal lobe lmaoooo

The Valencias' parents died when Marcela, Daniel, ans Beata were kids. I like this better than them dying when the Valencia's are adults. This is technically canon but also not because the novela literally onlh mentions their deaths in relation to their kids' age TWICE and ysblf still managed to contradict itselfffffff. But I like to think that Julio qnd Susana died when their kids were little because it would explain a lot of their kids' behavior: Daniel, after losing his parents at a young age and being the oldest and only male in the family, he tried to grow up too quickly which is why even when he actually became an adult he's pretty much a charicature of what a 13 yo would think as mature: very serios, snarky, sarcastic, apparently stoic, rude, overly sexual, etc. He pretty much got stuck as a teen. Marcela, being a daddy's girl and losing him so young, she became unheathily attached to Armando. Maria Beatriz, being so young when her parents died, just ignores the whole thing and has no big sentimental attachment to Ecomoda or the family in general like Marcela does.

Armando was a big source of comfort when Marcela's parents died. I like to think this because a) we know they've known each other their whole lives, b) Armando can actually be affectionate and tender with Marcela, as we see only like once at the very beginning of the show, and c) strictly related to my hc above, I think it could be in part how she found refuge in Armando when kids after her parents died that she became so obsessily attached

Armando and Marcela were an on-and-off/ situationship thing for years. Not like actual bf/gf, but more like that awkward tension and perhaps a few kisses here and there, some hand holding, all of that. Armando probably also wasn't sure about formalizing the relationship for a long, long time, and it also probably took a lot of convincing from Roberto and Margarita to finally take that step

So yeah! Those are a few canon and headcanons that I like a lot hahaha! Thank you for this lovely question!

#ysblf #yo soy betty la fea #betty la fea #armando mendoza #beatriz pinzon solano #beatriz pinzón solano #marcela valencia #armando ysblf #betty ysblf #mario calderon

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chenziee · 9 months ago

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Your love, endless like the sky above

First of my three pieces for the @opblondebombshells zine!! It turned out absolutely gorgeous and is available for download for free as of today, so check it out! ✨

[ Read on AO3 | Ko-FI | Commissions ]

—————

As he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets with purpose, Sanji felt a wry smile pulling on his lips. He had never thought he would stand in this kitchen ever again. How many years had it been since he last touched this stove? Thirteen, fourteen years?

It was honestly a marvel this stove even was still here.

They had all this money, all this knowledge, and they couldn’t be bothered to get better and newer kitchen equipment.

Cosette and her team made such elaborate meals for their royal family every day with tools that were probably older than the head chef herself and they still got treated this way. It made Sanji want to kick their sorry asses to hell and back and there again.

Kingdom of Science my ass, he thought, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Sanji-sama, please! Let us cook for you, royalty shouldn’t have to—with this rusty, old equipment no less—”

“Nope,” Sanji said, raising one hand to silence the panicking cook. “Thanks for the concern but I’m a first-rate chef, not a prince.”

“But—”

“By the way, is the pantry still in the back?” Sanji asked, cutting the protests off before they could really start.

“Yes, sir.” The cook visibly deflated as he answered and Sanji huffed.

He supposed it was too much to ask for them to drop the formalities entirely. Shaking his head, Sanji thanked the man before making his way to the pantry—a route he could still walk blind, even after all these years. He could almost feel young Sanji’s heart racing in excitement from being allowed to walk in and grab ingredients for the first time.

Still innocent, still not realizing he was about to get himself—and the head chef—punished.

Royalty must not cook!

The angry words echoed in his mind despite no one speaking them, forever ingrained deep within him. He never understood the words, never even thought to adhere to them despite the inevitable backlash. Despite the hate and disgust and pain.

Even at six years old, he refused to give this up. And now, at twenty-one… there was no point living if he couldn’t step foot into a kitchen again.

Why was he thinking about this anyway?

Shaking his head, Sanji chased his fath—Vinsmoke Judge’s words away. Instead, he focused his gaze on what was in the pantry, his eyes scanning the contents. He hummed appreciatively at the quality of the food stored inside—even if the kitchenware and appliances were utter shit, at least no expenses were spared on the ingredients.

Not that Sanji would have any trouble working with shit-quality food, but it certainly made his life easier.

Grabbing two bananas, several eggs, some flour and sugar, and a few select spices, Sanji left the pantry again, closing the door behind him with his foot. He almost expected the old head chef to start freaking out, fretting over Sanji balancing too many things at once.

And honestly, he was right. When he was a kid, he’d barely had any idea what he was doing, always overestimating how much he would be able to carry without dropping anything or hurting himself. A smile on his lips, Sanji wished the old man could see him now, handling everything with ease. The last time they saw each other, it came with a complementary trip to the infirmary to get a bad cut treated.

He left everything on the kitchen counter to head for the fridge, mumbling to himself as he listed off the ingredients he still needed. It’d been so long since he made this combination of foods: grilled fish with some fresh bread, scrambled eggs, and banana flambé for dessert. All her favorite foods.

He would have wanted to add a small scoop of vanilla ice cream as well but since that would melt, he decided against it. Maybe he should make some mini apple tarts too while he was at it?

Oh, should he make some fried rice? He didn’t see any mice around but he was sure there were some hungry critters scurrying about. Even though he wasn’t there to make food for them anymore…

“Man, what am I thinking,” Sanji muttered to himself, sighing deeply. There was no way the mice he had befriended all those years ago would still be alive after all these years. Mice simply did not live that long.

But…

Well, what was the harm in cooking a little more than needed?

—————

A bouquet of flowers in one hand, a picnic basket in the other, Sanji made his way towards the far corner of the Germa main ship. It was quiet, hidden from view by trees and bushes—trees that had become much larger, bushes that had been left to grow, unkempt in the years of his absence.

Seeing the state of the garden, Sanji half expected to find his destination completely taken over by vegetation but instead, he was surprised to find the gravestone perfectly clean, only with a tiny, impromptu bundle of flowers in front of it, one made up of the wild plants growing in this small, hidden garden-turned-park.

Probably Reiju, Sanji thought to himself, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Hi, mom,” he said quietly as he carefully placed his own bouquet next to Reiju’s. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you sooner.”

He took a deep breath, willing his voice to stay steady. How pathetic; a grown ass man, getting all choked up at being by the grave of someone who had died over fourteen years ago…

“Zoro would have a fucking field day seeing me like this…” he muttered to himself, rubbing at his eyes. He hated how he suddenly missed the insufferable nicknames and annoying demands for booze.

He would take a fight with the Marimo over one second on Germa’s soil any day. Those were actually fun, if infuriating sometimes.

“You know, mom… I think you’d love the pirate crew I’m a part of. Luffy is so goddamn selfish and can inhale a month’s worth of meat before you can blink but he's always so happy with anything I make. It's fun cooking for him. Zoro is an ass and we fight constantly but he can tell the difference between good and shitty rice and as opposed to Torao, he doesn't throw a fit when I experiment with his rice balls. Nami-san never got to teach me how to make her special tangerine sauce… I could figure it out myself but I’d rather die than intrude like that…

“Usopp likes fish just the way you did and honestly it threw me off at first. Chopper. You'd love Chopper so much. He's like a stuffed animal who feeds on chocolate. We'd all be long dead without him.

"I like making Robin-chan's coffee and sandwiches when she's studying in the evening. She's the smartest person I've ever known; she could destroy Vinsmoke Judge in a second. Except she's not a piece of shit like him.

"Then there's Franky… if I wasn't there to feed him something decent, he would probably just eat junk food. And Brook, my god Brook. Mom, his table manners. His fucking table manners. It doesn't matter how many times I kick his boney ass, he still gets curry everywhere.

"And Jinbe—"

Sanji stopped suddenly, cutting his monologue short. Jinbe was their crewmate but…

"I guess I won't learn anything about him now, will I? I'm stuck here. With these shitty cuffs on my hands…"

He gulped heavily, clenching his shaky fists. He really was a fly caught in a spiderweb, wasn't he? Complete with his movements restricted, death lingering just at the edge of his vision, helpless.

Helpless, powerless… hopeless.

"Shit…” Sanji took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily before he dared speak quietly again. “Mom, I don't know what to do…"

But were there really any options left for him? The path was set the moment his wanted poster changed from Dead or Alive to Only Alive. There was no other way forward; no Baratie, no Merry, and no Sunny. No All Blue.

There was nothing but Germa 66, the family he had long since stopped considering a family, and Pudding-chan.

"At least with Pudding-chan, I'll be able to keep cooking. There would be no point living anymore if I couldn't… I want to keep cooking for my crew but Pudding-chan doesn't deserve me making that her problem.”

Sanji paused then, almost as if waiting for his mom to reply. But he knew that was impossible, knew no one would answer. He wasn’t sure he even wanted anyone to answer. Not when he was being so… so lame.

But in the face of his mother’s grave, the grave of the one person he could let himself be vulnerable with when he was a child… it was impossible to keep the facade up. He was tired. Tired of pretending, tired of staying strong, tired of saying he was ‘fine’.

And yet…

“But I’m fine, mom, don’t worry. I didn’t actually explain, did I? Pudding-chan is the girl I’m going to marry. She’s the Emperor Big Mom’s daughter but she’s very cute and very sweet. I might introduce her to you one day…” Or maybe he wouldn’t. He wasn’t so sure he’d even want his real family here—never mind a girl he met once, no matter how nice she was. He supposed time would tell.

As he tried to reach for his cigarettes, Sanji was suddenly reminded of the picnic basket in his hand. He blinked a few times, his gaze dropping to stare blankly at the small woven carrier, wondering how the hell he had managed to forget the most important thing, and he chuckled awkwardly.

“Ah, I hate talking about myself. But—” he paused, fumbling with the basket to pull out the items inside. “I brought you something. You know, I… After I ran away from here, I became a cook. A real, first-rate chef thanks to the shitty old man. My dad—you know, my actual dad—taught me everything I know so my cooking is actually real damn good. So…”

Sanji set the basket carefully on the ground, placing a small black, lacquered box in front of the grave before slowly opening it to reveal the carefully arranged contents of the lunch box—scrambled eggs, grilled fish, bread, and banana flambé.

“Do you remember? I made this for you once. Messed up real bad too. Then I dropped it and it got soaked in the rain, turning it completely inedible,” Sanji said with a genuine laugh. “I still remember Epony’s face when she tasted it.” He was sure he would never forget the face that twisted with disgust and pain from the awful, downright horrible, amount and mix of spices.

Shaking his head, he continued, “I know what I’m doing now though, so I added some bread and vegetables to make it actually feel like a meal,” Sanji pointed out, gesturing to the freshly baked bread that was hopefully still warm, as well as the carrots, radishes, and cucumbers cut and carefully styled into flowers. “Also here—” he added, turning back to the picnic basket to pull out the wine glass and a bottle of the best damn red wine he could find in Yonji’s shittily supplied wine cellar, pouring a perfectly measured glass for her with practiced ease.

A soft smile was still playing on his lips when he spoke his next words. “I know last time I did a terrible job but I—thank you for saying it was delicious back then.”

—————

Reiju wasn't sure how long she was standing behind one of the trees in the overgrown garden that had turned into a park around their mother's grave, waiting for Sanji. She wasn't sure… but she didn't really care. It had been thirteen years since she had helped Sanji escape from this place, thirteen years of Sanji living his own life like he was meant to. She was sure he had a lot to tell their mom, a lot to share about the East Blue, about Straw Hat, and about his friends.

For a while, Reiju wondered whether she should tell him they had come for him… but with Sanji's kindness, he would end up blaming himself for putting them in danger. And Sanji didn't deserve that; not when he was already being put through this foolish marriage plan of their father's.

And so, Reiju didn’t say anything; didn’t say anything when they met, didn’t say anything on their walk here, and she wouldn’t say anything later either.

For now… she would simply let him talk to mom as much as he wanted to and she would be there for him as long as she could throughout this whole mess, looking for a chance to let him escape again, just like she did years ago. After all, the cuffs on his wrist weren’t going to explode and on the off chance that Straw Hat would make it all the way to the very heart of Totto Land, there wouldn’t be any reason for him to stay—as long as Reiju could make sure the hostages in the East Blue were kept safe and as long as Sanji’s kindness didn’t keep him chained to Germa and this family.

Reiju waited for Sanji for a long time, left only with her thoughts and the faint sounds of their soldiers training. There really was nowhere to escape the military aspect in this kingdom, was there?

Shaking her head to make herself focus, Reiju quickly put her usual smile on her lips—the one that showed nothing of her real thoughts, one practiced to perfection over the long years of living with her father and brothers—before she turned to face Sanji once more as he approached her.

“Told her everything you wanted to?” Reiju asked, not commenting on the vulnerable expression on her brother’s face.

“Yeah,” Sanji replied quietly.

His eyes dropped downwards then and briefly, Reiju wondered whether he was hiding from her. But then he reached inside the picnic basket, pulling out a second, smaller lunch box and handed it to her wordlessly.

Reiju blinked. Her gaze fell to the box she was holding, then turned back to Sanji, who only gestured with his chin, prompting her to open it.

With a huff, Reiju carefully lifted the lid, peeking inside curiously… and soon, the corners of her mouth twitched upwards, her smile widening into a rare genuine, happy one. “Apple tarts?” she asked as if she couldn’t see them. “I can’t believe you remembered I like apples.”

“A good chef takes note and remembers their customers’ favorites,” Sanji noted with a shrug as if it were obvious.

And maybe it was, if this were any other family. But with the Vismokes… Reiju was used to no one besides Cosette even remembering she was deathly allergic to peanuts. After all, as long as it didn’t affect her battle performance, what did it matter?

“Thank you,” Reiju whispered.

“Yeah.” Sanji nodded, then paused, seemingly mulling over his words—or maybe looking for them. “Thank you, too.”

Reiju didn’t reply. She simply picked up one of the little tarts in her lunch box, taking a bite.

She had never tasted an apple so sweet.

#one piece #sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sora #reiju #vinsmoke reiju #fluff #hurt/comfort #family #zines #zine stuff #blonds zine #idk what to say here i'm so tired ararf #katie does a write #katie pretends to fic

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jaskierx · 6 months ago

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hi gay people in my phone who wants to hear about the Day i’ve Had

so like many of us i have a close friend from school who i was Weirdly Close with at the time and i was in love with her and i didn’t tell her and a few times we got drunk and made out and then one time we both got Really Drunk and had sex and i thought we’d go somewhere but in the morning she said she didn’t really remember it. and then later (by which point i had got together with my now husband) i told her i loved her in school and she told me she had been in love with me too but never told me and we were both kind of like ‘huh! well isn’t that something!!’

anyway i stayed with my partner and she dated a few people and eventually she started seeing this guy who is a dick and has moved her to a really remote area where his family live and she doesn’t know anybody there, she doesn’t have a job, she can’t drive, she’s relapsed with her ed, etc. and she’s marrying him next year and she desperately wants me to come to the wedding bc i’m all she has and he has vetoed it (understandably) bc he knows i don’t like him. and every time she’s drunk she messages me like ‘i wish you could come to the wedding. i’m really lonely here’ and i’ve made it so clear that if she ever wants out, i’ll make it happen, i’ll get her travel sorted, i’ll give her a place to stay, she is welcome to turn up on my doorstep unannounced in the middle of the night

and it’s been years now and i don’t see her much (like. once every couple of years) especially since she moved away. and we don’t talk very often anymore. so i kinda don’t think about it. it’s not something i’m actively worrying about. in my head i’d made my peace with it.

EXCEPT i had a really vivid dream last night (like the most vivid dream i’ve had in years) that she asked me to pick her up bc she wanted to leave him. and i did and he came home as we were leaving and had this big argument and we left anyway and went to my house. and she told me she loved me and had sex with me and my husband but in the dream it was like. entirely focused on her and then i woke up and my brain has felt like scrambled egg ever since bc it felt so fuckin real and i do not like it

bc it’s like. i don’t want to be with her. i love her and she will always be important to me but i don’t want to be her partner and i don’t want to sleep with her and i haven’t wanted that for years and years and i never want to be with anyone but my husband ever again. but i also don’t want her to marry that guy and be stuck there forever! i want better for her! he’s going to end up making her have a bunch of kids she doesn’t want and being his housewife forever and i just want to like. rescue her. which i don’t have the right to do. bc she can make her own choices and doesn’t need saving and even if she did i am not the person to do that

but i’ve spent the whole day sitting like 🫥🫥🫥 bc wtf is my brain doing man i don’t need this i had to go to work and have Meetings today. and instead i’m constantly turning the whole situation over in my head and also worrying that i’m a terrible person for essentially having a sex dream involving someone i know and have previously fucked while i’m asleep next to my partner yk. anyway!!!!!!

#don’t read this it’s way too long #tbd #lyse.jpg

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lightofraye · 5 months ago

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You keep saying Jensen’s stories about the kids aren’t true because they’re generic and lack heart. Fine. You said you’re a mom. Tell us a few stories that you deem good enough then…

Hello anon!

I accept your challenge!

Shall I regal you about how, as a baby (roughly 10-11 months old), we introduced scrambled eggs to my son? He loved them. But he wouldn’t sit still for us to feed him. Oh no. He would do these little bird beak motions with his lips and swoop a bite from our spoon every time he was ready to eat more!

Or the first time I introduced spaghetti to him? Oh lord. To this day I’m not convinced he even ate any—it was all over him! But he wanted more the next day so I’m gonna have to assume he actually ate it and liked it.

Or how about when I gave him frosted animal crackers? He was charmed by them, grabbed the whole plate and proceeded to eat them while playing with his toys. Or so I thought. Then he called me and I looked over—and my eyes widened. He had shoved the crackers into his hot wheels car carrier semi to transport them. One friend noted, after I shared the story, that he had the right concept….

Or how he fell asleep with his elbow in his pizza. Or decided to use mash potatoes as a kind of exfoliant on his arm….

Here’s one with my daughter.

She had asked me to sample something she had made. I did, and within a few chewing bites, I tasted the spice and she saw the look on my face.

“Too spicy?!”

Me: “Yes! What’s in that?!”

She rattled off a list and cayenne caught my attention.

Me: “How much did you put in there??”

Her: “Just like 1/4 teaspoon!”

Me: “God! Too much!”

She couldn’t believe it. Y’all… I’m SENSITIVE to anything remotely spicy. I can’t even tolerate mild sauce from Taco Bell, okay? I’m pitiful.

See? Real stories! Hilarious stories! Stories with heart!

I mean… there was one time I tried this ground beef and broccoli recipe. First time. Looked good, but would it taste good?

My son eyed it dubiously. After all, it had dun dun dunn—vegetables!

I urged him to try. Just a couple of bites. I promised him if he didn’t like it, then it’s okay. He tried.

He nodded, tried a bite—and his whole face lit up! He liked it!

I couldn’t finish my own plate before he asked for seconds.

I made extra for lunch the next day—I ended up not having any extra because he ate it all for dinner!

Where’s the story of the kids’ first brain freeze in trying ice cream? Or a new flavor?

(My daughter and I tried this Blue Moon ice cream a couple of months ago. We had gotten curious about it because it was blue! Hated it. Oh my gods.)

Where’s the story about a new jam/jelly flavor that they hated? Or peanut butter making it hard for them to talk for a moment? Or…

Like… Jensen tried to claim Danneel was trying new French recipes or Italian recipes (the man can’t stay on one story)—okay. How did the kids take to the new stuff? Any favorites? Any horror stories?

It. Is. Lacking!

#anti danneel #anti elta #jensen concern #jensen supportive

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pbandjesse · 2 months ago

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What a nice day. My mom is here!! And it's been so nice to have her over. And what a beautiful day to have her here.

I forgot it was day light savings. So I was woken up by the sun shining in my eyes but it was 630am. So like I guess I don't have to complain about waking up in the dark anymore. But man was it confusing when the sun would set at 530. When I realized it was so early I went back to sleep.

I woke up at 830 and texted my mom. She said dad also forgot it was day light savings. But she would leave in about an hour and be to our place before noon. Amazing.

In the mean time I would try to get some stuff accomplished. I made the bed. I cleaned up. I felt cute in my outfit. James would make me a hash with scrambled eggs and cheese. Which was excellent. While I waited for them to finish that I also checked on Crabcake who was very very buried. I would check back on him later.

We made sure the house looked nice. Put Ruby the Roomba upstairs to vacuum. We also put the baby room back together so it would look nice. I need to get some new baskets to organize some of the toys I've gotten but it's low on the list of things to do. At least for now it just looks more out together.

We would hang out on the couch for a long time. Just scrolling. All of a sudden I felt zapped of energy. I think some of it was the day lights savings making me think it was later. But also I was just. Tired. And it made me frustrated. It also made me feel very introspective. Like I would struggle to maintain conversations today. Kind of like with Celia on Friday. Like I am really happy to be there but man am I struggling to maintain topics.

I was also a little emotional. Sobbing watching Chappell Roan on Saturday Night Live. Just being so proud of her. But that also might have been me being so tired.

We moved to the studio as it got closer to when my mom was going to arrive. We dug up Crabcake and I felt bad waking him up but I would move more dirt into his favorite cup hide. And later we would find him sleeping in there so it made me feel better being able to see him. I just want him to be okay. Love him so much.

Mom called when she got in. And I waited at the door for her to come in. Sweetp desperately wants to go out the front door but we prevented him from doing so. And then Mom was here and I was so happy.

She had a few little presents for me. Those wooden bowls I asked for her to find. An interesting bracelet loom. But mainly I was just excited to see her.

We would show her around the new stuff at the house. The washer and dryer. The new back door. The fence. Showed her our chia plant, the persimmons, our singular pepper. I think it's fun to show her the things I'm sure she's read about here. And just be proud of our little home.

We also showed her the baby room. And she seemed very impressed. She also teased me about how many clothes I've gotten but it's really not that's many!! But it was nice showing her everything.

We would all sit in me and James bedroom for a while. I gave her my grandma's pendant back that I had used at our wedding. She told me about a family member I didn't know who recently passed away. How she had 8 kids and it's amazing how a family can multiply. 8 kids, their partners, their kids. The love from her just spread. And I hurt for their loss but it is amazing to think about how she made so many people! Truly amazing, but only one facet of a whole life.

I suggested we go and paint pottery. Get Starbucks. Spend some quiet time together doing a craft. Me and James had been thinking about making pottery for baby so this was going to be a nice time.

It was beautiful out. The leaves were changing and were the perfect color. Amazing glaze was very busy so they took my number and we walked over to Starbucks to wait.

Somehow both me and Mom's drinks were not exactly correct but it was whatever. James went in the whole foods and got us slices of pizza. And we talked and talked and it was just really nice.

I am trying to not have baby and pregnancy be the only thing I talk about. But it's for sure the first and easiest thing to talk about. It's hard when everything else is so hard to do. I am trying to talk about other stuff but it's nice to talk about the good stuff and the bad stuff with my mom. And it was just nice being together.

When we got called back to amazing glass I tried to tell Mom how everything goes. How you layer the glaze and stuff like that. She's never painted pottery before and I was excited she agreed to come. It's one of my favorite activities.

Me and James picked a low bowl and a regular bowl to paint for baby. Not exactly those birthday cake plates people do but sort of in our vibe. Mom decided to paint an ice cream cone cup! I never pick the shaped or character things so I was excited that we were getting something different. The planned baby shower is ice cream themed so this was so cute.

Me and James were painting trees. Which is based on our planned baby name. And I really loved how James's tree has the supports on the sides. James liked how I also made a leaf pile in the middle of mine. I hope it comes out nicely.

Mom decided that the ice cream should be pink. I think because baby is a girl. Fair enough. I think it looked very cute. And I was just having a very nice time being all together. James was half watching the football game on their phone and updating us. And the energy was just really good and positive.

We finished up and mom paid which was really sweet. And then we came back home.

We were all kind of sleepy. James decided to go for a walk in the park. Mom went to lay down. And I laid on the couch quietly. I decided not to try and sleep but just rested instead.

James would come home and cuddled with me on the couch. And soon Mom would wake up. We all chilled in the kitchen/living room until we got word from Anne and Tucker that they were on their way. We were all going to have dinner together.

When they got here I was excited to show them the baby room too. It was nice to see them. Tucker was happy that the ravens won their game but seemed really tired and quiet. Anne looked good and my mom kept telling her how nice she looked which was sweet. Everyone was in a nice mood.

We went to Mathews. We missed out on the large table so we had to wait a bit. But we chatted by the door and it was still nice. When we did finally get a seat we were just talking about sports and baby and party and work. It was fun. Our waitress was a little frazzled though and would get our order wrong so my pizza came out long after everyone one else finished theirs. But honestly it was fine. I had been feeling a little sour in my belly and was nervous about eating anyway so I wasn't in a rush to each. They had ordered a margarita and a regular mozzarella pizza and I tried the regular mozzarella and honestly I found it pretty boring. My Thai pie was worth waiting for.

When it did finally come I was thrilled. I actually felt better and was able to eat without issue. I was in a good mood. I was surrounded by love and it was just a really nice night.

We would soon say goodbye though. Hugs all around. And then we were off.

James drove us home. We would hang in the living room all on our phones. Sharing things and talking and playing with sweetp. Sweetp got really cuddly with me which is so lovely but it did make my allergies go off and I became pretty uncomfortable. We would still hang out down there for a long time. But James would eventually head upstairs. Their body was still like. It's late. And was getting sleepy. And soon me and Mom would come upstairs too.

I took a shower to help my sinuses. And made sure mom was alright in the guest room. She reminded me we need a smaller lamp for in there. She's very right and it's something I need to work on. I have a lamp but no shade so it's still to bright. I'll figure it out soon.

Now I am sitting at our bedroom desk. And James is sleeping. And I hope to sleep soon too.

Tomorrow James has promised to make us breakfast and then me and mom are going to go to Ellicott city to check out some antiques stores. And I just hope it's a fun day.

I hope you all are doing okay. I hope you aren't feeling to stressed. I love you all. Goodnight!

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lindsaywesker · 2 years ago

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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Happy Hump Day!

I was listening to last week’s ‘A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’ (and what a damn fine show it is) and I was listening closely to the lyrics of ‘Don’t Go Messing With My Heart’. It reminded me of this insightful thing that Bob Marley once said. He wasn’t just one of the greatest songwriters of all-time, he was also a very empathetic man. Marley once said, “The biggest coward of a man is to awaken the love of a woman without the intention of loving her.” Those words have always stuck with me. Cowards start something and, once the woman starts ‘catching feelings’, the coward backs away. In my past, I admit, I guess I’ve messed with women’s hearts, and I’ve certainly had my heart trampled on a few times! Listen, women can be clumsy and careless too! Why do we do this? Some people don’t give a damn, of course. Men, in particular, will say absolutely ANYTHING to get a woman into bed. Men will literally promise a future just to get their end away. A future! Men will literally lie about wanting a relationship and marriage and kids JUST to get inside a woman’s drawers! And this always brings me back to the words of another very wise person, legendary madam, Cynthia Payne. Ms. Payne suggested that men are a lot more considered and coherent once they’ve “de-spunked”. Until that physical reaction has occurred, men are just talking – not to put too fine a point on it – shit!

I don’t wish to put you off your breakfast but, amazingly, people use wet wipes and just flush them straight down the toilet. As you know, some people pour hot cooking oil straight down the sink. So, as you can imagine, this delightful combination of waste matter, wet wipes, food and cooking oil congeals together to make this ultra thick, ultra juicy ‘fatberg’ down in the sewer. Someone then has the unpleasant task of breaking down these blockages into smaller pieces, so they can float away into the sea (and we can swim in them!) What a great job! No, people, wet wipes don’t dissolve!

How very kind of City News to post a free ‘Special Coronation Edition’ through my letterbox! I’m supposed to get excited about a man that had an affair with his wife’s friend, failed to protect his wife from a paparazzi that ultimately hounded her and hunted her down until she was dead, paid no inheritance tax on his mum’s billions (in a time of hardship for many), and installed his mistress as the new queen. Even if he didn’t love Diana, Charles should have tried every member of the paparazzi (and their editors) for treason, protected his wife, and then at least William and Harry would still have a mother! No, I won’t be celebrating the coronation. This free newspaper will line my dustbin!

I adore chocolate and I know a bargain when I see one! My local Tesco is selling-off £4.00 chocolate Easter eggs for £1.00. That deal is too good to resist. My family are NOT impressed, though I suspect they pretend to be appalled at my greed. Thankfully, I have managed to convince that it is NOT me buying the chocolate eggs but that they are breeding in our dining room while we sleep!

Want to know what it’s like in my house? At lunch time, I said to The Trouble, “What do you want in your sandwich? Bacon or egg!” “BOTH!” she said. And, that’s what it’s like in our house! Just call me Cinderella! So, I grilled the bacon, scrambled the eggs and she had both! “I’m so lucky!” she said, as she chomped into her sarnie. Happy wife, happy life, innit?

Have a wonderful and well-endowed Wednesday. I love you all. Yes, a crazy, bald man loves and cares about you.

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #new blog #lockdown #coronavirus #books #weekend #democracy #brexit #cronyism #election #radio

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lovestuckyhatemarvel · 1 year ago

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I took a day or so off because of life factors and now it’s a rainy Saturday and I’m gonna at least watch a few episodes and give some reactions to random stuff as well as note things I forgot or didn’t notice before. I at some point will stop doing an intro since I don’t think anyone is reading these consistently.

1.) I forgot El really just starts this episode back at the last time we saw her in episode 1, like almost a full year before season 2 starts.

2.) honestly I’d forgotten this sequence in general of her reaching through the placenta hole in the wall and then making it bigger.

3) I especially forgot that Mike kind of saw her through the window while agents are trying to get him to talk and he just keeps staring at the window like a dipshit

4.) I love this comically large tree that El can hide under that no one checks.

5.) Jonathan still does scrambled eggs and toast as a speciality

6.) Erica exists now

7.) the montage of the costumes us so cute

8.) Mike being a little bit racist

9.) I forgot literally no one else dressed up

10.) hopper is still very sweet and patient about Will when talking to Joyce

11.) I don’t care about these guys in the lab even though I probably should care about them fixing a power issue

12.) I fully understand where Nancy is coming from and I hate that at this point the Hollands are wasting their time and money and are tearing themselves looking for Barb when she will never come home. That being said, Steve isn’t wrong here. There is a shadowy agency that literally killed a man and covered it up as a suicide and covered up Will’s disappearance with a fake body that resulted in a funeral. They could really put themselves and others in danger. And something not fully discussed in this scene is: literally what would they even say? “hey, long story short, your daughter was killed by a creature from another dimension and her body is still there but you can’t talk to anyone about it or get her back or anything. Anyway, thanks for the McDonald’s.” Like that would be worse and they probably would not believe it anyway.

13.) Steve doesn’t even say forget forever, he asked to pretend to be normal on Halloween for one night

14.) I adore Max and if I’d known her in middle school, I’d desperately want to be her friend

15.) ok but how did el go from not knowing what half of food is to knowing how to skin and cook a squirrel? Like who taught her to do that? Her skill level varies wildly

16.) Billy is the fucking woooooooooooooorst and if he hadn’t died in season 3, it would have been something I did on my own in fanfic. People wanting to save him is crazy to me. He literally ran a bunch of kids off the road with his speeding car as one of the first things in the show!!!

17.) Jonathan not seeing what his mom likes bob is kind of hilarious to me because there’s a non insignificant chance that’s what he’s like when he’s 40

18.) still love Jonathan and will being adorable bros

19.) why is Billy so greasy???? Did he lather in baby oil before doing a keg stand???

20.) It was Nancy’s idea to go to this stupid party in the first place but now that she’s going with Steve instead of Jonathan, its a chore. Like ma’am you could have stayed home or insisted on doing some other normal thing. And by you, I mean the Duffers could have made up their minds

21.) bob and Joyce dancing in the living room is so cute

22.) every time max appears on screen I grin and whisper, ‘that’s my girl’, especially when she jump scares boys

23.) hop broke a promiseeeee but also that small child was only out there for hopper to buy candy off of

24.) max lives on Old Cherry Road

25.) Mike hating Max for no damn reason is so annoying

26.) jump scared right into the upside down

27.) Jonathan shows up to the party. Forgot that happened.

28.) all Steve was trying to do was stop Nancy from giving herself alcohol poisoning and he did apologize. But then she shatters his heart.

29.) Steve did leave her at the party which sucks but idk how I would be able to do anything else if someone called me a killer and said our love was bullshit

30.) I forgot El visits Mike through the void

31.) oh hi demodog. I remembered you were found in a trash can but not that you technically show up in episode 2, although not like seen by the audience

#stranger things #stranger things rewatch #season 2 #s2e2

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impyssadobsessions · 2 years ago

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Raising Phantom Chpt 8

Raising Phantom on Ao3

Jason sat up next to his favorite gargoyle as a kid, watching the city in thought. Duke, after the party, had confirmed something odd was with Danny and Vlad. Having caught a second glimpse of Vlad as he stormed out after recovering from a punch from Bruce. Which was a shock in itself as he was supposedly knocked out cold. Would have taken a normal man at least a few hours. Duke had tried his best to explain the image, but best he could describe it was a holographic card where it was two images at once. Danny's was a boy with white hair, and Vlad's was a vampire. It sounded ridiculous if Jason didn't remember that weird feeling he had when the boy was near. He had almost forgotten-well forgotten wasn't right word- He had accepted that strange feeling. It was eerie at first but grew comforting around the kid. He tapped his foot on the edge of the stone. Vlad had a weird pull too, he didn't notice until Duke pointed it out. He had assumed it was Danny, until he tried to track Vlad. Vlad always knew where to look for him, so he disappeared once he confirmed the feeling. Dick suggested that perhaps it was a freak accident both of them were apart of? Kept it secret from Jazz? But Jason doubted it. Tim brought up their unknown parents. Jason glared at the city view. That sounded plausible, they were responsible could be the reason they all had a falling out. “..I never known a boring day in my life..” Jason flexing his hand as he recalled Jazz's voice back in the library. Definitely pointed towards parents. Dead brother too. Jason stood up with a huff, he needed to stop reflecting on it. Let the others keep playing this game, but he was going to stomp his foot down if they cross the line. Stretching as he stared over the horizon. He definitely going to keep an eye on Danny. Though the tabloid story was going to make it hard. Stupid gossip. ---

Ever since they've arrived home, Vlad has been on their couch playing the 'pitiful me' card. He would whine about the gala, how foolish he looked. He begged Jasmine and Danny to let him get back at Bruce, which both declined. “Mr. Wayne started most of the foundations and fundraisers in Gotham as well as provide jobs for the city. INCLUDING the improvements made to both my college and future place of work. You can't hurt him because he punched you for threatening his kids!” Jazz would explain for a millionth time as she give Vlad his cup of coffee. Her hair wired and frizzed. Vlad was driving her nuts. “All for show! I bet the money ends up in the rogue's pockets.” Vlad sip his cup of coffee, while sitting in his fancy robs that were out of place on the makeshift bed of a couch. He gagged at the taste of the coffee, and made a face as if to tell Jazz his opinion of it, only to snap his mouth shut at the look she gave him. He cleared his throat, setting the coffee down. “BESIDES I was well within my right! What were you two thinking running off with those brats!?” Danny who was lazily poking at his scrambled eggs, “Thinking of kicking Dick and that it be funny to be kidnapped.” “Danny.” Jazz huffed, hands on her hips as she whipped back to face him. Danny just shrugged at her. “And you Jasmine!? Off with that boy! Have you lost your mind girl?! Bad boy look? REALLY-” “Not the first time-” Danny mumbled, only to get a look from Jazz. Message loud and clear, 'You're not helping!'. “Why can't you go to Harvard?! Or anywhere else!? I have the funds, my girl, just choose a place to go. You and Daniel don't have to stay in this filthy apartment, in this waste of a city! With terrible coffee and cat piss lining the hallways. You don't have to be here. That Asylum will get you killed and these vigilantes are like flies on a rotten carcass. So I trust them as little as I would Bruce to have a thought in his head!” Vlad moving dramatically, expressing with his hands as much as his voice. “I told you, Vlad. This is important to me! If I can learn and improve things here, then I can help so many more people than I could by being a family therapist. I could actually make a difference in their lives and the lives they affect. That's worth more than a comfy job writing psychology books and being a celebrity's psychologist.” Jazz huffed out of breath, tired of arguing her point. “And that's worth more than dying? What about Danny then?!” Vlad pointed out. His words making Danny flinch. Danny just stuffed his face with his eggs, looking away from them. He didn't want to be apart of this. “What if you perished because of your obsession with helping this god-forsaken place?! Of course I would take in Daniel, but his core would be damaged! Ghosts don't take grief well.” He hissed the last part. Danny frowned. Wanting to say he was fine, but the image of Dan made him shiver as he stabbed his eggs. At least growing up again means delaying looking like his future self... past.. self? He would only be four years younger than Dan was... Danny's eye twitched at the thought, hands clenching tight the fork in his hand. “I know that Vlad, but I have you know we TALKED about it. To get a doctorate in psychology will take years, so my plans won't even be in full swing until he's almost grown. Also I like to remind SOMEONE that I have nanobots in my blood stream so I be a bit harder to kill.” She put her hands on her hips. Vlad cleared his throat, looking away from her at the mention. He put the coffee mug to his lips, “Yes, well. I still think your obsession with this city is just as bad as your parents-” Vlad felt a dark chill down his spine that not even his hot watery coffee could warm. He quickly stammered to correct himself, “Oh. .did I .. I mean um. You know what, dear Jasmine. I-i think I may have been a little... dramatic. You are a grown woman and.. have.. your own ...ambitions. Who am I to judge...? hm?” He sipped his coffee loudly, as he stared at Jazz, whose eyes glimmered darkly. He was hoping that was enough to cool the situation. Jazz took a deep breath and turned away to grab her lunch bag and purse. Danny pushed from the table, hopping down to follow her, only for Jazz to put her hand in front of Danny to stop him. “Stay here with.. UNCLE Vlad, Danny. I'll be back at dinner.” Jazz running her fingers through her hair before putting it up in a ponytail. Danny stumbled back, confused. “What?! Why do I have to be punished?! Vlad's the one that-” “Danny, PLEASE. I just want to be alone, okay?” Jazz looked exhausted. Clearly she needed the break. Danny scrunched up his face and crossed his arms with a huff. Cursing Vlad in his head. “Don't worry about making dinner dear Jasmine! I-I'll order from that run-down- I mean quaint Italian restaurant you like.” Vlad doing his best to get on her good side, realizing how badly he slipped up with that comment. “Daniel and I will have a wonderful time.” Jazz and Danny both groaned as she turned to stomp out, closing the door with a hard slam behind her. Danny flinched at the noise, and rubbed his arm. He stared down at his feet. This was first time in a while he seen her so upset. If he wasn't so small, they wouldn't have to argue like that. They could dump Vlad and be on their merry way. Danny sighed, then he glanced over to Vlad who dramatically flailed back on the couch with a groan. A hand over his face as the coffee was set on the table. He too let out a loud sigh. “What am I going to do with that girl? Insisting on living like this- surely you would like somewhere better? Right Daniel?” “Danny. And it's fine.” Danny muttered as he walked over to the table where his breakfast still sat. He picked up his plate and decided to throw it away. He didn't feel hungry anymore. “You two don't even have to live with me! It could be an apartment in a safer place. Nothing too fancy.” Vlad waved his hand as he talked, the other still on his face. Danny snorted. Vlad's version of nothing too fancy was far drastic than their image of it. “Vlad, I don't even want you here, let alone a place you own.” “Yes yes. Because of the cloning, the murder plotting, and all that.” Vlad sighed again, before removing his hand off his face peaking at the corner where Danny emerged from the kitchen. “But seriously, you can't be happy here. Aren't you afraid of what could happen to her?” Danny flinched and stared down at his feet. He rubbed his arm as he swayed in his spot. He debated on answering him. “I'm fine.. and of course.. I worry. But I delayed her life already, she deserves to seek out her dreams, ya know?” Vlad stared at him and then rolled over on the couch with a groan. “You two will be the death of me.” Danny rolled his eyes as he moved through the living room. He glanced at the tv that was playing one of Vlad's favorite soap operas, and then glanced over to the door to his room. He debated on just watching videos or playing in his room, but.. He glanced at the front door. “Hey... Vlad?” Danny asked hesitantly, refusing to look at the man. “Yes, Daniel?” Vlad never moved to look at him either, his voice showing his exhaustion. His tired face staring at the tv screen. Danny stared at his hands, the question catching in his throat. Vlad waited a few moments, then shuffled to get up on his elbows, staring back at Danny with a raised brow. Danny twiddling his fingers, frozen. “Well? Get on with it.” Danny jerked staring back up at Vlad, matching his eyes. He blinked for a moment then glanced back to the side, taking a breath. Gathering his courage to ask in a squeaky, “......How's mo- how's our... parents doing?” Vlad's eyes stayed on Danny for a hard moment. Danny could see out the corner of his eyes, Vlad's flashing red with rage before cooling down. He sat up with a heavy groan, rubbing his face with his hand. Looking older by the minute. “Daniel-Danny.. its best you forget about them.” “I want to know.” Danny stated firmly or as firmly as he could. Vlad shook his head, looking away from the child. He propped his head on his hand, while he drummed his fingers with his other hand on the coffee table. His face morphing into sympathy or perhaps pity as he thinks about what to tell Danny. “They're still alive and bumbling fools.” Vlad rolled his tongue, trying not to let his anger get the best of him. “Do they.. still-” Danny tried to asked, afraid of the answer but wanting to hear it. His fist balling up in his shirt. “Yes. They still think you took their child- Danniel-Danny I really do think its best you stop worrying about them.” Vlad really reluctant to tell Danny more, not wanting to mention how delusional their parents had gotten. “I can't.” Danny stressed, pulling on his shirt. Vlad nodded, “Of course you can't. Oh what am I going to do with you?” Vlad's voice sounded more concern and gentle than Danny was use to. Danny stared at the floor, feeling his eyes water. Stupid. He knew the answer before he asked. He took breaths to keep his tears back and turned to run into his bedroom. The tv clicked off and he felt a ruffle of his hair before he could run. “I think we're overdue for a flight, don't you little badger?” Vlad smiled. “Don't try to teach me anything.” Danny said, his voice shakier than he would have like. “Don't plan on it, now come along. Be embarrassing to be out in our jammies.” Vlad ushering Danny towards the bedroom. “Jammies?” Danny questioned the childish nickname for pjamas. “Pjs, pjamas, sleepwear.” Vlad tiredly explained. Danny just frowned, but just wiped his face and sighed. He ran to his room to change, trying his best to forget about his parents again. He still didn't really get the answer he wanted, but perhaps its better he didn't know how far they were going.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #vlad masters #jazz fenton #jason todd #dp x dc #fanfic #raising phantom #de-aged danny

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newtonsheffield · 3 years ago

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I really need take me home Anthony meeting Mary and Edwina, maybe building them something

Okay but imagine Mary's surprise when Kate literally up and leaves her life and moves to the wilderness after shrugging and saying

"I think I met the person I'm gonna spend the rest of my life with. He makes everything feel calm, and quiet, and I need that. He's... Anthony's gentle."

"Then I can't wait to meet him."

"Do you wanna meet my mum?"

Anthony startled, his stomach churning when he looked at his girlfriend standing in their kitchen, the early morning sun shining in her hair, his flannel shirt landing midthigh as she made them breakfast.

He usually sat, very awkwardly while Kate was on the phone with her family, mumbling 'lo Mary when Mary asked if he was there. And of course he'd wonder, what Mary must think about her daughter, who now sold paintings through her agent in London, who she saw only on computer screens for the most part now. Because she'd run away to live in the forest with a man.

He tried not to freeze, though Kate was looking at him gently, no judgement, no expectation, just waiting for him to voice what he wanted.

"Do you want me to meet your Mum?"

Kate tilted her head, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs across the counter to him. "I'm going to go visit her and Eddie, at the end of the month, there's that long weekend."

His brow furrowed, nerves tugging at his stomach, "That didn't answer my question."

Kate chuckled, kissing his temple, her arms wrapped around him. "Bear, if I didn't want you to come I wouldn't have asked. I love you, and I want to spend a really long time together, so I want you to hang out with my family. But if you aren't ready then you don't have to."

And when she said it like that, it burned in his chest the future she saw for them, where he was part of her family, where they could be married, where she'd be proud to be the mother of his children, and her family would be happy to see it.

"Um Okay. Let's go see your Mum."

And the smile she'd given him had been so beautiful he'd never wanted to see anything else ever again.

_________

"You don't need to be nervous. Mary's gonna love you." Kate hummed from the passenger seat of her car, her fingers intertwined with his, his hand dragged to rest in her lap. "And you're probably gonna have to put up with a few lumberjack jokes from Edwina but she's gonna love you too."

Anthony felt the nerves clawing at his stomach again. "Kate, babe, I have long hair, and a beard, and I live in the middle of the fucking woods. I don't think I'm the kind of guy your Mum wants you to marry and have kids with."

Kate's finger poked at his ribs, her voice teasing, "Oh are we getting married? Having babies."

His cheeks flushed when he thought about the engagement ring hidden in his workshop, a huff leaving him. "Yeah probably. You don't want a little cub?"

He could see Kate smiling from the corner of his eyes, her voice soft, "Yeah, I wouldn't mind a few little bear cubs."

It should have calmed him, but by the time he'd pulled up in front of the house Kate had directed him to, he was nearly beside himself.

He took his time, getting out of the car, setting newton down on his paws gently, Tugging their suitcases from the boot, trying not to make it too obvious as he fixed his hair, straightened his flannel shirt.

"You look handsome, honey." Kate hummed standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, her fingers intertwined with his tugging him forward, unlocking the front door without a second thought, the curtains twitching in the front window.

"Mary?" Kate called through the house, panic clawing at his chest.

"Kate um maybe I should-" Anthony started, his fingers tightening on hers, but she kept her hand pressed to his back, the same way he did when the rain beat against the roof and her breathing came in panicked gasps.

"You're good. You're okay, they're gonna love you." She said gently, as a kind voice called out.

"In here, sweetheart!"

He was being tugged through the house, passed walls and walls of photographs, into a cozy living room.

A smallish woman was sitting on the sofa, her eyes widening a little in surprise as he squeezed himself through the doorway after Kate, a kind smile on her face.

"Mary, this is Anthony. Anthony, this is my Mum, Mary."

Anthony felt himself nod awkwardly, "Mrs Sharma, it's lovely to meet you, ma'am."

Anthony had barely gotten it out before Mary Sharma had darted forward, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist for a long moment.

"I've heard so much about you, Anthony."

"Probably nothing good." He said a little gruffly, heat rising in his cheeks.

Mary tilted her head to the side, "Oh I wouldn't say that."

The front door opened and slammed, Anthony taking the opportunity to rifle through his bag for the gift he now felt a little stupid presenting, Kate's brow furrowing in confusion.

"Did I miss Paul Bunyan's arrival?! I didn't see a blue Ox parked outside!"

Anthony's cheeks burned while Mary sighed, Kate calling back, "Can you not be a twat for 15 seconds?!"

A younger version of Mary popped her head inside a guffaw falling from her lips, sidling up to him a little aghast.

"Holy- What did your parents feed you?!"

"Edwina!" Mary admonished lightly casting Anthony an apologetic smile. "This is Kate's little sister, who's usually better behaved."

Kate was rolling her eyes, Tugging Anthony tighter against her chest.

"I'm actually... I'm the shortest of my brothers."

Edwina looked horrified. "There are more of you?!"

He hummed. "I'm afraid so."

"Can you bench press me for instagram later? I just think it would be really funny."

Kate sighed, nudging him in the ribs, "Bear why don't you give Mary your present."

Anthony thrust it forward, the small box he'd made, inlaid with a herd of deer, one for each member of their family including the father missed so desperately, set against the forest. Maple wood he'd chosen specifically. his voice stuttering in his chest.

"I feel a bit stupid-um- I made this- I do woodworking in my spare time and I thought, It's just a box, for photos and stuff."

Mary was looking at it so kindly, her smile gentle as she stared down at it, "You made this?"

He nodded, panic welling in his chest. "It's not- I just like working with my hands."

"Anthony built our house, did I tell you?" Kate hummed, our house falling so easily from her lips.

"You're very talented, anthony, thank you." Mary hummed, "Why don't you sit down?"

And slowly, he started to relax.

"She really likes you." Mary hummed to him a little later, as Kate and Edwina sat on the opposite side of the room laughing about something, he wasn't really sure what. Didn't care honestly, just wanted to hear her laugh forever. "She came right back here and told me she was in love with you. Told me you were gentle."

Anthony cleared his throat, taking the opportunity he saw. "I really love her. And I know this probably isn't what you want for her, and I'm too quiet, and I don't know how to say how I feel sometimes but I look after her. I make sure she eats when she gets bogged down in her painting, and I put her snow tyres on, and I make sure she has enough blankets and I'll love her the way she deserves. I'll show her I can."

Kate's mother stared back at him for a very long moment before she hummed, "Well that's all I'd ever want for her."

#take me home country roads #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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nochuvalencia · 4 years ago

Text

𝐁 𝐁 𝐇 𝐌 𝐌 - jjk

I was basically inspired by these ^^^ pics of jk bc wow hot hi

⚠️ ALSO QUICK DISCLAIMER :: this is my first fanfic on here so it might be terrible but enjoy anyway. ⚠️

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 :: reader x crimeboss!jk

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: bitch you better have his money.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 :: ABSOLUTE SMUTTY FILTH heh angst too ig

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 :: 11.9k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 :: long haired tatted jk, that’s it, that’s the warning, uh kinda sketchy plot hsjsjsj, WOW ANGST ASF at the beginning tho, dub!con towards the middle don’t hurt me, fuck or die ig, gunplay????? yeah????? jks BLATANT OVERUSE of pet names, dacryphillia, major-ish character death, describing the injuries on a dead body, jk has a sir kink ig??? um excessive over exaggerated choking bc jks hands yum, explicit seggs, rough jk, he’s kinda mean, dom!jk, sub!reader, oral m&f receiving (facefucking on both ends), coochie sniff if you squint, coochie slaps if u squint too, spanking, OVERSTIMULATION, unprotected seggs, degradation, he calls her a bitch once idk, other bad names, praise too ig, jk gives an ultimatum, SLIGHT aftercare, he kinda like switches from flirty to murderous like a bunch of times it’s kinda weird, jk has an impossibly huge shlong obv, contemplating death, super mature themes, reader is a BIG fucking crybaby, overuse of the word fuck, corruption kink at the end if u squint super hard, also DUB!CON in case you didn’t see it, at this point I should just write what it doesn’t have

“If you’re not out of my house in 3.4 seconds, I'm dragging you out by the testicles” you uttered, your alarmingly calm voice laced with raw brutality as hot tears cascaded down your burning cheeks, your arm outstretched and pointed toward the blinding light of the hallway that contrasted with your dark bedroom. You said nothing more, with your eyes trained angrily at one of the four blank tan walls nearby, not possibly being able to bear speaking to or sparing a glance into the eyes of a cheating whore. The woman you had just caught him with scurried past you wearily, a terrified and confused glint in her eyes as she passed your frigid frame sans underwear, with her sparkly silver pumps dangling from her fingers and a wrinkly silver dress hanging limply from the clutches of her other hand. The man in question shuffled cautiously around the bed, clutching the exposed parts of his body and approaching you with extreme hesitation and outstretched hands, as if trying to calm the already blazing flames of your fury. He laid a cold, rough hand on your shoulder squeezing softly, a motion that once brought you comfort but only added the all consuming hatred that bubbled up inside you akin to ravenous bile filling up the pit of your belly. “Did you not hear what I said? Get out.” You spat, glossy eyes still pointed toward anything but him.

“____ please” he croaked, like the slimy frog he truly was, his voice dripping in false agony which only neared you closer to the brink of undoubtedly committing an act of extreme violence against that man. “Please baby it wasn’t-'' you blanked. He was about to make an excuse. A stupid, rediculous, horrible, completely false excuse which you had absolutely no patience to hear. So you snapped, harshly shrugging your shoulder and sending his arm flying back to his side. He stepped back, ceasing his incessant chatter as he stared at you, a surprised expression painting his “pained” features. He wasn’t accustomed to you acting like this, you were never one to raise your voice or act out in any sort of way so he stood there, eyes widened in dumbfounded silence and you took this chance, bending down, scooping up as much of his discarded clothing as you possibly could and throwing it in his face, your rage bubbling over into something much more carnal as you inhaled deeply through your nose.

“Shut the fuck up and leave!” He scrambled to catch as many clothes as he could and was taken aback by your abrupt outburst. He stood silent once again though this time, he was making the face he often made when forcing himself to cry. It was the face he made around his mother to get out of family responsibilities. The face he made around his friends when guilt tripping them into buying him drinks, and now he's using it for you. To guilt you into taking pity on his pathetic actions which merely was the catalyst for your unforgiving violence. In an instant you were behind him, heaving him out of the door with your bare hands, pushing with all your might, using the immense pain coursing through your limbs as motivation to drive his beefy frame further and further out of the bedroom, down the hallway, into the living room and closer to the door yelling “I said leave! Leave! Now!” Pushing harder and harder with every word you choked out. The tears began to flow faster, clouding and distorting your vision as your face contorted into an expression of pure anguish until finally, he was forced out of the open doorway and into the main hallway of your apartment building. You promptly slammed the door in his face and the only thought traveling though your mind was ‘thank god she left that door open’ because you wouldn’t have been able to force him through it otherwise.

You stood silently for a few seconds, back to the door, face still slick with tears as the cool wood on your back shook senselessly with every beat of his fist and muffled shout of his voice crying phrases like “____ open the fuking door!” , “this is my apartment too baby come on” and other variations of the sort. Your mind was empty while you remained there, letting the harsh reality sink in like the slowest molasses. You allowed that man, that pig, to take 10 years of your life. 10 years of your prime. 10 years that you'll never get back no matter how much you beg and plead for it. Come to think of it, you had shaped your entire life around him. His influence was there no matter how much you wished it wasn’t. His residue staining your life like the blackest ink of which you would never be able to rid yourself. At the surfacing of these thoughts, you’d finally broke down and cried, like ugly cried. Broken heaves and sobs escaped your throat until you felt like you were suffocating as you slid down the door, not caring if he heard your wails and whines of torment on the other side of the polished mahogany. You actually hoped he did hear, you wanted him to hear the anguish and grief he put you through. You wanted him to hear you cry out all of your attachment and love for him until there was none left, so he knows the tears flowing from your body hold all of the affection you harbor for him. All ten years of attraction flowing out in a gigantic tsunami of grief that can only end in a new start.

Your mind played through all the memories, and the small amount of good times you had with each other while you sobbed mercilessly, also coming to the realization that he never did anything for you. Ever since you were 14 you’d been changing everything about yourself for him, while he merely lived his life, dragging you along like a supportive little puppy and rewarding you with cheap token gifts and mediocre sex once in a blue moon.

He wanted to attend university in your hometown so you abandoned your dream school, which accepted you, to attend a closer college. He made the decision to study abroad, so you had to drop everything and move to Australia for him. He wanted to wait to have kids so you froze your fucking eggs for him. He got a great new job at a large company in Asia, so you dropped everything again and moved to South Korea. You learned Korean for him. You have the same friends as him. You even cut a few family members off because he was “uncomfy” around them. He wouldn’t even go down on you because it also made him ‘uncomfy’, which should’ve been a red flag from the start. You did all of this bullshit in the haze of love. The promise that he’d reciprocate all of it in affection and adoration, which he didn’t, and now you’re sitting in your living room bawling your brains out because you were too lovestruck to see the signs.

After sobbing hysterically for what seemed like hours, you’d sat limply in front of your door, slouching back onto it as if it were a plush armchair and staring blankly into space, your mind completely empty. Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted beyond belief, you leaned forward, groaning in anguish as your tired muscles cried out in distress after being immobile for more than four hours. Crawling over to the couch, you tiredly flung your nearly paralyzed body onto the soft cushions with a sigh, not even bothering to pull the fluffy throw blanket over your body as your entire frame began to steadily shut down. Before your eyes completely shut, you caught a glimpse of the clock perched on the wooden tv stand which read 11:11 and scoffing quietly as you thought to yourself, ‘I thought that was supposed to mean good luck’ and you gave in to the delicious expanse of slumber.

You were startled awake by the incessant pounding of your now ex-boyfriends fist on the door, again. For the past 4 days since you’d forced him out, he’d show up outside your door at the ass crack of dawn just banging on the door profusely, as if that would persuade you to open it an inch. He had a schedule, he’d come at 5am, before he went off to work, then at 12:30 on his lunch break, then again at 9:45 just to make you miserable before you went to bed. You’re actually surprised the neighbors haven’t complained to the landlords yet. You tossed the blanket off of your sticky body, kicking and thrashing wildly due to the annoyance caused by that nuisance.

You cried more times than you can count during these last 4 days, especially during the times he would attempt to win you over with sappy shit like “baby, you’re my everything, you’re all i’ve ever wanted”, the lyrics to one of your favorite songs or, “you’re my forever ____, you can’t just throw 10 years away babe” to which you cried about for 3 hours after he’d said it, after realizing that he actually wasted 10 fucking years of your life. Anger bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you listened to the repetitive banging of his fist and at this point you had enough and came to the decision it was finally time to pack his shit. Stomping into the living room, you grabbed a necessary box of bags that sat on the coffee table in the center of the room, figuring you were ready to use it. With a final nod of your head, you marched into your shared bedroom and opened all of the cabinets and drawers that contained the plethora of his belongings and flinging them on the floor, grabbing the box of xl trash bags you’d snagged on your march in here and started tossing things in left and right, not caring about the brand name or the state of the fabric or anything for that matter. All you saw was red as your eyes welled up with tears for the first and probably not last time that day.

“I can’t do this” you sobbed out, voice hoarse as you fell to your knees, ignoring the rugburn that was soon to form on those areas as your shoulders shook with every harsh breath you took. You had been dreading this task. Dreading it only for its significance that once you packed all his things and tossed them out, your relationship would be truly over. You definitely didn’t want him back but this would be the first time you’ve been alone in 10+ years and you were not certain you were prepared for that let alone wanting it. Inhaling shakily, you sniffed, ridding your face of any moisture as you cleared your throat and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of chardonnay from your anniversary that fell on the week prior and venturing back into the closet to resume your task. You weren’t much of a drinker but for this task, you’d need a bottle or two.

A few hours later, he’d finally went off to work and you sat in the doorway of the closet, drunkenly dressed in the wedding gown you were made to be wed in this summer still combing through all of his clothing and tossing them messily into a bag that laid open on the floor beside you. You took a swig from the bottle, hissing softly at the satisfying burn that seared it’s way down your throat and rubbing at your puffy eyes with the knuckle of your index finger. The closet was mostly bare, except for a rack with some of his clothes and one rack of semi-expensive clothing his cheap ass reluctantly purchased for you and you glanced around, catching a glimpse of some ugly floral fabric in the corner of the small space. Getting on your hands and knees you reached a limp hand out, taking hold of the horrendous fabric and dragging it out with a groan, eyes wide at the surprising heft of the object in your hand.

It was a pillowcase. A pillowcase full of something brick shaped. You raised an eyebrow quizzically before reaching into the bag and pulling out a fat stack of cash. Taking a sharp intake of breath you paused, staring blankly at the wrapped wad in your hand and cocking your head to the side. You peeked over into the bag after a few minutes, eyes popping out of your skull as they feasted on more huge stacks of money. It was Korean currency but there had to be at least 250k USD worth in the entire sack. You furrowed your brows, tossing the money back into the pillowcase forcefully as a tornado of thoughts whirled in your mind. Had he been saving behind your back? Was he planning on getting rich then eventually hanging you out to dry for some younger girl? How long has he had all of this? Where the fuck did it all come from?

You looked back at the money then back at the corner you found it in, squinting as you spotted some more ugly purple fabric. Crawling behind the clothing earnestly, you managed to fish out 4 more pillowcases full of money. You stifled a laugh, having never been in the presence of so much currency, you guessed it had to be more than 1 million dollars. You smiled for the first time in 4 days, lips curling up into a wide joy filled expression as you dumped all of the money onto the rugged floor of the closet. With all of the alcohol coursing through your veins, (almost a whole bottle) you didn’t hesitate to grab the biggest tote bag you own and stuff as much money as it could hold inside. You figured it was the least he could do after cheating on you.

He deserved to pay, and you obviously deserved a raise.

It was a full on shopping spree. After throwing all of his shit into bags, you tossed them outside your door and left with as much money as you could carry before he could come back on his lunch break. You even came back to get some more money, just to go out and spend it again. To say you splurged would be an understatement, you spent almost half of the money on clothes, shoes, a hair and makeup appointment, a manicure, a new car, and you even paid rent for six months after taking his name off the lease.

So here you were, struggling up the stairs as quick as you could, due to the fact that it was 9:30 and you were trying to avoid seeing him at his 9:45 visit. Your feet screamed in agony in your new jimmy choo pumps, because you’d been on them all day, and you had at least six shopping bags hanging from each arm, all full with an assortment of gaudy items such as shoe boxes, makeup products, and clothing. You had finally reached the door after a while, smiling at the absence of his bags which meant he took them and swiftly unlocked the door, clamoring in and tiredly dropping the bags in your hands. With a sigh, you locked the door, running a hand through your freshly styled hair as you rid your face of the designer sunglasses that shielded it. Kicking off your shoes, you hummed gratifyingly at the pleasurable feeling of bare feet and shuffled over to your couch, plopping down on the end cushion groggily.

A soft buzz in your back pocket caught your attention as you carefully fished out the new phone you purchased and unlocked it with your perfectly manicured fingers, raising an eyebrow quizzically as the texts rolled in, ‘i thought i blocked him’ you thought, preparing to do it a second time before a few texts caught your attention and you froze on the spot, chuckling heartlessly at his words.

+82 2 2263 5950 : whose car is in our parking spot?

+82 2 2263 5950 : did you already move on?

+82 2 2263 5950 : wow whore

You rolled your eyes, wondering where he attained the gaul to accuse you of a feat such as that. Calling you a whore as if that name isn’t suitable for himself. Even more so than you. You decided to text him back, feeding off of an unknown source of confidence as your fingers furiously tapped along the screen.

me : it’s my car asshole

me : bought it with the money u left me

me :thx baby <3

+82 2 2263 5950 : what money?

me : the money in the closet you didn’t bother telling me abt u dumb fuck

+82 2 2263 5950 : don’t use that money

me : why should i listen to you?

me : you aren’t my bf

+82 2 2263 5950 : no seriously ____ don’t use that money wtf is wrong with u

me : already did bye babe

You blocked him as quickly as you could, face burning with absolute anger as you tossed your phone on the cushion beside you. Who is he to tell you what you could or couldn’t do? You had come to the decision then and there that you wouldn't let him treat you like a child. He wasn’t your dad. Thanks to him you barely speak to your dad. The only thought going through your mind at the time was ‘fuck him.’ Before you could delve into your thoughts any further, it started. His incessant pounding on the door. Again. Although, this time it was much more frantic, desperate. He was much louder with his pathetic pleas and whines, crying out “please don’t use that money!”, “Listen to me god damn it!”, “___ open the fucking door now!” But you stood your ground, ignoring him once again as you did for the past few days.

Just to escape the racket of his wails of desperation, you retreated to your room, slipping on one of his expensive balenciaga sweatshirts you kept for yourself and climbing into the cool blankets, burying yourself under the plush fabric and folding your pillow over your ears. You knew this would be the longest night of your life..

And you were correct, It was the longest night of your life. He never truly got the memo that you would not be coming out to communicate with him so he finally left at around 1:30 in the morning. You had slept horribly, tossing and turning as the aftermath of his cries and pleads left a print on your mind and tormented you at all hours of the night, you didn’t manage to get any real sleep until around eight and woke up a mere five hours later in a state of confusion. It was well past noon and yet it was silent, you had woken up of your own volition, not because of some crazy man outside of your apartment screaming like a banshee. In due time, you had come to the conclusion that he had finally given up and gone about his day without banging on his ex-girlfriend's apartment door like an idiot at all hours of the day.

This theory was almost set in your mind until you heard a knock. Groaning violently, you stared up at your ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as you erased that theory from the whiteboard in your cortex. Fully prepared to ignore the person at the door, you rolled over to your side until another knock was heard. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. The knocks were way too soft, they lacked an element of urgency, desperation. They were simply just way too calm. So, you sat up, swinging your legs over and reluctantly standing up, before making your way into the living room to be greeted with another knock and a smooth male voice calling out. “Miss ___ ___?”

You glanced wearily though your peep hole to be met with a tall male, dressed in a blue and white uniform. “Looks like a cop. He called the fucking cops on me, shit.” you whispered to yourself, voice small as you held onto the door handle. Figuring it’d be worse to make him wait, you opened the door, being met with the warm, dimpled smile, of the decorated individual. “Yes, i”m ____” you respond, shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweatshirt and looking everywhere but him, which probably seems more suspicious than anything but you were too riddled with anxiety to care. The officer clutched a navy blue manilla folder in his hand and opened it promptly in order to sift through its contents.

“Hi, i’m officer Kim.” he breathed out, calmly bowing and resuming his apparent spiel, “do you know this man?” he pondered, raising an eyebrow quizzically as he pulled a photo from his folder with calloused fingers and lifted it, spinning it around to face you. Your eyes widened slightly upon being shown a picture of your ex and you nodded hesitantly.

“He’s my ex boyfriend- well ex fiance I guess.” you responded, voice barely audible as your mind raced faster than the speed of sound. You asked yourself what he could’ve done that was bad enough for the police to show up at your door. Maybe you had been too harsh on him and he had gotten into one to many bar fights, maybe he robbed a bank at gunpoint, maybe he stole some old lady’s car and filled it with off brand mayonnaise before he returned it. All your questions- all your thoughts stopped as Officer Kim responded, running a tired hand through his hair.

“He passed, earlier today.” he paused, giving you time to digest things and you froze, staring at his face blankly as your mind processed what you had just been told and you hummed questioningly, your throat becoming tight with realization. “It happened around five this morning,” he paused again as you stood in complete silence. Sure you hated him but you’d never wish death upon another person, especially him. You hate him now but you were in love with him once too. You hate him now but, he was the closest person in your life. He was all of your firsts, your fiance, your best friend. You thought you wouldn’t be able to get all of that back because of the breakup but now you truly can never get any of it back, because he’s dead. Then, you started to cry, for the hundredth time this week but this one was different. You weren’t crying because you missed him, or wanted him to come back like all the other times, as horrible as it sounds. You were crying because you felt bad. Because of his short life that was ripped from him by the unforgiving hand of death. You weren’t crying because of him, you were crying for him. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your sobs and you wiped your face, glancing up at the culprit with glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss...” he paused, giving you a few moments to breathe as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before speaking again, “but we have an idea of who did it, it would be helpful if you just came down to the station with me for some questioning.” he asked softly as the shaking sobs and whimpers that came from your body slowed to a halt and you nodded.

“Yeah, uh. Let me just go get dressed.” You muttered, smiling up at him softly and shuffling back to your room to prepare. The longest night of your life was about to turn into the longest day.

And you were correct again as you stood in front of your apartment door after the absolute, and I cannot stress this enough, longest day of your life. Your ex was murdered, brutally, and they made sure to go over all of the gory details with you while you were at the precinct, they even took you to see his body, which made you cry because it was mangled almost beyond recognition and you were horrified. Apparently, he had been tortured for hours, which explained all the bruises, gashes, and burn marks on his body, strangled, thus the huge ring shaped mark around his neck, and dumped into a river, which made his body all pruny and wrinkled. You had spent 10 long hours at the police precinct and it was now nearing midnight as you fished your keys from your pocket in order to unlock the door. Inserting your key, you jiggle it around in the lock for a minute before realizing it was already unlocked initially. Figuring you had left it unlocked accidentally in your depressed haze, you pushed your way into your apartment and locked it promptly, pressing your forehead into the cool wood of the door. You sighed softly, relaxing only for a minute as you absorbed your surroundings before freezing as you heard the rhythmic tapping of someone's foot.

“Long day huh?” the voice was deep, one you hadn’t heard before as you remained facing the door, your grip of the handle tightening until your knuckles turned white. He spoke again, “you must be ____.” he murmured softly, sending a terrified shudder down your spine. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but he said you were off limits. You know, he talks about you a lot-...” he stopped himself as if realizing something, “well talked, I mean.” the man mused, an ominous chuckle flowing from his mouth.

“Who are you?” you rasped, attempting to conceal any cowardice but blinking your eyes harshly as your voice broke. You vaguely hoped this was one of your ex’s friends coming to visit, at an odd hour of the night, sitting ominously in the dark of your apartment waiting for you to come home just to say hi but the chances of that actuality was very slim.

“None of your business” the man retorted, a smirk evident in his ominous tone. “Now, let’s get down to business little dove,” you furrowed your brows at the nickname. You had never been called a nickname, especially by a man who randomly just snuck into your apartment one night. Your ex only ever called you baby or babe so little dove was different for you. It seemed endearing in the worst type of way. “I want the rest of my money.” he paused, “I found half of it in a closet here, and he said you might know where the rest is.” he paused again, only this time a sound is heard, a metal rattling of some sort that ricochets off of the walls of the apartment like a stray jumping bean in a pill case. Then it hits you, he has a gun, and he just shook it as if he intends to use it. . “Don’t make me ask again sweetheart.” Your eyes widen and well up as your head falls down, knowing you're going to die today and you take a deep breath, telling yourself you’d be ready for whatever happens so you decide, if you’re gonna die, you should at least know the name of the man that’s gonna kill you so you scrape together every last drop of confidence you can muster and ask once more.

“I said, w-who are yo-” you choked out, in an attempt to hold onto the last shred of your dignity as you blinked back the tears threatening to fall from your glassy eyes. However, your small shred of confidence is promptly ripped from your grasp as the man cuts you off mid sentence, slamming his gun down onto a hard surface with a loud clatter. You jolt, crying out softly as the tears you’d been holding back with all your might fall onto the ground before you.

“I said none of your fucking business bitch where’s my fucking money.” he spat, his sinister tone draing a choked sob from your thoat as you realized, you wouldn’t be getting anything you wanted today. “Answer me” he said, alarmingly calm as the sound of him cocking his gun travels directly to your mind.

“I spent it” you muttered between your soft hiccups and stiffened slightly upon hearing a heavy footstep approach you, then another footstep, and another, and another until they cease, and you can feel the man's warm breath raising the hair on the back of your neck. All your readiness for whatever happens and willingness to die flies out of the window as you lean your head on the door once more, taking a shaky breath as you begin to plead, aware of how pathetic you sound and part of the reason why you have such a strong urge to cry harder. “Please don’t kill me” you whined desperately as you feel the cold metal of the gun barrel resting on your shoulder.

“Relax little dove” he whispered, his lips brushing the back of your ear and sending a chill rushing through the entire expanse of your body. “Just find a way to pay me back and we’re even,” he continued calmly, his raspy voice reverberating in your eardrums as you think through what he just said carefully. You gasp and sniffle, shaking your head softly and lifting it slowly from the wooden door frame.

“I-” you stopped, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself as much as you could for his response then opened your mouth to continue. “I don’t have that kind of money” you whispered hesitantly, shutting your eyes tightly, allowing nothing to escape but the numerous tears that fell to the ground in anticipation of his actions. There was an eerie silence as he contemplated your words before he abruptly turned away, lifting the gun from your shoulder and holstering it in the waistband of his jeans, causing you to let out a wavering breath you’d been holding that entire time. His hand traveled back up, taking refuge on your left shoulder as the other hand made its way up your right arm, the warmth setting your skin aflame and sending a shockwave of warmth coursing through your body.

“There is another way you could pay me back.” his velvet voice rasped, stressing the word ‘another’ in a way that you immediately understood his insinuation and you took a sharp intake of air, bracing yourself for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his hands do the talking for him as he gripped your arms softly, using his hands to spin you around and face him. You whirled around, yelping in surprise but stopping when you were met with the most exquisite, carnivorous brown eyes you had ever seen in your life that were accompanied by full pink lips and a tousled bunch of fluffy black hair you just wanted to run your hands through. Even in the darkness of night, the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the room enough for you to trail your eyes down his face and get a vivid idea of what he’d look like with illumination.

Yummy as fuck.

Your eyes began to wander down to his exposed collarbone and before they could travel any lower, his fingers roughly grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upward until you met his borderline cannibalistic gaze, which crushed you into nothing. He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the corner of his lips turn upward slightly. “He was always bragging about you… saying,” he speaks, his sultry tone lulling you into a state of compliance as he spoke, “you’re such a good fuck,” he continues, placing his left hand gently on your waist and stepping even closer, if that’s possible, his soft breath hitting your face with every word as he speaks. “Your sweet little cunt is so tight” he glances down at your lips, running his thumb over your bottom lip “your mouth feels like heaven” he pauses again, running his hand down to hold the side of your neck softly to which you gasp “maybe i’d like a demonstration little dove.” he smiles, a twisted horrifying smile that snaps you out of his seductive trance and back to reality as your eyes widen and you pull yourself quickly out of his hold, running over to the couch and bracing yourself on it.

“No” you cry out, out of breath for some reason as you swallow thickly and shake your head. “No, I'll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” you plead, praying he wasn’t going to kill you on the spot and that he hadn’t noticed your blatant ogling. He probably did but at this point you didn’t care, you just wanted him gone.

“Whatever you say sweetheart” he replied, emitting a dark chuckle “call me if you change your mind, my number’s in your phone” he opened the front door and you glanced back at him, noticing the way his all black attire contrasts with his tan skin, and most of all, you notice the full sleeve of tattoos that ran down his right arm. Heat crawled up to your face as you realized you were gawking again and you nodded in response, feeling unable to form the words to respond with. He only uttered the words “you have a week.” before the door slammed and you were left alone in the dark.

You ran your fingers along the side of your neck where the aftermath of his touch lingered like a searing residue. No one had ever touched you like that, especially your ex. He was the man that took your virginity and was the man there for every time after so you’d become accustomed to his textbook missionary vanilla sex that left you touch starved and unfinished every. single. time. But you’d finish yourself off each time, feeling bad because you thought he was trying his hardest and truly didn’t understand how to please women. But as time went on, you realized he didn’t care about your pleasure and too enveloped in his own release to ever worry about your needs, but were too deep in love with him to care.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone went off to signal a text and upon picking it up there were two text messages from an unknown number that sent a shiver down your spine which read.

+82 2 5284 8735 : don’t try to run

+82 2 5284 8735 : we’ll hunt you down little dove

“Can’t you just take the shit back?” You questioned frantically, clutching the phone by your head until your knuckles turned white, rolling your eyes tiredly when you got no response. “They hung up, great” you deadpanned, plopping onto the couch you had been pacing in front of. It has been 6 days since the man showed up and you were running out of time and hadn’t slept in two days, your mind running frantically with the thought of him coming back to see you nearly empty handed. Well, not exactly empty handed. You had managed to get 253k of the whopping +400k dollars you had spent of his money and after not being able to return the car, manicure, hair appointment, rent, and a bunch of clothes and shoes, you were manic. Some might even say a bit crazy. Many of the stores and the dealership knew you by name because of the amount of times you called them. You dropped your phone into your lap, burying your face in your hands and wishing someone was here to console you through this but the only person you knew even remotely enough to offer any consolation was your ex. You wish he was alive so you could punch that bitch in the face and ask him what kind of shit he got himself into because the man that paid you a visit was most definitely not from corporate.

You sat for a silent minute deliberating if you should text the mystery man and take him up on his offer. You had asked yourself, is it really worth your life? Were you really going to die because you didn’t want to sleep with the hot guy you stole money from? The answer at first was yes because you still had your pride intact then but now, you had been starting to second guess your confidence in getting all the money back. After all, the deadline is tomorrow. You still had your hesitations, the only man who has ever seen you in such a lewd nature was your ex. You didn’t know if you were ready for sex with another person, even if he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. But, against your better nature, you convinced yourself that your ex was gone and this was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner?

You grabbed your phone in earnest before anything inside you could convince you to stop and unlocked it, opening the messages for his number and typing out your text, hitting send before any sort of regret had the chance to sink in.

me : i’ll take your offer

me : this is ____ btw

You placed your phone down on the couch cushions beside you and chewed nervously on the not so fresh manicure that was still on your nails. To your surprise, his reply came in quickly and you frantically reached for your phone as the dings came rolling in.

+82 2 5284 8735 : i know who you are

+82 2 5284 8735 : i'll be there in 20

+82 2 5284 8735 : be ready sweetheart

Your heart thumped restlessly as you shot up from your seat shouting “twenty minutes?!” and you cried out nervously. You hadn’t even seen his face in good lighting and you didn't know his name so you’d basically be fucking a complete stranger which scared you enough as it is but the fact that that stranger held you at gunpoint merely a week prior is what scared you shitless.

In the limited time that he gave you, you decided to freshen up a bit so you hopped in the shower. Your first shower in a few days after your psychotic state worsened. Humming in bliss, you relished in the feeling of the scalding water flowing over your skin as you took your time washing , shaving, and singing, in an attempt to rid yourself of the horrendous nerves that overtook your senses. After reluctantly stepping out of the steamy oasis, you’d decided on a white lingerie set you had gotten yourself for christmas but never got to wear for anyone because your significant other was always “working” or too tired/busy to take the time of day for you. Pairing the set with a matching white silk robe and not bothering to wear any shoes because you’re in your own house, you slicked your lips in a thick coat of gloss and applied some mascara and eyeliner to your tired eyes just to spruce up a bit. You figured, if you put effort into your appearance, then maybe he’d spare your life after the sex. You stared at yourself in the mirror, tying your robe, smacking your glossed lips together and ogling your appearance before a soft knocking was heard from the living room. “He’s here” you told yourself with a deep shaky breath as you vacated the bathroom and slowly ventured toward the door.

You stood silently before the front door, contemplating whether this was a mistake or if it was too late to turn back. As much as you hated to admit, there was no logical solution to your problem that was in compliance with any standing laws. Heck, what you were doing was probably illegal in everywhere but Las Vegas so you had no other choice than to twist the handle, open the door and stare up at the most alluring man you had ever laid eyes on. You ran your eyes all over his body, studying him, his features, his gorgeous eyes, impeccable nose, plush lips, smooth hair, and strong arms that lead to a presumed strong chest hidden under his plain white tee. He noticed you blatantly checking him out to which he placed a finger on your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes met and making you watch as he rolled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment. Oh how you wished that was your lip.

“You ready little dove?” he asked, his tone seductive and smooth like chocolate as he walked closer to you, closing the door behind him and backing you up until you stood patiently before the couch staring up at him, a wistful glint in your eyes as you nodded. He reached up, using a finger to push your robe off of your right shoulder and cocking his head quizzically. “All dressed up just for me?” he pondered, his eyes trained on the white lace peeking out from under the robe. You nodded, to which he gripped your chin roughly, furrowing his eyebrows at your response. “Use your words sweetheart” he warned, loosening his grip so you could speak in affirmation.

“Yes…” your voice trailed off, thinking of what to call him, as you still didn’t know his name, so you addressed him as you would any man you didn’t know, “yes, sir. I dressed up just for you” you concluded, your voice barely greater than a whisper as the corners of his lips turned up. He let out an animalistic growl at the name you gave for him, obviously satisfied and moved his hand from your chin to grip the back of your neck promptly.

“It’s Jungkook, but sir will do nicely” he basically growled before latching onto your lips with carnal aggressiveness. You whined heartily into his mouth as his tongue slipped deftly into yours and intertwined with yours, causing your mind to fall into a haze as he coiled his arm around your waist, bringing your body flush against his toned frame. You reached up with shaky hands, fumbling with his shirt, eager to get it off of him and gaze upon the expanse of his abdomen. His lips detached for a moment, giving you the chance to pull his shirt over his head, which he gladly obliged and lifted his hands over his head, swiftly resuming their positions when his shirt formed a pile on the floor beside you. You leaned back in, attempting to capture his lips in another phenomenal kiss but he pulled back, leaving you to chase him and whine when you ultimately lose, to which he laughs mischievously, taking his hands off of your body and toying with the silk tie on the front of your robe.

“How do you want it baby?” he pondered, the new nickname sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him quizzically, as if asking what he meant. He chuckled softly, tugging at the ribbon and opening your robe as he brought his hands up, carefully sliding it down your arms and bending down so his face was level with your collarbone. He placed a gentle kiss there, leaving fire in the wake of his lips as he spoke, his breath cooling the seared flesh, “would you like me to be gentle?” he asked leaving more hot kisses along the expanse of your shoulder and neck, drawing salacious sounds from your parted lips as he brought his hand up to rest at the base of your neck. “Or…” he paused, sliding his hand up and increasing the intensity of his grip on your throat, restricting the blood flow to your brain as your mind became hazy and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Do you want me to be rough?” he continued, lifting his head to watch your face as he loosened his grip. “It’s your choice little dove.”

You were elated, ecstatic and a little disappointed when he loosened his grip on your neck. Your ex was always into sex that lindered toward the vanilla side, as mentioned before, so he would never think to try anything like choking, which always intrigued you just a little bit. You wished you would have experienced other styles of love before you met him but you didn't, and this was your chance to try them out now. Your fingers travelled up, lightly grazing over that hand that was tightly wrapped around your neck. Whining quietly you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it softly as your other hand came up and wrapped around Jungkook’s forearm.

“I wanna try it rough” you mumbled, eyes closing as you relished in the hazy feeling this restriction gave you which only heightened as he tightened his grip.

“Perfect.” he groaned out almost inaudibly as he pulled your face to his, colliding your lips in the roughest, most passion filled kiss you’d ever experienced. He devoured your mouth with gluttonous amusement, his grip on your airway never wavering for a moment as he tongued you down, his carnal need prevalent and present in the thick air of the room. You reached up, completing a task you’d been wanting to do for days, tangling your hand in the messy black mass that fell upon his head, and relishing in the soft feeling of his waves. Then he detached from your lips and moved away, forcing your hands to fall from his hair and onto his broad shoulders, which, while pleasurable to touch, didn’t even come close to frolicking your fingers through his locks. He moved his hand from your neck to your shoulder, to which you whined with a small pout, missing the new contact as he chuckled at your eagerness. He stared at your lips, before leaning down and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it voraciously before he spoke. “Do you want me to put this slutty little mouth of yours to use little dove?” he asked, pulling back as if waiting for an answer, to which you obliged.

“Yes sir” You answered quite honestly in fact, as you felt all your hesitation and weariness about this task slip away. “Please put my mouth to use.” you pleaded, staring up at him, a wanton expression on your soft features.

“You’re so good for me .” he whispered, his soft breath fanning your face as you nodded in agreement, “such an obedient little dove, hmm?” he asked, to which you nodded once again, a bit more frantically this time as you awaited his cue. He used the hand on your shoulder to abruptly push you down with a small yelp so you were seated on the black leather couch behind you, the colder leather contrasting the burning lust in your entire body as you looked up at him. “Get to work slut.” Your eyes widened at the name. Maybe it was supposed to be an insult or he just liked calling you that but you couldn’t help the gargantuan wave of slick that coated your panties at the moment.

You looked down, a bit above eye level with his crotch as you reached up to palm him through his faded blue jeans. His scent was tantalizing, musky, and you couldn't get enough as you stared up at him through your eyelashes, your lips slightly parted as you gazed in awe. He gave you a warning glance, as if scolding you for teasing him for this long and you unzipped his pants. He held out his hand, as if to stop you before reaching behind his pants and pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Your eyes widened, gaze now trained on the firearm in his hand, a horrified expression on your face as you ceased all actions. Which he noticed, peering down at you, a horrifying smile etched on his godlike features as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Relax darling, I won’t kill you,” he purred, reaching down and weaving the fingers of his free hand into the roots of your hair, grabbing and pulling back roughly so you have no other choice but to meet his dark eyes. “We’re only just getting started.” he lowered the gun, pressing the muzzle into the underside of your jaw, the cold metal like ice against your scalding skin. However, you felt no need to cry, felt no need to fear for your life even as this gun was pressed to your neck, aimed to kill, because you knew he wouldn’t do it. Through the dark facade and ominous gaze in his eyes there was something else that made you trust his inability to kill you. You realized you were enjoying the thrill, the excitement of putting your life in his hands. So, you did what any crazy bitch would do in this situation, you breathed out deeply, relaxing your shoulders and slouching yourself down to push your neck further onto the tip of the gun with a mischievous smile. Jungkook stared down at you in awe, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek and taking his gun off of your neck before tossing it over to the end of the couch behind you.

Resuming your actions with a shaky breath, you tugged his pants down until they fell to his ankles and placed your hands on the sides of his underwear clad hips. You might’ve been inexperienced in his style of fucking but you sure knew how to give a good blowjob, so you got to work, placing open mouthed kisses to his clothed appendage. You looked up at him once more seeing the lust clouded haze that filled his deep brown eyes. After a bit of teasing, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in a seductively slow manner as you allowed his needy cock to spring free, and you stared up at it with a gasp.

It was huge.

You didn’t really know what qualifies as huge because the only dick you’ve ever had was around 6 inches on a good day but this alluring appendage swinging before your face had to be at least 9 inches long and you wondered how the fuck you were going to fit it all in your mouth let alone your pussy, which was already aching for it. Your mouth involuntarily opened wider in anticipation of his delicious dick inside and you grabbed the base, with two hands, drawing a hiss from the man that stood over you as he kicked off his shoes and the rest of the clothing that pooled around his feet. You licked teasingly up the sides of his dick, stopping at the tip to swirl your tongue around it, and catching some salty precum when you did. You glanced up at him and he looked absolutely furious in the best sort of way. Frustrated to the max as you teased him mercilessly, only spending meere fleeting moments at the spots which needed the most attention.

Then he snapped, taking you by surprise and using his hand that was still tangled in your hair to hold you still while he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried to gasp but it merely came out as a small strangled whimper that was cut off as his length reached that back of your throat. You moved your hands to the sides of his hips once again, bracing yourself as he slowly pulled his member out of your mouth, most likely winding up for another thrust. He propelled his hips forward once again, stuffing not nearly all of his cock into your mouth, as his tip grazed the back of your throat. The feeling of him completely filling your mouth had you livid, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moaned, the vibrations reverberating onto his appendage which drew a salacious moan from his plush parted pink lips.

“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” he moaned out, then he started to fuck your face, tears pooling in your eyes while his dick basically hit the back of your throat with every harsh stroke of his hips as he gripped on your hair tighter. After one particularly hard thrust, he held his length down your throat as tears rolled down your cheeks and you gagged around him. He took his cock out of your mouth, to which you gasped, swallowing the spit that pooled in your mouth with an aroused groan.

“Tastes so good.” you mumbled, not possibly being able to get enough as he shoved his cock back into your mouth and fucked your throat relentlessly. The tension building in you was too much to bear and your need to cum only heightened as his actions resumed. You arched your back slightly, pushing your clothed clit into the black leather cushions of the couch as you gyrated into it slowly, praying he wouldn’t notice and would be too invested in fucking your throat to realize.

You were wrong. He noticed immediately.

He halted all movements, taking his cock from your throat and grabbing your neck harshly, to which you gasped, whimpering as he pulled you up to stand in front of him, cock slapping the front of your body as you stared at his face in anticipation of his actions. You could imagine what you looked like right now swollen glossy lips, and tear stains running down your face because you didn’t bother to wear your waterproof mascara. You never needed it any other time so you figured why would you need it now. Oh how wrong you were.

“Dirty little dove, trying to get off on the couch because you want me that bad?” he rasped, nearing closer to your face with each word and you nodded frantically, basically begging him to do something, anything. “Words” he barked, drawing a cry from your lips as you thought of what to say.

“I want your cock, please sir.” you begged, before he groaned hungrily and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss, taking you by surprise. No one had ever kissed you after they’d fucked your throat before so why would he do it. You didn’t dwell on that thought for too long before melting into his touch and wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook took his free hand, trailing it around your body to unclasp the back of your bra, your eyes going wide at the skillful ease of his fingers. He snatched the white lace clothing off of your frame, tossing it to the other side of the room and reaching back up to cup one of your soft breasts in his hand, flicking the nipple with his index finger and making you sigh satisfactorily into his mouth. He leaned forward, taking you with him as he lowered both of you back onto the couch, settling himself between your newly opened legs and never breaking the kiss. He unlatched his hand from your neck, trailing it down your body as the other hand continued to knead your breast skillfully. His burning touch slowly ventured further and further down your abdomen until he reached the band of your panties and abruptly tore the thin while lace from your body to your dismay and discarding it on the floor beside him. You whined sadly, as those had been your favorite pair of underwear but barely had any sort of time to grieve as you felt two rough fingers dip into the wetness of your slit, trailing them up and stopping right over the spot you needed him to be at, pulling a moan from your still swollen lips.

He began kissing a trail down your body, stopping for a mere moment to suck on the pert bud of your free breast before resuming his path of destruction. He moved his hands to settle on the inner sides of your thighs, spreading them apart and sighing as he got a glimpse of the treasure between them. Your eyes widened upon realizing his destination as you scooched away, holding a handful of his tousled black hair in an attempt to grab his attention.

“I-…” you paused, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking of how to word your statement. “i’ve never asked anyone to do that for me before, so y- you don’t have to do it.” you stuttered wearily as the nerves set in. No one’s face had ever been remotely close to your womanhood and the thought of it sent a chill down your spine as you released his hair from your grasp. You wondered what it would even be like. He glanced up at you, eyes dilated as he chuckled, a dark chuckle that made you shiver as he tightened his grip on your thighs, yanking you closer to his face and taking a deep drag of your scent once you were close enough.

“Oh baby I want to” he basically moaned out, licking his lips and glancing down at your glistening slit, the corners of his lips turning up in a hungry smile. You raised an eyebrow, asking yourself ‘why the fuck would he want to do that?’, and ‘isn’t this for my pleasure?’, but all your concerns were answered once he spoke again. “I can’t wait to make you writhe on my tongue little dove” he muttered, causing your cheeks to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns as he talked into your soaking entrance. “... make you beg and cry without even using my cock.” he continued, releasing your left thigh from his grip as he placed a hand on your pubic mound, lowering his thumb and slowly beginning to circle your clit eliciting a loud wail from you. “You think, if I had the power to turn you into a messy little whore all for me just by using my mouth, I wouldn’t use it at any chance I could?” He asked and you whined, nodding as your hips stuttered up in desperate need of more friction. “It’s all about power baby, and I have it all here” he groaned, watching you clench pathetic around nothing.

Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. His hand resumed its grip on your thigh, forcing it away from the other as his thumb was swiftly replaced by his warm tongue licking up and down your wet sex. You moaned, placing your shaky hands on the mounds of your chest, toying with your nipples just to add to the pleasurable sensations he was creating with his tongue. This feeling was unlike any ecstasy you had ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. His tongue slipped deftly into your soaked entrance twisting and turning skillfully as you keened loudly. His warm wet appendage swirling around your wet cavern was the best feeling in the entire world and you knew if he continued ravaging you at this pace, you’d cum in no time. But, you needed this release. You needed to let go of all this pent up sexual frustration you didn’t even know you harbored. You needed to experience your first orgasm in months, if not years, that wasn’t self inflicted and you hoped and prayed with all your heart that it would come soon.

He switched his focus,, moving his tongue up to play with your aching clit and slipping two fingers into your formerly empty hole with a deep groan that reverberated through your core like a powerful vibrator which only intensified your moans and cries of pleasure. You looked down on yourself to see the delicious sight of him devouring your cunt ruthlessly, the sight alone almost tipping you over the edge as you brought your hands up, covering your eyes while you neared completion.

“Jungkook you’re gonna make me cum.” you called out, an exasperated cry leaving your lips when your impending orgasm was painfully ripped away from you as all his motion stopped. You uncovered your eyes, about to stare down when your body jolted, a harsh sting being felt directly on your clit, sending a wave of warmth barreling through your entire body. Then you understood, he slapped you, and you peered down at him, your eyes glassy due to the orgasm that was ripped from your grasp.

“Who? said you can cum.” he deadpanned menacingly, staring up at you through hooded eyes as you leaned your head back tiredly, realizing the error in your words and prepared to beg, just like he said you would.

“Sir” you cried, holding your arms limply over your head as you continued to plead. “Sir please, please make me cum.” you begged mercilessly, a tear of relief sliding down your cheek as he resumed his assault on your core, attacking at a steady pace and retrieving the all too familiar knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. You reached up, grabbing the edge of the couch with an iron grip, your knuckles turning white as your hips began circling on his face, your clit rubbing against his tongue with every movement and venturing you closer to your sweet release.”Please don’t stop sir, oh my god” you whined loudly, fucking his face relentlessly as you chased your high, nearing it more and more with each thrust of your hips until he finally pushed you off the brink of ecstasy, a scream leaving your lips as Jungkook continued his unrelenting attack on your pained pussy.

You rode out your high, writhing and panting before him, his pace never faltering, his fingers never slowing, his tongue never relenting and it soon became too much. The euphoric delirium quickly turned into madness as you barreled down the path into overstimulation. You wailed pathetically, thrashing under his hold as the pleasurable pain consumed your body and you could barely form a coherent sentence but you persevered, scraping all the coherent thoughts you could muster and turning them into tangible words that sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. “Sir please, it's too much!” you cried to which Jungkook finally let up, slowing his pace to a halt and sitting back.

“Oh my god that was so fucking hot” he growled before sucking on his glossy fingers and cleaning around his mouth with his skilled tongue as he gazed amusedly upon your exhausted body. But he was nowhere near done with you. This fact made apparent when he stood and wrapped an arm around your hip, lifting your limp body and turning you over with ease, positioning you so your face was pressed into the now warm couch cushion and your ass was raised high into the air before him. His eyes rolled at the view of your swollen cunt bent over for him and he gave it a light smack, eliciting a pained, but tired yelp from you as he chuckled muttering “you’re going to drive me crazy little dove.” under his breath.

He crouched down, coming face to lips with your abused cunt as he wrapped his arms around your bent bottom, lacing his fingers together as they rested at the arch of your back and dragging his nose up the tortured path of your slit, drawing whines and cries of overstimulation from your wiggling frame as you tried to get away from the punishing menace that was his face. “No, please. I can't take anymore, it's too much.” You whimpered, your voice muffled as you leaned your face into the couch tiredly to which he obliged, reluctantly, as he stood, grabbing his neglected dick in hand and pointing it toward your pink entrance.

“I can’t wait to stretch your pretty little pussy ____.” he purred and you moaned at the sound of your name slipping off of his tongue like the creamiest butter. He dragged his tip along your swollen clit, abusing it again for what seemed like the millionth time that day as he covered his girth in your slick, a guttural groan emitting from the back of his throat. Then, abruptly, he sunk into your slippery cavern, barely all the way in but you’d never felt so full in your entire life as he pushed forward slowly, filling you up and providing you with the most delicious stretch you’d ever felt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whined, a desperate whine that you could barely register was your own voice as he pushed his length completely inside of you, his head falling back and your name, rolling off of his tongue once again.

After barely giving you time to adjust to his alarming size, he reeled his hips back before slamming into you again, and again, and again, over and over again until he was fucking you at an unrelenting speed you barely knew was possible to achieve. Suffering from the overwhelming pleasure he forced you to endure, you shut your eyes tight, crying out in strangled indulgence as you grasped onto the fluffy throw blanket strewn lazily over the couch in front of you. You relished in the sting of his girth, staring ahead blankly with glassy eyes as he rammed into you with a punishing speed and black mascara filled tears streamed down your cheeks.

You knew you were about to cum soon, again, only due to the all too familiar feeling accumulating in the pit of your belly. Jungkook reached down, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and pressing your chest further into the couch while he drilled into you, moaning and cursing at the feeling of you flexing deliciously around his cock. He felt you were close, so he moved his hand, snaking it around your waist and trailing his other hand to assume its position around your neck, hoisting you up so your back was arched against his abdomen and you had no choice but to stare up at him as he talked down on you, never slowing the snapping of his hips for a wavering moment.

“You’ve never been fucked this good have you?” he teased through clenched teeth as he leaned down, sucking and marking all over the expanse of your neck with grunts and growls of pleasure. You were way too fucked out to even think about the words to form a coherent sentence, barely being able to form whimpered versions of ‘mhm’ after he questioned you but he was having none of that. He unraveled his hand from your waist, tightening his grip on your throat and landing a hard slap to your left asscheek, drawing a shrill shriek from the depths of your throat as he warned in your ear. “Words little dove” he slapped you again, “how many times do I have to fucking warn you.” he concluded, landing another harsh smack to your abused flesh as you whimpered.

“You’re the best I’ve ever had, I’m such a slut for you sir.” You sobbed out, “please let me cum, please fuck” you whined, drawing out your words and you reached back, tangling both hands in his unruly mop of hair as he split you open, moaning directly in your ear which in itself, was a thing that could make you cum on the spot.

“Cum then.” He said obviously, as if it was the most simple response, only it was this simple command that shoved you off the precipice of ecstasy for a second time. The feeling that bloomed deep in your stomach soon blossomed into a full blown orgasm that racked through your body quickly, leaving nothing but white hot pleasure in its wake as your legs trembled viciously, with one last loud cry of Jungkook’s name. But, he still did not falter, his pace quickening as he neared his own climax, the speed both too much and not nearly enough at the same time. You reached back, attempting to push him and escape the all consuming pleasure torturing your body like a blazing fire but your hands were caught quickly by Jungkook’s hands which crossed them tightly and held them behind your back, resuming his attack.

You shook your head, letting it hang as your tears fell freely onto the couch before you, his moans and groans of ecstasy increasing in volume and frequency as he neared his own climax, his hips faltering in their pace for the first time in a while as he worked to his own release. In what seemed like an instant, he released the most beautiful, salacious, strangled moan you had ever heard, pulling himself out of your soaked cunt, and painting the surface of your ass with his white hot ropes of cum. He finally let you go after a moment, watching as you fell limply to the couch, laying face down, panting exhaustively, your arms still crossed limply behind your back as he smirked down at your fucked out frame. He left you alone for just a bit, coming back but a few moments later before you felt the sore skin of your asscheeks being wiped off with what felt like a warm hand towel. You were relieved he had the respect to clean his mess, it made you respect him just a little bit more as a person but you were way too tired to dwell on the subject any longer.

“You did so good for me little dove” he cooed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it as he placed a sweet chaste kiss on your lower back, caressing his hand up the side of your body. A simple touch that lacked any sort of sexual aspects, it felt comforting and you sighed, leaning further into the soft couch as you heard him begin to put his clothing on. You felt a pang of distress, seeing as you were more of a fuck and cuddle kind of girl, but you really hadn’t expected him to stay so why’d you feel the need to ask him to. Pushing the feeling deep inside your gut, you sighed deeply as he walked in front of you to bend forward and grab his gun that laid discarded on the opposite side of your couch, also grabbing the throw blanket beside it and tossing it over your naked frame before thinking about something. “So,” he started, tucking his gun in the back of his pants and humming, “I’m thinking that was worth about, hmm 50k” he started. You vaguely understood what he was saying and knew you’d flip out once you were conscious enough to truly comprehend his words. “I’ll keep in touch.” He said, pulling his shirt down and smiling deviously at you as you uttered a hoarse ‘huh?’ To which he answered simply, “if I wanna come collect some more money” and he spun on his heels, opening your door and sauntering out of the threshold.

When he got into the hallway, Jungkook burst into a wide smile, satisfied with the encounter he made today. He entered this agreement fully prepared to either fuck you once and take the money you’d earned back or just fuck you and kill you, but once he’d had a taste, he was insatiable. You were flawless, your compliance was impeccable. The way you obeyed him, begged for him, the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you looked. There was no way he could ever get enough and is probably the reason he kept overstimulating you like a frat boy with a bruised ego. There was no way he was gonna just let go of an absolute gem like you, so he made his excuse, a plan. Everytime you fuck him, you pay back a portion of the money. He was so tempted to tell you this session was only worth $100 just as an excuse to come back over and over and over until he had his fill, but he kept his composure, giving you hope that you’d ever be free of his grasp. Jungkook for once was extremely ecstatic, elated, excited to ruin you even more than he already had and he was dead set on making you want him just as much as he craved you no matter what it took. Though he was pretty sure you already did.

#bts #bts smut #bts fic #jeon jungguk #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #oneshot #mafia!bts #mafia!jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #bts angst #mafia au #GUNPLAYHAHAHA #IM SUPER EFFED UP #this took sooooo long

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