#YOU WERE ALREADY FUCKING THE MAN YOU DIDN'T NEED TO DO THAT

[bbydoll18xx]

A Glorious Sunrise

There’ll be happiness. Paige makes sure of it.

Paige Bueckers x Reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.2k

Themes: angst with a happy ending, paige is flirty and i love her for it

A/N: hiii i've been MIA but i'm back and omg guys i lowkey kinda love this. this song has been my hyperfixation for the past two months and i've been dying to write a fic to happiness but i didn't want it to be paige-angst so this is what i came up with instead.

also i'm lowkey exposing myself with this fic, and i clearly need therapy sooo PLZ BE NICE

please enjoy and lemme know what you think ;)

~

A single tear slides down your cheek as you close the last box of your belongings, landing on the brown cardboard with a wet plop of harsh finality. You gaze around the room, which is now nearly empty, and a sob that you had been suppressing all day manages to break through your normally tough exterior. 

Seven years of love and laughter gone just like that.

And now, here you were, dividing all of your shit into boxes and contemplating if this feeling was even worth the seven years in heaven. 

The empty space where the bed once stood leaves a lump in your throat. Images of being pulled into a warm, strong chest every night bombard your consciousness, and you turn away, unable to stomach it any longer.

It was a simple story, really. 

You and Jake were high school sweethearts, turned college sweethearts. He had taken you to prom and twirled you around in a sparkly, pink dress. He had taken your virginity, and you had imagined your entire life together with bright, starry eyes. 

College was spent between your dorm rooms, crammed into twin beds and talking about kids and houses with white picket fences. You had moved in together after college, and the two of you were blissfully in love.

But last week, Jake had come home late at night with empty eyes and shaky hands, and he had quietly told you that he was done. 

And in the blissfulness of being in love, the words did not even register for a moment. 

You were still dancing when the music stopped. And the world went cold, the sunshine in your life suddenly burnt out like a candle that was blown out by a bitter wind. The smoke was engulfing your cold frame, curling around you in dark, taunting tendrils.

You shiver now, looking back on it all. Your sweatshirts were all packed already, and instinctively, you go to the closet to grab one of Jake’s. 

The realization hits you like a truck, and you stop in your tracks. What is his is no longer yours.

He is no longer yours. 

Fuck. 

No one had taught you what to do when a good man hurts you, so you were going to pick yourself up piece by piece.

~

“Baby, please just listen t’me,” Jake slurs, his voice coming through the speaker of your phone in loud, drunken drawls, causing you to wince. It was the first night in your new apartment, and you were already struggling with the fact that it was just you and the four walls that surrounded you. 

Your voice wavers as you try to remain level headed. “No. I’m not doing this anymore,” you whisper. The other line is silent for a moment, and you think he has given up. But the delicate swoon of a woman’s voice cuts through the phone, and your stomach lurches with both dread and anger. 

It had been a week, and here he was, filling the divide with random women. 

Well, two could play that game. 

It didn’t take long to fall back into old habits. As they say, old habits die screaming, and it had become nearly impossible for you to hold back from the distraction the steady stream of men and women provided. 

It was deeply unhealthy, and you knew it. Once they would leave, you’d seek solace in the steaming shower where the water both hid your tears and washed away the filth of last night’s activities that had lingered on your soft skin. 

No matter how hard you scrubbed, you could not manage to rid yourself of the bruises and the overwhelming shame that seeped out of every pore.

Your body, which was once worshipped with soft kisses and gentle touches, was quickly becoming a way to numb the pain of having the rug pulled out from under you. Dark marks litter your skin in swirling, chaotic patterns that remind you of how little worth you have.

And in the darkness, the cruelest words taunt your inner psyche.

‘Maybe this is all I'm good for anymore.’

~

Those very words echo in your mind as you stumble into your apartment building on an unseasonably warm morning in April. The doorman gives you a sly look as he notices last night's mascara caked into the waterline of your eyes, smudged from the long night and the rough sex that followed.

You duck your head, wanting to disappear, and you hurry through the lobby, wanting to get out of the sparkly dress that was still adorning your body.

You reach the elevator, pressing the button to go up impatiently. The doors open, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Wait! Hold up, I’m coming,” a voice shouts, and you turn to look in the direction of the girl.

It was like a scene out of one of those ridiculous hallmark movies. Blonde hair gleams in the early morning sun, reflecting off of the large glass windows of the lobby. The girl’s blue eyes shine with amusement as you stare up at her, momentarily forgetting your desire to remain unnoticed. 

She steps into the enclosed space with you, and you let out a shaky breath. Her presence was intoxicating, and it was quickly becoming very apparent that you looked like a goddamn mess.

“Fun night?” She asks with a teasing lilt to her voice, and you blush.

“Not really,” you say blandly, surprised by your own candor. “But it was a good distraction.”

The girl studies you, her eyes raking over your collarbone where a large hickey now resided. 

“I’m Paige,” she says, and you tell her your name as the flush extends over your chest, settling into it.

“I’m in apartment 555. Let me know if you ever want to talk,” she winks, walking out of the elevator. “Or if you need a healthier distraction,” she adds over her shoulder right as the doors close. 

Your face blooms with color again, and your belly erupts in the feeling of excitement. 

Because in that moment, you had unconsciously decided to leave it all behind. 

For there was a glorious sunrise looming over the black hills that had risen in your heart, blanketing a warmth you hadn’t felt in months. And her name was apparently Paige. 

Paige was on the forefront of your mind all day, and you welcome the giddiness, inviting it into your heart like an old friend.

A new motivation pours into you as you walk into your apartment, the bare walls emulating the blandness you had been feeling since the breakup. Your eyes glance towards your storage closet, and without a second thought, you begin to decorate, the pieces of you that you once had to keep hidden were now proudly out on display. 

It was the first step to healing. And damn, did it feel good.

~

Healing is never a linear process. And as your thumb grazes over your phone screen, open to Tinder, your mind fights with your heart over falling back into bad habits. 

You huff, looking around to make sure no one watches you as you stand near the elevator waiting to go back home after the gym one afternoon. Your thumb swipes across a few profiles, almost instinctively, as you mindlessly scroll to find someone worthy of your time. 

You weren’t even going to fuck them this time, you tell yourself. You just needed a little attention to fill the void. 

If you repeat it enough times, surely it’ll start to ring true. 

“She’s cute. Why’d you swipe left?” A husky voice murmurs in your ear, and you jump, immediately closing out the app on your phone and whirl around to face the familiar sound.

“We gotta stop meeting like this,” Paige chuckles, looking you up and down, and you flush.

She just had that effect on you.

“If she’s so cute, why don’t you date her?” You ask, almost defensively, feeling the heat of her gaze. Damn her and those eyes.

“Prefer to meet pretty girls in person,” she smirks, clearly noticing the blush on your cheeks. 

“Did you think about my offer?”

You fight a smile. “Maybe,” you shrug, wanting to keep your cards close to your chest. Even if you had been internally fawning over her the past few weeks, she did not need to know that. 

Her smile widens, and you swear you can actually see a twinkle in her eye. 

“And…?” She goads, leaning in closer to you as the elevator opens, and she leads you in with a hand ghosting across the small of your back. 

“I just got out of a really long relationship,” you start to explain, faltering as she steps even closer into your space. 

“Who said anything about a relationship?” Her eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to yours, tracking your face expertly. 

“I–” you begin, her breath fanning over your face distracting you from being able to put words together. You lean in, your eyes nearly fluttering closed before the elevator pings and the door opens.

You suck in a breath, the realization slamming into you.

Paige squeezes your hip, as you look back up at her wide eyes. 

“8 tonight. Alright?” 

You nod dumbly, enthralled by the trance she had put you in. The elevator doors close, and you’re met with your own reflection staring back at you, and in the silver chrome, you watch your smile come back to life. 

~

You arrive at her door that night, your palms slick, and you wipe them on your pants just in case she holds your hand tonight.

You were lying if you said you hadn’t spent the entire day fantasizing about Paige. You had thought about the way her hair was tucked up in a bun this morning, practically begging you to take it out and run your hands through the soft, golden locks. And you had thought about how her pink, plush lips had formed into a smirk, making you want to tell your funniest jokes just to see the curve of her smile widen. 

You had thought about her hands and the way they had grazed across your skin, setting every nerve ending in your body ablaze with a feeling you hadn’t felt in months. 

All of the people you had hooked up with in your sickening conquest to forget about your ex-boyfriend could not hold a candle to Paige.

And that fucking terrified you. But here you were, at her door, ready to face whatever the universe was going to throw at you. 

There’ll be happiness. You just knew it. 

You shake your head, scolding yourself for the internal gay ramblings, and you knock, waiting for that gorgeous face to appear on the other side. 

The door opens, and your breath hitches as Paige smiles at you, reaching for your hand to pull you inside. 

Thank god you had wiped them off. 

“Welcome to my crib,” she jokes, leading you to sit on her couch.

You scan the room, surprised at how well it was decorated before landing back on her. 

Paige had sat next to you, drawing her legs up in a way that felt strangely intimate. She crosses her hands dramatically. “So, tell me why you’ve been using Tinder to cope.”

You splutter, not expecting her to be so blunt. 

“Damn, you don’t need to roast me,” you giggle, a faux pout on your lips, drawing Paige’s attention to them.

“Is it cuz of your ex?” She asks, and you nod.

“Yeah. I–I guess I just wanted to feel like I had some sort of worth still.”

Paige stares at you with a somber look on her face. She reaches up to cup your cheek, running her thumb across the smooth skin of your jaw. 

“You do. Promise,” she whispers genuinely, and the simplicity of her words rip every single bit of cautiousness from your body. 

And you lean in and kiss her. 

Your lips move in perfect synchronicity, like two dance partners who could see inside each other's minds. You lean into her touch, her hand coming up to rest on your waist, as you nearly squirm onto her lap.

She moans as your mouth opens, letting her fall into you, as two becomes one.

It was perfect and poetic, just as new beginnings tend to be. 

Time slows as you sit with each other, exploring and indulging before you finally pull away, your chest rising and falling in quick, staccato breaths.

Paige places a kiss onto your cheek, brushing her thumb across your lips to sweep away the extra spit that had accumulated amidst the sudden passion. 

“Well, I’d say that was a pretty successful first session, huh?” She teases.

“When’s the next one?” You ask, a giggle bubbling up in your chest, as you lean back into Paige, who just laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

You were going to be just fine.

Paige would make sure of it.

~

welllll what'd you think?? thanks so much for reading

xoxo katy

~

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[notapradagurl7]

Ties That Bind. Part One.

Terry RichmondBillionaire! x Black Fem! Plus Size/Reader.

Summary: On your boring day at work, you were reunited with the former Marine-turned-billionaire Terry Richmond the man you tutored in college, but he wasn't there for a meeting or investment but for a marriage proposal, to you. Little did you know there was more to him than you imagined.

Word Count: 3,292k

( Masterlist )

Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff, dark!Terry, MDNI!, arranged marriage, mention of burnout, stubborn reader, quick wedding, jealousy, Use of AAVE, consensual for both parties, mention of depression, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, confession, violence, mention of a drunk man, mention of cutting family ties,

A/N: I want to do more mini-series for Terry instead of fics, hope enjoy this one! I'm so excited Don't forget to leave a like, comment & reblog to support, or you can always ask for a request Enjoy! ❤️(NOT inspired by fifty shades of gray)

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @babybratzmaraj @becauseimswagman1

@superheroprincess22 @pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky @euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest- @tforpresz @uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn @dpennedit @secretlifeoofmarpessa

@westside-rot @mymindisneverhere

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert @aquarising03

@5starr-staciii @pickuptruck01 @lady-olive-oil @23jammy @zillasvilla @yassbishimvintage

——————-

Your fingers tapped across the keyboard with your dark brown eyes glued to the computer screen, you sighed lowly with pure annoyance and couldn’t wait for this day to be over, your alarm on your phone buzzed twice for your lunch break. You stood up from your desk chair in the cubicle with your work besties, Kiana and Juno.

Kiana had a bright smile, her curly hair bouncing as she stood up. "Girl, you look like you need a day off. How about we hit that new café down the street?"

Juno chuckled, adjusting her glasses. "Or a happy hour. I vote for margaritas."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "You two know I can’t just leave work like that. I have deadlines, remember?"

Kiana waved a dismissive hand. "Deadlines are overrated. You’re seriously burnt out, and we both can see it. Just take a break!"

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from your mom, asking you to join her for a family reunion on Saturday.

But you had to decline since work was keeping you busy, when in reality you didn't want to see them right now, they would always ask if you had a man to catch or a husband yet.

It was so damn annoying.

"Ugh, fine. I will take a break, I’ll just be a responsible adult," you sighed, heading towards the door.

Grabbing your pink lunch bag, and stepped out with ease. You waved at the beautiful black women with their dress clothes and matching heels that clicked on their marble tile floors. They gave you hugs and smiles, delighted to see your face.

“Hey beautiful, you good?” Juno asked gently, her eyes on you.

“Eh, same day, same cubicle Juju. I’ve been okay, still standing, how about y'all?” You explained with a shoulder shrug.

“I’ve been alright, my cat had been going number 2 in the litterbox, its so fucking gross, but I love my baby Lilo” Kiana exclaimed with a lip pout.

“Already, has your cat been checked for that? I've been good lately,” Juno asked with her brow raising.

“Yes, but the doctor said everything is normal, but my cat is fine,”

The three of you have close since high school and college, kept in touch and ended up at same job, you typed and typed documents for your strict boss Kim. She was a bitch, and always said you did everything wrong. It was taking toll on your mental health, you endured travail to get where you needed to be.

But you needed more than a vacation from this workplace, maybe you thought your life was getting dull, no it wasn't you had a decent job, bitchy boss, money and great friends that loved and supported you.

Everyone had a different life and the same kind of life like yours, you're weren't alone.

Entering the roomy break room adorned with beige walls and the aroma of microwaved food, the three of you settled around the circular dark gray table to enjoy your lunch.

Thanking God in the depths of your mind that you’ve gotten a break from the mundane madness.

“I need to go on vacation,” You blurted out, your face resting in your palm.

“How about we all go on vacation? Our how about Brazil?” Kiana exclamined with her hands spread out.

The three of you laughed it off with shared stories and smiles, it was giving young some peace.

Until you heard that familiar deep voice of his, you rested your finger against your lips and listened carefully, “Wait, do y'all hear that?” you whispered to them.

“I-I’m s-sorry Mr. Richmond but what brings you here,” Leigh stuttered nervously.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry to arrive here unannounced and without an appointment but I’m here to speak with one of your assistants,” Terry spoke cordially, his hands in front of him gently grabbing on his wrist.

You, Juno and Kiana peeked out of the break room door, your eyes widening at the striking sight before you. Terry was dressed in a black suit with the tie neatly tucked, speaking to your boss, Leigh.

Leigh stood there in awe by Terry, her mouth parted but no words came out, she could tell that he was a billionaire too.

She agreed to his inquiry, gesturing toward the conference room where he was to take a seat; Leigh eagerly flattered any affluent individual who could enhance her image.

Her brown skin glowed under the white fluorescent lights, and she wore a V-neck black dress with coordinating heels, while her blonde curls danced at her shoulders.

“Yes, who would you like to? Are you here for an investment or meeting?” Leigh asked him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh shit, it’s Terry from college! He still is fine as hell too, I remember him, he’s giving me this vibe, like silent but deadly,” Juno trailed off, smirking seductively.

Kiana’s head turned to Juno with a head shake, waving her off. “Girl, please, he’s definitely giving fifty shades of grey if it was written by a woman and had all black cast but better and I'm Ana,” She gushed with a giggle.

You were still silent from seeing Terry after all these years, he was fine as hell.

You recall Terry from your college days, where you tutored him in math. He visited you during each tutoring session.

It seems your efforts were worthwhile; he was intriguing and quite attractive, and he had also served as a Marine.

You didn't require his help for anything; you were a stubborn woman who valued your independence.

While you understood that Terry could indulge you and offer you his black credit cards, you wanted it to be you secretly. But you didn't want to be desperate.

“Hey, Y/N, didn't Terry have a big crush on you in college?” Kiana asked you in a curious tone.

You still didn't say anything as you tried to remember it. Mona waved a hand in front of your face and snapped her fingers twice, “Y/N, hey! You good?” she asked again.

“He did? He could have any woman that he wants now,” You said to them, shrugging your shoulders.

Juno placed her hands on your shoulders and faced you forward, “Don’t do that, you are smart, sexy as fuck, beautiful, and funny, your personality is amazing, I bet Terry still likes you too,” She sang playfully.

"Y/N! could meet in the conference room, please! With Terry!" Leigh shouted with a stren tone.

Juno and Kiana squealing, and jumping for joy with you. "Oh shit, it's you! I fucking knew it! Ahhhh!" Kiana squealed quietly, patting your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes at them, chuckling at them. "Relax, relax, ladies. We'll be shopping in Paris later,” you joked with a grin.

“You better mean that shit too, girl! The whole nine!” Juno yelled back, smiling like a villain.

You walked out of the break room with nervousness flowing through you, heading toward the conference room.

You pushed open the door and saw him standing behind the table in a black long sleeve tee shirt, matching pants and sneakers, gold Rolex watch on his wrist, glasses resting behind his face.

Terry turned around faced you with those green eyes of his that made your skin tingle.

Hey Y/N, how are you? It’s been a while,” he greeted you with a warm tone, his voice smooth like whiskey.

“Hey Terry, I've been better but it certainly has, I didn't expect you to be here,” You replied back, your voice still steady yet a little shaky.

“Neither did I, but I had to. There’s something important I need to discuss with you,” Terry admitted to you, stepping a bit closer.

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “Important? Like… business important, or personal?”

“Personal, You might want to sit down for this,” he replied, a slight smirk dancing on his lips. “You might want to sit down for this.”

You sat down on the desk chair across from him, looking into his eyes.

Terry leaned forward, his expression serious. “Y/N, I know this is unexpected, but I want to propose something to you—something that could change both our lives.”

You blinked, feeling the weight of his words. “What do you mean?”

“I want to marry you, I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve thought about it for a long time. I want you as my wife, in every sense of the word.” he stated, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Marry me? Just like that? Be honest with me Terry,” You asked him, crossing your arms with a smirk.

Terry sighed, as he leaned against the wall, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

“It’s not just that I want to be with you, My father doesn’t think I can handle the business; he’s set on handing it over to my brother, Tristan,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

His shoulders slumped slightly, revealing the weight of his words.

“See, you can't fool me, Mr. Richmond, you said he was arrogant, irresponsible and a drunk asshole, wasting your parents’ money,” You recited in ‘duh’ tone while holding your fingers out to count. nodding with a soft hum.

Terry smiled and nodded at you; you understood him completely. You were both very familiar with each other.

“See? You know what I'm talking about, and you know what else my damn father said to me?” Terry asked in irritated tone, crossing his arms in frustration.

“He won't give that business to you unless you're married like himself right?” You guessed with a smirk, tilting your head to the side.

You’ve been facing some financial setbacks, obviously, you can see this marriage as a solution. With Terry, he can pay of off for everything, But you did feel the same way about Terry, you thought about it diligently.

“Mhm, yes I'll marry you, Terry Richmond. Where are the papers, I know you brought them and the officiant, always come prepared," You agreed with a mischievous grin, gently tugging at his collar.

“You know me so well, beautiful but you do know that we have to get married, have a wedding, invite our friends and families, the whole nine?” Terry asked with a clever tone, walking toward you.

You giggled with a nod, “Yes I do, I'm making sure that I know what I sign up for, we have to be smart about it. But still you were always so mysterious Terry, there may be more to you,” You reasoned with wit, your finger resting under your chin.

Terry brought out the marriage papers and the officiant from the room, the papers were signed, Terry stuffed them them neatly in the manilla folder.

Terry walked out of the conference room with you, your boss Leigh’s eyes nearly popped out of her socket, and your best friends cheered for you with glee.

“Hell yeah, that's our girl!” Kiana exclaimed with a grin, jumping up and down.

“And we're gonna be shopping in Paris and Rome, we as black women deserve everything! The gotdamn world as our own, created by us, for us!” Juno shouted with pride, nodding her head.

Juno was right about, black women deserved nothing the greatest not just the best, they deserved to be treated with respect and deserved to be treated like empresses, if they could create their own planet then they would do it in a heartbeat.

And just like that, you accepted the marriage proposal, and you quit your job. You didn't need it anymore, and your boss already pissed you off by making you work on the weekend twice.

——————

The next day, you moved in with Terry in a elegant suburban one-story home without a bunch of windows, since he remembered you telling him that you hated a house with too many windows, you liked your privacy.

You were still adjusting to the idea of living with Terry, the man who had once needed your help with math equations but now carried the weight of the world on his shoulders as a billionaire.

You had always admired his ambition; it had drawn you to him back in college. But now, as he stood in the kitchen, brewing coffee in a pair of sweatpants that clung to his toned body, you felt a spark of something deeper — a connection that ran beyond mere attraction.

"Want some?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder, his green eyes catching the morning light streaming through the window.

His voice was warm, inviting, and it sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You nodded, a smile forming on your lips. "Yeah, sure. I could use the caffeine."

As Terry prepared your coffee, you took a moment to absorb everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

You had gone from a cubicle life, filled with monotony and a boss who barely recognized your worth, to living with a man who was not only powerful but also incredibly attentive.

"Y/N, You okay? You seem a bit lost in thought," Terry called, breaking you from your thoughts.

He handed you a steaming mug, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Thank you, Terry,”

“You're welcome, beautiful,”

You took a sip, savoring the rich flavor before answering. "I’m just...trying to wrap my head around all of this, this feels surreal." you gestured around the cozy kitchen filled with sunlight.

Terry leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, his expression shifting from playful to serious. "I know it’s a lot to take in, but I promise you, I wouldn’t have proposed if I didn’t mean it. This isn't just a business arrangement for me."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You could see the determination in his eyes, the deep-seated desire to protect and cherish you. It was a side of him that you had glimpsed in college but never fully appreciated until now.

"I believe you, but what if this doesn’t work out? What if we end up hating each other?" you replied softly, your heart racing.

Terry stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "I refuse to let that happen. I want to build something real with you. I’ve seen the darkness in this world, and I don’t want to face it alone. I want you by my side."

His vulnerability caught you off guard. You had only ever known the confident, charming Terry, but there was a depth to him that made your heart ache for him.

You wanted to know his secrets, the burdens he carried, the demons that haunted him.

"Tell me about your family, What’s your relationship with your brother like?" you urged, wanting to peel back the layers of this man who had captivated you since your college days.

Terry sighed, his expression turning pensive. "Tristan is… complicated. He was always the favorite, the golden child. My father believes he can carry on the family legacy better than I can. It’s strained our relationship. And then there’s my mother…she’s caught in the middle, trying to keep the peace."

You could sense the pain behind his words. It was a familiar struggle, one that many black families faced — the weight of expectations, the pressure to succeed, the fear of disappointment.

"I’m sorry, you don’t have to feel like you’re alone in this." you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.

Terry looked down at your hand, then back at you. There was a flicker of something — hope, perhaps? — that danced in his eyes. "That’s exactly why I want you with me. You understand what it means to fight for your place in this world."

You smiled softly. "I do. And I’m here for it, all of it. Just promise me that we’ll communicate through the tough times."

"Always," he vowed, his voice low and sincere. You leaned in gradually and kissed his him passionately, his lush lips were soft.

You would still need to confront both his family and yours, and you hadn't even informed them that you were married to a billionaire whom you taught in college.

“I haven’t told my family about this marriage yet, and I never told them that I taught you in college, they’re gonna brag and try to take credit for it, or make themselves look good,” you sighed lowly, setting your cup down on the counter.

And in your family's minds, they would see you as the black sheep and golden child, now that you had money, you would be a scapegoat but you knew that Terry wouldn't have anyone to do that to you.

You had to cut off your family for being disrespectful and manipulative, once you moved out and lived with your best friends, you felt free for the first time.

Your mental health was bad at that point, You could finally breathe.

Terry’s face softened at you, “Y/N, you deserve to be celebrated, not criticized. If they can’t see that, then they don’t deserve a place in your life,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Your heart swelled at his words. It was comforting to know that you had someone who understood your struggles and was willing to stand by you.

You’d always seen Terry as a protector, and now he was offering you more than just a partnership; he was offering you a chance to redefine your life on your own terms.

“I appreciate that, Terry. You really don’t know how much that means to me,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion.

He stepped even closer, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken. “I do know, Y/N. I’ve been through my own battles, and I’ve learned that the people who truly matter are the ones who lift you up, not bring you down.”

As the mornings turned into days, you found comfort in the mundane moments spent in Terry’s home. You made the decisions on the decor and colors for the wedding, the date was set, you called your friends and they were squealing again.

You took turns cooking dinner, watched movies on lazy Sundays, and even argued over the best way to load the dishwasher. It was simple yet beautiful, and you cherished every second of it.

You had to prepare yourself for the aftermath of this wedding, you were happy to spend the rest of your life with Terry but you didn't know what else lay ahead.

———————

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

COOL FOR THE SUMMER- L. HOWLETT

pairing: older! dads best friend! logan x fem! reader

word count: 3.7k

summary: your dad urges you to come back home for the week he has all his college buddies back, and eagerly you agree because it means you get to see your crush, and your fathers best friend- logan howlett. little does anyone know your goal: to get logan to fall for you as hard as you've fallen for him

warnings: FINGERINGGG!, squirting, heavy praise kink, heavy size kink, innocence kink, daddy kink, manhandling, pet names, age gap (reader is 27, logan is mid/ late 40s), teasing, swearing, drugs and alcohol used, mentions of voyeurism

"i just wanna play with you too/ even if they judge, fuck it, i'll do the time, i just wanna have some fun with you/ got my mind on your body and your body on my mind/ got a taste for the cherry, i just need to take a bite/ don't tell your father, kiss one another-die for each other/ we're cool for the summer"- cool for the summer, demi lovato

It had been years since you had seen Logan Howlett.

And yet, when his eyes met yours- it was like he had never left.

The same gooey, sticky and sappy honey like feeling churned in your stomach when you saw him, making you feel all warm and giddy. You felt like ice cream melting under his heated gaze, just like the soft serve that was dripping down your fingers as you eyed him up from under your little heart shaped sunglasses.

It was hot today, the July heat showing you no mercy.

It had taken countless hours of whining, practically begging someone in the house to go with you to get ice cream.

It was fully packed this week, your dad doing his annual hosting with all his old college buddies- where they’d all drink beer and smoke by the firepit at night, and shoot darts during the day.

He had invited you home for the week too, to hang out with your mom and “keep her company” (whatever that meant), and she had left you for her bed and a bottle of wine.

You didn't blame her.

But it was 3pm, it was so hot you had your head in the freezer.

There was no ice cream to be found, even when you had pleaded with your dad for the keys to the car- and he had insisted there was some already at home.

What a little liar.

After countless pleads and begs, you had finally gotten his closest friend's attention- Logan.

You had always had a schoolgirl-like crush on the older man, it was deemed impossible not to. Everything about him was just so… manly.

Primal and hard edges, with a quick tongue and little tolerance for whining.

But somehow, you managed to play him like a fiddle. He caved, grumbling something about your brat like attitude, practically picking you up by your flimsy skirt and dragging you to his truck.

Now you were here, in the passenger side, sensually licking the dripping vanilla soft serve that trickled down the cone onto your fingers- eyes refusing to leave his body.

You perched your bare feet up on the dashboard, displaying your pink painted toenails skirt hiking up even higher on your thighs.

His grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles flexing as he stared at the road ahead, watching the pine air freshener swing side to side dangling from his mirror.

You knew he wanted you too. But he was too stern to cave into his urges, and you were determined this week to make him snap.

It had been years of this back and forth teasing, little touches and snide comments made whenever you came home to visit and he was around.

You weren't home very often, but when you knew he would show…

“You finally shut up now kid? Stop your whining n’ all that?” he grumbled and you giggled, hand slipping over to fiddle with loose change in his cup holders.

“Yeahhhh… thanks Lo. I really appreciate it. It’s just so hot ya know and I needed to keep my mouth occupied. S’boring.” you teased, licking your lips before taking another large lick of ice cream, savouring the cool, sweet treat on your tongue.

His apples adam bobbed, knuckles practically turning white.

He whipped into your driveway, nearly ramming into the dozens of other vehicles parked along the gravel, slamming on the breaks. It was enough to make you let out a little “oof” as he parked, turning the key in the ignition.

“You’re a spoiled princess. You know that?”

You raised an eyebrow, unbuckling your seatbelt to lean in closer to him, so close you could smell his cigars and sweat.

“Well I’m only home for so long, you know. And besides, I think you like that.”

His eyebrows furrowed, lines of annoyance creased across his forehead as he shook his head- as if he was trying to break free of some sort of trance.

You looked down, noticing a tent in his pants, and couldn't help but smirk before licking your ice cream again.

“Don't start with me kid. It won't end well for ya.” he warned, sticking a finger out to scold you, as if you were nothing more than a stupid child.

Slamming the truck door behind him, you watched from your seat as he stormed off into the house, and bolted to the nearest bathroom in the entry hall. 

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

The first attempt got you somewhere with him.

He got all hot and bothered, refusing to even be in your proximity for the next few hours. It was later in the day, and yet the heat hadn't dwindled.

It was sticky and you were sweaty, groaning into your pillows as you fanned yourself. It was unbearable. The windows cracked open didnt help, and your dad rarely put the AC on.

But you had the perfect idea to break the dry spell.

You smiled mischievously, scampering over to your open window. You had the perfect view of the backyard, where your dad and his friends were lounging around outside, on the porch near the pool.

And there was Logan, with the perfect view of your window- and he was the only one turned towards you, as he cooked something on the grill, a cigar in his mouth- off in his own little world.

Bingo.

Your eyes zoomed in on your target, and as if he felt your gaze, his own flickered up to your window, gaze clashing with yours.

You licked your lips, slowly taking your (already sorta revealing) top off, leaving nothing to the imagination.

His eyes darkened, zoning in on you as if you were his prey, taking a long, sharp inhale of the cigar. He couldn't look away.

You let your hands trace your hardened nipples before fishing out a skimpy bikini from your dresser, tying it up in front of the exposed glass.

He shook his head, eyes fluttering closed as he flipped the food over to keep from burning, trying his best to appear focused on your dads conversation he would oddly be brought into some of the time.

Next was your shorts, then you tugged up the bottoms. Sending him a flirtatious little wave, you trotted down the stairs, snagging a clean, dry towel on your way to the pool.

You were desperate to get cool in the water- and to mainly- get Logan pent up again. It brought you such immense joy knowing his braided rope was uncurling, the pieces becoming thinner and weaker with each innocent smile and remark you sent his way.

Of course, no one else thought anything of it.

You were your dads good girl, charming and sweet and helpful.

But Logan knew. He always knew. He could sniff you out like a hound.

So when you walked out in your tiny little bathing suit, swinging your hips as you walked by him with not much more than a little glance, you knew he was about to lose his shit.

His fingers curled, tightening on the flipper as he looked over and noticed Bucky Barnes eying you up behind your fathers back, as if you were fresh meat.

Something like a growl escaped his lips, unknownst to you as you had already made your way over to the deep end, and dived in. A shirek left your lips as you splashed around in the cool water, basking in the sun as it started to slowly set behind the trees.

You looked over at Logan as he resumed his grilling, taking a slow sip of his beer, watching you as you treading over to the edge, resting your arms on the stone side, looking over at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Lo, could you pass me a beer?” you asked sweetly and he scoffed.

“No way kid.”

“Logan I’m twenty seven, I’m a big girl. Hand one over.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, ignoring your protests.

“Come get one yourself then princess.” he growled through clenched teeth, cigar close to sputtering out.

“That's too much work.”

“Well? You want one?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes right back at him. “Fine. Be like that.”

You paid him no mind as you swam over to the other side of the pool, perched over to give Bucky that same sweet, sickly look that drove him head over heels.

He had a nice view of your ass though, from this angle. He couldn't complain about that, even if you were talking to a man who wasn't him.

“Mr. Barnes? Could you pass me a beer please?” you asked gently, and it wasn't even two seconds later before he was rushing over to hand you one.

“Course sweetheart. Just dont spill in the pool, or your dad will have my head.” You giggled, turning your head over your shoulder to give Logan a wink.

“Thank you Mr. Barnes.”

“Honey, Bucky is just fine. None of that formal shit okay?”

You nodded obediently, coaxing out a Yes Bucky before taking a long swig of the amber liquid.

Bucky leaned back in his seat, trying to re- engage with the conversation, his eyes darting constantly to stare at your figure as you floated, taking small sips of the liquid.

They were then met with Logan's heavy gaze, pupils so blown out and black he was lucky the BBQ wasn't thrown at his head at this very moment. 

------------------------------------------------ You nodded your head along with the old dad rock as you took a puff of your joint, letting the warm, fuzzy feelings cloud your judgements as you sunk deeper into the lawn chair, watching the flames from the bonfire grow higher as your father tended to it.

You knew he wasn't pleased with you smoking- but what the hell was he going to do about it? You were an adult. It's not like he could tell you you weren't allowed, anyways.

You felt Logans gaze from across the fire, the flames licking his pupils as he stared you down, while you were blissfully in your own world.

Your little sundress had his eyes wandering places they shouldn't have, and it didn't help that when the sun went down, the slight chill had found its home on your breasts, hardened nipples poking out of the soft fabric.

The more hits you took, the looser you felt, and before you knew it- you were dancing and spinning around to

“I Was Made for Lovin You” by Kiss after you had begged them to put it on- joint dangling out of your mouth.

Logan couldn't help but chuckle as you spun and clapped each time the drums hit- giggling to yourself as you watched him carelessly.

“Does anyone want another drink? I’m gonna go n get one.” you slurred slightly, resting your hands on the back of Bucky's chair as you tallied the requests.

Time was blurring back and forth, so whoever hadn’t  requested one was getting one anyways. You stared off into the distance with a dazed look on your face, coming back to reality when Bucky had turned, placing his hand on yours.

“Hon? You all good?”

“On clouds. I’ll be back. Bye!” you waved, giggling uncontrollably as you skipped back to the house.

You weren't expecting company, not hearing Logans muttering about going with you to keep you out of trouble to the group, eliciting chuckles from his friends.

Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes as he jogged to catch up to you, slipping into the kitchen right after you. You were giggling to yourself about god knows what as he entered, your red, heavy eyes sliding up to meet him from where he stood.

You were bent over the counter, rocking your feet up and down, swaying yourself- no intention of grabbing any beer.

“Hi Lo.”

His eyebrows raised with amusement.

“Whatcha doin here?”

“Keeping you out of trouble. Someones a lightweight, if I’ve ever seen one.”

You rolled your eyes. “Am not.”

“Don't deny it. It's cute.” He bit his lip as he looked you up and down, eyes lingering on the swish of the flowy fabric against your soft, plush thighs, and your breasts that were taunting him.

“M’supposed to get beers. But I don't know who for.” you sighed, turning around to face him.

You were so innocent, so adorable it made his heart shatter into a million itty bitty pieces, and his dick hard as a rock.

“Is that so?”

“Mmm. I think Steve wanted one.” you nodded to yourself, feet padding on the hardwood as you walked over to a cupboard, opening in and frowning in confusion.

“Kay I don't see any beers.”

Logan couldn't help but laugh, walking up behind you to place his large hands on your hips, guiding you over to the fridge.

“Don't laugh at me!”

“M’not laughing honey. Just giving my princess some help, yeah?” The word my slipped out faster then he could catch it, and he was thankful you didn't.

He’d never hear the end of it.

You opened the fridge and let out a squeal as he picked you up with ease, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, letting you scout out the whole fridge- grabbing the cold beers on the top shelf.

“Steve, n Bucky, n Logan… who else?” you murmured, wrapping your arms around the bottles to try and carry them all.

“That's all honey. Good job.” he cooed, placing you back down on the ground, shutting the fridge doors behind you as you set the bottles down on the counter, before perching yourself up onto the granite.

You swung your legs, parting them slightly as you watched Logan watch you.

Intensely.

You bit your lip, feeling your panties dampen even more than they already were- which was saying a lot.

You had rubbed and squeezed your thighs together so much because of the older man in front of you, and you weren't even ashamed. Anyone would, in your position.

“What are you thinking about Lo?” you asked, nickname rolling sweetly off the tongue.

You were the only one who called him that. You were the only one who was allowed to call him that.

“Nothin you need to worry your sweet lil head about honey.”

You bit your lip, batting your eyelashes up at him as he dared to inch even closer. The gap was slowly closing between you two.

You smiled softly, spreading your legs, your dress draped over your thighs so he had a clear view of the wet patch on your lacey pink panties.

He audibly growled, clenching his knuckles at his sides so hard they turned bright white as he let out a breath.

“I’ve been really wet for you all day Lo. And I really need your help.”

He took a deep breath. Shut his eyes. He could not do this.

It broke every rule in the moral code book. Seeing and thinking of his best friends daughter like this- what the fuck was he thinking?

But he was in too deep now. He didn't think he could part from you, from that little wet patch.

He could smell you. Practically hear your little clit throbbing.

“You always need my help. Don't think you could do anything yourself- even if you tried princess.”

You cocked your head innocently, slipping your fingers down to your inner thighs.

“I did do things by myself- all by myself. I touched myself to the thought of you filling me up and keeping me full of your cum n…” you broke off, giggling like a schoolgirl.

“And I just couldn't do it as well as you could Lo. You’re so big n strong, and your hands are so much bigger than mine, I’m sure they’d feel amazing.”

“Fuck. FUCK baby you cant-” he panted, slamming his fist down on the countertop.

You didn't even flinch.

“You can't say that shit. I can't- fuck- your my best friends daughter for fucks sake. Fuck.” he swore, and yet he was even closer to you.

Filling the gap between your parted legs, breath mingling with yours.

“And you’re high and just-”

“M’not super high. Just really fuzzy.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure. It's so wrong baby, but fuck I can't stop thinking about you. About this tight lil body I could just use and fuck the shit out of.” he groaned, head falling as he took another deep breath, restraining himself.

His words made your clit pulse even harder, and you were desperate for release.

“It's okay Lo. I won't tell anyone. Pinky promise.” your fingers reached out to fiddle with his dog tags as he lifted his head, hungry eyes staring at your lips.

He licked his own.

“I’m just- jus hurts really bad and I need some help. Please. Please, please I’ll be so good, not a word. Just a little touch, anything- please Lo.” you begged, puppy dog eyes staring up at him.

And how could he deny you? You just begged so pretty, your bright little eyes wide and hazy with admiration as you looked at him, making him feel like the most handsome, wanted man in the world.

He was caving, and caving until he caved.

His lips crashed down onto yours, full of want and need, the sweetness of your lipgloss giving him the balance he needed to fuel his fire.

His hands harshly gripped your inner thighs, holding them open as you whined and moaned into his mouth, trying to wiggle from overstimulation. He kissed you until your lips were swollen, gloss smeared as he peppered kisses down your neck, digging his fingers even deeper into your flesh, hard enough to mark.

“Lo-”

“Yeah, you need my help baby? You gonna let daddy take care of you now? Such a big girl, tryin do everything on her own- but she just needs daddy to do everything for her, doesn't she?”

You nodded dumbly, going into a trance like state as he cooed down at you mockingly.

“Fuckin driving you around all day, watching you in that skimpy lil bikini… now you just want some touches to your pretty lil princess parts, don't you baby? You're such a greedy girl.”

You whimpered at his words, feeling his large fingers trace your inner thighs, teasing you as he inched closer to your cunt.

A moan escaped you, your head lolling back against the cupboard as the pad of his thumb brushed the wet patch on your undies.

“Please, please daddy I’ll be so good. Jus please.”

“Awh baby, you sound so pretty when you beg. You're such a fast learner, aren't you? Such a bright girl, but youre going all dumb now hmm? Gonna let daddy touch you all nice n sweet?”

You nodded frantically as he pressed his thumb down on your clenching hole, the fabric getting sucked in as he pressed.

Finally he pushed your thong to the side, air hissing through his clenched teeth as he saw just how wet you were for him.

You were practically dripping right on the counter. Your juices glistened in the pale kitchen light, and you gripped his wrist as his finger brushed through your folds before entering you, curling inside.

“Feel so good-”

He chuckled darkly, watching your little reactions as he worked his finger before adding another one, stretching you out.

Fuck you were tight.

He wondered how you'd fit his cock. He watched every little move, when you gripped his wrist harder, when your little pants and moans slipped out of your pretty parted lips.

“S’big.”

“Sweet girl, am I touching all those parts you couldn't reach yourself? Feels good?”

“S’good.” You were already cockdrunk and he hadn't even put his cock in you yet. Drool was practically pooling out the sides of your mouth as your eyes rolled back in your head as his coos and praises.

“Don't have very long angel, the guys are gonna wonder where we’ve been.”

You nodded, gasping as his thumb came up to rub gentle circles on your clit, making you quiver and shake.

“And we don't want that, now do we? Daddys friends all seeing you perched up on the counter for me, spreading your legs like the sweet lil girl you are.”

The idea of you guys getting caught somehow brought you even closer to your release, as his fingers quickend their pace. The wet sounds of squechling brought heta to your cheeks, and fuck he loved it.

He loved how flustered you got, under his thumb- how you completely gave yourself over to him, so he could take care of you.

“Daddy I’m gonna-”

“Go ahead baby. I’m right here, I gotcha sweet thing.” he cooed, and that was it for you.

You weren't sure if it was the weed or simply Logan Howlett finally appearing where you wanted him most, between your legs- but your release came hard and fast, knocking the wind out of you as your juices squirted all over his hairy arm, some drips landing on his white tank top.

His eyes widened in surprise, a moan leaving his lips at the sight of you, making a mess all over his fingers.

He was aching in his pants, cock leaking with precum- but he knew he couldnt fuck you now. Not now, not here, and not when you were this dazed.

Instead, he planted a kiss and a praise to your forehead, grabbing a rag to clean you up with, leading you upstairs to your room. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, body still shaking slightly in your sleep.

He smiled to himself softly, enjoying this quiet moment of peace as he watched you- so vulnerable and at peace yourself in your bed. Draping a blanket over you, he kissed your forehead again, not once but twice as a promise, brushing the strand of hair that fell over your face back behind your ear.

Knowing the boys would be wondering where the hell he had been, where you had been- he rushed to the bathroom, relieving himself as quick as possible before grabbing the beers and rushing back outside, lying outright through his teeth.

But for you, it was worth it.

[pricesprincess]

smut mdni | very blah ending skfjntr

"i need it, need you please—john—please!" you whined and pouted, bottom lip jutted out as you stared at him with soft doe eyes that made him hard as stone, pulsing with need in his boxers.

his eyes fell down when you spread your legs once you got comfortable on the bed, the skirt you wore earlier rolled to showcase your bare pussy, slick and wet from his teasing and kisses.

john grunted in his chest wishing he could fuck you raw, and not feel that rubber material keeping him from truly feeling how fucking soaked you are for him. he doesn't care how thin they get.

it still stops him from feeling your wet cunt hugging him tightly.

your manicured fingers drifted between your legs to spread yourself open, clear strings of arousal strung from each pussylip so prettily.

he kneeled on the bed before moving into position to marvel at how soaked you were. you jerked when he touched you gently at first.

his tongue lolled out, tasting you and cleaning up the mess he created, knowing it was only fair to do so. "such a pretty pussy."

your fingers found home in his brown roots, rolling your hips against his mouth, drawing more pleasure to tighten that ball in you.

he sucked and slurped from you like a man starved, his tongue tracing your pussy with slow strokes as his hands rubbed your hips.

"feels so good! i'm gonna cum!"

john chuckled and pulled away, his mouth and beard shiny as he looked up at you with a cocked eyebrow. "already, love?" he teased making you flustered and avoid his gaze as you gripped your skirt.

you pouted and reached out to grasp his shirt pulling him closer as you sat up to look at him dead in his eyes, the seriousness of the moment sobered john up. "fuck me right now, no condom."

he blinked a few times trying to process what it was you just said.

no condom? john knew you wanted kids someday and he wanted a few rugrats himself and his mind was only focused on blowing his load into you to watch your cunt gape with his thick cum.

and your husband isn't one to tell you no and not when he's wanted to feel your slick cunt for a long time now, after going off birth control you decided to use just condoms and it was hard to deal with.

at first, you begged him not to wear one and just to pull out because it felt like you were missing out on something when he had one.

it didn't take him long to kneel between your spread legs, one hand tugging the front of his boxers down to reveal his cock that bobbed from the sheer weight, thick and just the right size to make the edges of your mind fuzzy and make you cry out for him.

john tapped the leaking head of his dick against your pussy making you squeal and swat at him playfully. "ya sure sweetheart?" he asked once more with the tip barely inside you making you gasp.

to feel him without any rubber barrier made you cry when he sunk all the way into the hilt, nose to nose, john stared into your eyes as he placed you in a mating press pinning you down to the bed.

he could barely muster any words as john fucked you with short slow thrusts letting you feel every inch and how hard you made him. you kissed him passionately like it was the last time, his tongue gliding against yours as you cupped his cheeks moaning into his mouth.

and as much as he hated it, john could feel the burning in his gut already, the way your pussy milked him, your cunt so warm and tight that it drove him crazy, his hips working harder now to fuck you.

as soon as you fell into bliss nuzzling your face into his neck could john follow through with his own orgasm while kissing you to help the both of you come down from your highs.

[kisakunt]

THE RICH MAN’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION

GIVE IT UP FOR LOVE

warnings… i mean some absolute swine talk, gojo and geto are evil men, you’re a sweet and pure virgin. swearing, mentions of fucking, really just vile pig shit.

synopsis… suguru and satoru have a lovely chat over a warm summers breeze. oh! and sweet, un-expecting, vulnerable you is the topic of discussion.

a word from the creator… idk if i mentioned this but this fic is based loosely off the movie cruel intentions! banger film, check it out. i wrote a lot of this chapter awhile ago so if the writing style switches up next chapter don’t sue me. i’m excited!!!! here’s to the next eleven chapters of hell

series masterlist

Gojo hates the heat. He thinks he's tolerated it before on his father’s yacht or when he did an unnecessary shirtless carwash for extra money he didn't need; but right now with the breeze through the window— that Suguru demanded be open— overbearing the air conditioner, he's absolutely positive that summer is the worst.

“Start of the year’s comin’, yknow.” He typically broke the silence— as if he could ever shut up to begin with— and he was almost always met with a:

“No shit.” strident response. Those seemed to be Suguru’s speciality, and provoking them seemed to be Satoru’s.

It’s too hot. His white hair presses into the drywall, feeling much cooler than the air outside. “I’m not stupid, Suguru. Neither are you, you know what I mean.” It’s an overdramatic sigh— a call for attention— as he turns his head over to look at him.

“They’re gonna ask us about it soon.” And, in some way Suguru can’t really comprehend, Gojo sounds excited.

His manner isn’t necessarily wrong, not so much as it is unexpected. The ‘new year, new fuck’ competition of Azabu was practically famous among the young men certain to attend— the sons of the sons who started it, and all their nephews or cousins or any synonym for a pig of a relative that they could come up with. And, luckily enough, they had the privilege to be top candidates.

The competition was started by the current dean’s uncle, a horny fuck-all type who would take any and all excuse to boost his ego while tearing down a girls— or maybe he really did just want a good lay. But, it grew and grew and grew, and now it was almost ritualistic, a second identity of worthiness in the form of fucking a virgin before anyone else did.

Sure, they were nothing but thrilled for it as high school reached an end, or even the first or second year of university. But now it just seemed dull.

But, traditions are custom, and customs are a necessity. It’s almost become lore throughout their little clique of affluence; whispered stories from childhood turned into real competition after a long wait, especially from a group of people who so rarely have to wait for anything. It’s inspiring, they think, means to associate themselves with a lower class; normalize themselves just a little more.

Alumni share stories at functions, putting the frat in fraternizing, nonchalance on the tips of their tongues. Sometimes the tone almost feels dark, and Suguru thinks if he were a better person he’d feel some type of sympathy for the girls. Any fragment of empathy he had wiped away when he won for the first time, though, wide smirk as his year mates glared at him; memories of the tight, albeit idiotic, girl engrained behind the lids of his eyes.

Even so, it gets old quick. And it’s not like they don’t fuck dumb, stupid, silly girls with nothing to say for the rest of the year anyway. So, he can’t quite figure out what Gojo is all too excited about.

“Well try to make sure your dick doesn’t get hard from the thought, you fucking freak.” There’s a giggle from the other man, a scoff too, and he pushes his hand out at him.

This is crucial. This is who they are together. A pair— whether it’s a pair of awful men or not.

There’s also a sense of trepidation that comes with it, of course. It’s exclusive, more so than they already are, and if you do one thing wrong- speak a little too loud, come off too brash, give a lackluster lie after actually getting caught— you’re out. And whose pride would want that?

“It’s stupid we always gotta wait for them to sit us down, it’s not like we don’t know what’s coming up.” He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “Plus, what a fucking weird thing to say to your kid.”

“I mean the whole thing’s odd if you think about it.” Gojo shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets, forearms bare against the linen of his trousers.

He’s right, of course. Even if neither of them feel guilt for their actions, they can’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach when their own fathers sit them down and incite such a twisted view on them.

Be that as it may, it’s not too bad when that’s all they know, and it’s not like either of them are going to complain at a quick orgasm, a nice pair of tits, and that goddamn feeling of triumph.

“Do you think they’ll cry again?” Satoru mocks, brimming with glee as he leans in the direction of his friend. “It’s always funny, dontcha think?”

“As if you’d know,” There’s a smirk despite the aggression in his tone. “Dunno why it matters so much to you, you already got bitches babbling about you all the time.”

Gojo sighs, expression bored and childish and fucking greedy. “Yeah, I know but…” His voice peters out, lost in the room. Elation bubbles back into his features, warming his cheeks and animating his eyes as he looks at Suguru.

“Yknow, I heard the dean has a daughter starting, actually. Real sweet gal, even wrote a whole fucking magazine article about the importance of ‘saving your innocence’” his voice wobbles, eyes rolling as he sneers. “for someone you really love.”

“Sounds like she’s ugly.”

“Thought so, too, but..” He trails off, hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, pupils dilating at the light on his screen. It doesn’t take him long to find the photo; clearly he’s been sitting on his discovery for awhile, anticipating when he could tell him. “Look.”

Suguru doesn’t like to be wrong, much less will he ever admit it. “Holy shit.” You aren’t necessarily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, probably not even the prettiest he’s seen in the last month, but you were definitely something.

Maybe it was the curve of your jaw or the tint in your lips, but the photo set something off in him. On the surface he thinks it’s the just barely explicit face you’re making in your mirror, phone in hand as you look into your lens, but really, honestly, if he’s searching deep down— it’s the fact he knows you’re the one girl who wouldn’t just throw herself on him if he so kindly asked.

“Sugu, are you ever bored of this? It feels too easy, right?” Suddenly Gojo’s previous excitement feels misplaced, voice itching for more. “Hardest part about it is finding out who’s actually a virgin or not, and that’s pretty simple with how awkward they get.”

“What are you saying?” Maybe he already knows, maybe he’s hoping for the obvious, but he asks like he doesn’t care. The former moves fast, hand steady on the desk as he leans far too close for comfort. In any other situation, he’d probably be met with a harsh jab to the face, but this feels different— secret.

“Let’s do something, on our own, just you and me.” He almost seems too impatient, pressure digging into the ground from the toes of his shoes and gaze begging. It was the kind of thing that made you want to agree, if nothing else to just feel a fraction of the way he seemed to be. Before Suguru could even consider the idea, test the waters and make Gojo beg a little bit, said boy opened his mouth again.

“I mean, unless you’re not up for it. You don’t really seem like the type to make a girl give it up for love.” He snickers, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as he feigns swooning.

“Geto, I— I love you.” His voice is high, wheezy in his imitation and a little rude. “I think.. I think I’m ready- I want it to be you.” He cuts himself off with his own laugh, hand circling over his mouth to try to stifle himself. “Could you imagine?”

“The fuck does that mean?!”

“Cmon, Suguru, you’re not really the endearing type.” He’s edging him now, tone manipulative and pressing and snarky and Suguru knows— of course he knows, but it can’t help but irk him.

“What are you thinking?” And now Gojo’s beaming again, feet guiding him back across the room to his bag, books stacked neatly inside, lying even against each other. He pulls out a magazine and tosses it to him haphazardly before he reaches back for a notebook and a pen.

“Page 36, read it.” The article is cheesy. It’s too long and feels like something right off a self care Facebook page. Suguru is sure he physically recoiled a couple times reading it; especially when you wrote ‘Virginity is a miracle— the ability to show someone how much you love them in such an intimate way should be saved for someone special.’.

It’s shocking that you’re the daughter of the man who oversees their little sex game.

Suguru thinks you’re vile— embarrassing and pathetic and a huge fucking waste of what seems like a really good pair of blowjob eyes. It makes his skin crawl and he verbally scoffs when he reads your finishing sentence about cherishing your virtues, so focused on the arrogance in your punctuation that he doesn’t even hear Gojo’s laugh.

“Pretentious as shit, right?” He snorts, eyes flickered as he recites the passage in his head. “It’s gonna feel so good to fuck the words right out of her mouth.” Suguru didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but it wasn’t that. It’s clear through, through and through, that he’s dedicated to the idea.

“I mean sure, I guess you’ll have your turn. Maybe she’ll fuck just about anyone after I win.”

“Wait, so you’re in?”

“Whatever.”

“Fuck yeah!” He’s joyful, fist pumping into his chest in a quick celebration before he’s holding up his notebook, standing directly across the floor from the desk.

The wood is dark, deep and marbled, glazed over the top and lined with little symbols of power in the form of trophies. It’s clearly something too nice to serve as a welcome mat, but nonetheless Suguru rests his heels on the surface, ankles crossed over each other as he leans back in his chair. His eyes point to the ceiling to look at anything other than the annoyance in front of him.

“Well clearly we need to set up some rules.” He sneers in his seat when he remembers not looking at him won’t make him shut up.

“Okay well we have the obvious: whoever fucks first wins. And I mean fucks, none of that sloppy anal shit. Doesn’t count.” It’s almost funny, but neither of them acknowledge it. If they do, that’ll come hand in hand with the fact they’re acting just like their fathers.

“She has to be sober.” He didn’t really expect himself to say that, but he did expect Satoru to whine.

Gojo lets it sit in the air for a second before he nods curtly and jots something done.

“Would it be too cocky to say she has to cum?” The journal’s away from his face now and someone could, and probably would, argue that the walls are lucky to see the boyish grin he’s got. His smirk pulls up at the corners of his lips, but Suguru just finds it vexing. Gojo is far too full of himself, he thinks, and he hates to admit there’s good reason.

Nonetheless, he has to give him a little shit. “Do they normally not with you?”

“Hey! That’s not what I meant, asshole.” There’s something sweet to Satoru, under all the sickening that is his personality. It makes people understand just why girls fall for him, and definitely helps him keep a good image to the public.

And there’s something smart to him that makes you feel like he could really pull whatever he wanted off. It makes the idea of competing with just him much more appealing.

“Are we gonna have like a— fuck I don’t know— like a time limit?”

“Fuck is this? A video game?”

“I mean no, but competition wise if it takes us like half a year isn’t that kind of stupid? Because who’s to say she won’t ‘really love you’ by then, and then you’re not making her go against anything, yknow?” And there's also something meticulous about him that makes him aggravating as all hell.

“Fine. A month.”

“Just a month?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Plus, anything longer than that and we’d just be a couple of fucking losers chasing after a bitch.” Suguru knows Gojo is giving him a look without even seeing it, the slightly judgmental and almost kind one he does. “What? You’re the one who said it to begin with.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. A month.” It’s silent for a second, comfortable with all their years of each other, before he clears his throat.

“That it then?” Maybe they’re the same kind of evil. Maybe they deserve each other.

“One more, actually.” There’s that feeling from him again, the tone that makes Suguru want to agree aimlessly for no fucking reason other than the possible rush. And before he can fester; before his skin can start to crawl and his hands can get clammy just from that sheer desire in his voice, Gojo grins.

“You need proof. And I don’t mean her saying it, because you can bribe anyone into saying anything. Gotta show it, photo or video or something, balls deep or whatever the fuck.” That almost makes Suguru laugh.

“I don’t think she’s gonna go for that one, no matter how good the dick is.”

“She doesn’t have to know.” Now he’s really thrilled. He doesn’t know what it is, but that lights something in him, stirs in his stomach and causes a little quiver in his brow.

“Fuck yeah, man,” he’s really laughing now, pointing at the journal harshly. “write that shit down.”

There’s something unspoken over them now, a deeper bond than they thought they could have. Neither of them would ever admit it, but it feels like they’re those two high schoolers again, counting down til they can become something fucking great. This is the feeling they’re supposed to get from their fathers’ stupid fucking contest. This is actual competition, a chance to actually win.

A new air falls on them, mixed back in with that warm, rich breeze.

“Okay, that settles that then.” Gojo offers, fingers tapping the binding of his book. “She has to be attending the start of the year banquet so that’ll be an excuse to meet her. Everything from then on is up to us.” Suguru always dreaded that shitty event, but now he finds himself doing mental math to count how far away it is.

Even if the whole thing is trivial, and even if you seem like the most uptight thing ever, Suguru is a man of pride. And prideful he’ll be.

“We still gotta do the ‘new year’ thing, you know. They’ll burst a fucking artery if we say we’re not interested.” His voice is gravelly and calm and so not anything he’s feeling, but he thinks Gojo buys it when he chuckles.

“Can you be excommunicated from being a womanizer? Because I think we would be.” They’re almost joking like everything is normal. It’s different, so much different, but they’re acting the same.

“I’m gonna go grab some water and maybe call one of your maids to make lunch, you want anything?” Suguru shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he tries his hardest not to look at the journal Satoru set on the side table.

“Suit yourself, I’ll be back.”

“Whatever,” He waits after Gojo walks out. Waits a good forty five seconds before he stands up, and he crosses the room in about three.

He glances over at the thrown aside notebook, eyes quick as he scans it. The handwriting is adjacent to messy, scattered and the page is littered with semi vulgar doodles and side bars. It’s coherent, though, and even though they both know Gojo had no intention of giving it to him, it’s got his signature at the bottom.

1. Full fucking!! Penis in vagina

2. No signs of being inebriated. Absolutely stone cold sober

3. If it takes longer than a month after everyone is introduced we’re both “a couple of fucking losers” (< Sugu’s words)

4. Orgasms are important ! Or at least near orgasms (she is a virgin)

5. Photo / video proof. If you can’t get it, you aren’t in it (haha! get it?)

He snickers at four, the uneasy tone in the second sentence almost self deprecating. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a smidge of respect that he ended up adding it to begin with.

He grabs the pen from the table, pressing into the paper too hard as he leaves his chicken scratch of a John Hancock. Okay, maybe this will be fun.

taglist… @moonlight-pearls @sharkerino @echerie

[l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft]

Rosekiller Fake Dating AU Anyone?

Barty was already in a pissy mood from the asshole at his tattoo shop, so he certainly didn’t appreciate the dramatically southward turn his meet-up with Regulus took almost as soon as he sat down. 

“Plans have changed,” Regulus said as soon as he sat down at their table at the cafe. Very blunt. No nonsense. Barty usually appreciated his friend’s penchant for getting straight to the point, but this time it made him frown and slouch lower in his seat. 

“How?” He asked even though he didn't really need to. Regulus was going to tell him whether he asked or not.

“Mother was suspicious about my bringing another man as my plus-one.” Regulus said. Figures. His mum was a grade-a bitch. 

Barty let his head hang off the back of his chair stuck his thumb up in front of him, “Cool so I’m off the hook. Love that for me. Good luck with whichever dame you bribed into hanging off your arm all ni-”

“I wasn’t finished.” Regulus interrupted because of course he did. “Mother was suspicious, but I’m afraid cancelling the reservation and bringing a girl instead was not quite enough to convince her.”

Barty blinked at him and shrugged, “Okay? And…there is a reason we give a singular flying fuck about this?”

Regulus pinched his eyes shut as he often did, though Barty hadn’t the foggiest notion why. “Yes, you twat. I’m not exactly about flaunting to an entire room of my mother and father’s most influential friends that I’m anything other than the perfect heir they expect I am. I need my family’s money if I want to make it through law school.”

“Boooooo.”

Regulus did not appreciate this feedback. He frowned all the way through quickly asking for a coffee from the kind woman who had appeared to take their order and rolled his eyes when Barty put in his own request with a wink in her direction as she walked away. 

“So what’re you gonna do about it, boss?” Barty asked as he sat up and reached to fiddle with one of the loops in his ear.

Regulus' back straightened, “I’ll be attending with a woman named Pandora Rosier. Her family oversees a popular real estate firm and are relatively well-to-do. I won’t arouse any suspicion being seen with her.”

Barty nodded. Rosier. Rosier, where had he heard that name before…

“In order to prove there are no particular feelings between the two of us as my maman suspected,” Regulus went on, “you will be attending with her brother, Evan Rosier." 

Still trying to puzzle out that last name as he was, it took Barty a moment or two to process what Regulus had said. Wait he was supposed to-

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What like a date?"

Regulus seemed frustratingly nonplussed by this. He shrugged, "I suppose, yes."

Oh hell no.

“No.” Barty had never refused anything faster in his life. Nope. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not, no way.

“Barty I really don’t have time to argue the details with you on this-”

“No,” Barty scowled across the table at Regulus, “Hell no. I said I would go as your plus one, not be a part of your whole ass entourage and pretend to be on a date with some dude I don’t even know.”

“You wouldn’t be my-” Regulus stopped and let out a harsh breath, “You have to go.”

“No I don’t. It’s fuckin stupid.”

“It’s not stupid and yes, you do.”

“Fuck me left, right, and up n’ down an alley and I still wouldn’t go.” Barty snapped, crossing his arms even, and turning his back to his friend.

Regulus muttered what were probably some obscene words under his breath before speaking, “You haven’t even seen him yet.”

Barty’s eyes practically rolled back into his head but he turned back around, “I don’t need to see the bloke to know this is bull-”

He stopped. Decisively. Immediately. His jaw went embarrassingly slack as his gaze fell to Regulus’s phone screen in front of him.

Well fuck me left, right, and up n down that alley…

Barty tried to salvage the shreds of his dignity with a nonchalant shrug, “He’s alright.” He was beautiful. Weirdly familiar looking. But fucking beautiful.

“Well?” Regulus raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Fuck me. “Fine.” He grumbled, “I’ll fucking go.

He could practically feel Regulus smirking. “Perfect.”

[thephantomsdream]

At times, I want to smooch my own brain because last night I had the most fantastic dream. Start to finish. Hear me out:

Actor!Simon in a B99-like show. Actor!Johnny was his irl friend and the reason he ended as an actor himself, somehow. The director told Johnny of an idea he had about this scary giant that would barely talk, would put off people and intimidate them by just staring at them. It took the Scott 0.1 seconds to call his friend, a mechanic who fixed motorcycles and worked on his specifically, and also fit the description perfectly. (In any way, it all started with Johnny, who didn't understand boundaries at first, and Simon just ??? went with it, letting the man invite himself in his life, but whatever, they were buddies now. Also, Simon agreed because HE KNEW Johnny was a pain in the ass if he really wanted something.)

Soap and Gaz tried really hard in an episode to make someone confess. We're talking hours and hours spent in the interrogation room with no result, until at the very end Price, the Captain, congratulates them for cracking the case. He asks Johnny how he did it, and the man just shrugs. "All instinct, wha cannea say?" Skip to a scene where he drags Simon to the interrogation room, leaves him there with the suspect, locks the door behind them and said suspect immediately starts crying under Simon's cold death-stare.

Cue to you, another member of the cast, just there as a smaller role, appearing from time to time as the sweetheart receptionist. In real life, you applied to the gig because you were in need of some extra money, but did not expect to get it. In any way, it ended up being the best thing ever happening to you.

The whole cast and crew noticed it, the small smiles Simon sent you and how you'd give him pretty eyes all the time. It was all chemistry from the very start, although both of you kept it lowkey.

Anyway, some ideas ran around the writing crew to make the intimidating giant have some interesting interactions with you in the show. Fans went crazy, a battle of whom to ship started, and of course, Johnny and Simon were a ship, let's be real, throughout some others. Yet some fans started to see some patterns between your characters.

Show!Simon would always help you carry paperwork, the same Simon that glared a newbie out of the academy, or made Kyle write an apology letter because he bumped into him by accident and he had to read said apology out loud in front of the whole department. What I try to say is social interaction, going out of his way to help people and just being over-all nice wasn't Simon's deal. Most of the times.

You'd say you're heading home after the boys worked to find a burglar, and he'd casually drop that he'll take you since he's heading that way too. The same Simon that left Johnny stranded because he ate a burger in his old but very cherished Impala and the man left a ketchup streak on the seat, meaning nobody ever was allowed in his car anymore. But... you got offered a ride? Huh?

Show!You would be known for being sweet and always making fantastic food, like your signature cupcakes. Price would say he'd convince you to bake a whole tray for Simon if he did him a favor and of course Simon would agree immediately. A begrudgingly low "Deal" before he stormed out to do said favor.

But... he wasn't really a glutton. We're talking about the Show!Simon that had a one-way feud with a bakery because the owner made a slightly ignorant comment on their public Facebook, and it's been bothering him forever.

Johnny: Ye have Facebook, LT?

Simon: Course I fucking don't.

(Flashback to him opening FB posing as a granny, commenting shit on the bakery's page and the owner responding with "Dorothy, NOT AGAIN! I ALREADY APOLOGIZED! ON LIVE TV!" And then showing Simon snorting in front of the laptop, drinking a beer amused.)

But some attentive fans caught the Easter egg, a message popping up with a picture of a face very similar to yours. Or the interesting braided dark brown leather bracelet he had around his left wrist only seen when he lifted his arm to drink the beer. It had a single round gem on it. Funnily enough, while it looked like any dude-bro bracelet from afar, enough to not many anyone suspicious, he never seemed to take off his after that point. And one very dedicated fan spotted something. The color of the gem. It was very... peculiar...

Color spotted on your wrist too, throughout many episodes, where a pretty bracelet made of suspiciously similar round gems adorned it nicely. Huuuuh...

There were small little comments you both made, too.

The Captain handed you some documents and smiled amused.

Price: You got tan, sunshine. Enjoyed your vacation?

You: I adored Spain. Loved the small town idea, John, it was so relaxing.

+

Johnny: Hey, Lt., any place you'd move to after you retire?

Simon: Somewhere warm. Like Spain.

Johnny: ??? How come?

Simon: Tapas and vino tinto.

Johnny: (amused) Can ye even speak the language?

Simon: (dead-serious) Camarero, dos vinos tintos, gracias. (Waiter, two tinto wine glasses, thank you.)

Johnny: (baffled, stuttering questions)

Kyle: (behind Johnny, also baffled) Did he say "dos"? (Dos meaning two)

In the break room, you made an apple pie for the team and left it in the good care of Kyle and Simon comes in just as you were leaving.

You: Oh, Simon, good to see you!

And you both leave the break room, all while Kyle is seen trying to text and carry the pie, and immediately drops it as Johnny excitedly enters and spooks him. Meanwhile in the backround there's you handing Simon something out of your bag, oblivious to the pie brutality happening.

Show!Simon enters the break room again with a lunchbox and sits by the crime scene, looking down at the pie, then slowly up at a frozen Garrick and MacTavish. He proceeds to eat his food (later confirmed to be a Shepherd's pie) and ignore them as they freak out because Price LOVED apple pies, specially your pies.

Said later being:

Price: And what were you doing while they ruined my—... our pie?

Simon: Was eating.

Price: (visibly annoyed) That so?

Simon: (visibly smug) Had the best bloody Shepherd's pie ever.

Price: Enough. (Insert grumpy old man tantrum while he storms off to his office)

Why do I mention the Shepherd's Pie? Well, a season later, as the boys try to find out something, anything about The Ghost, Simon Riley, they finally have to beg him to tell them literally anything about himself. What they didn't know is that while he answers smugly that he likes Shepherd's Pies, a simple answer after SO MUCH begging, as you finish the series, you understand that Simon Riley gave these two idiots the most important information they needed to know.

In the later episodes, after a horrible beef with another police station with a dude called Graves, Simon and Kyle sit at a bar drinking, when two beautiful girls approach them. Kyle's all over the moon, meanwhile one of the girls tries to flirt with Simon but he immediately shuts down.

Simon: Imma head out, Garrick, need some food in me.

RandomPrettyGirl: How about I take you home and feed you good? Make you a nice roast, handsome.

Simon: Not interested. Got myself the perfect Shepherd's pie at home.

(And he leaves with a nod towards Kyle, leaving the woman stunned, but also Kyle himself. That's when it's speculated he finally understood.)

Price: What did you make there, sunshine? Smells delicious.

You: A pie. (You'd smirk at him as he leans over the counter, interested.) Not for you. This one has meat in it.

Price: Bloody hell, woman, I thought at this point you'd know I'd eat anything you make, even if it were off the floor.

You: Shame. Didn't make any for you. (You'd smile sweetly at him then giggle at seeing him deflate and be sad.) Oh, for the love of— John, go in your office, yours is already on a plate. (John then sprints and locks himself in his office. Indeed it was bloody fucking perfect.)

Or the many times Simon would be seen eating from the same lunch-box, a dark blue one with some intricate drawings on it, meanwhile someone spotted you in an episode sitting at your desk with a matching light blue one, same intricate designs on it too. The fandom was on fucking fire for that.

But what I truly believe is that Simon would just nonchalantly drop that you two are dating.

Anyone: What's your type?

Simon: My girlfriend.

Everyone: ??????

+

After hearing that, everyone (not really) started to speculate who this girlfriend is. It was mostly Johnny but Kyle was also curious, or more likely suspicious. The latter hasn't really caught Ghost with whom he suspected, and wanted confirmation too.

Johnny: (inspecting a crime scene, hopping over a dead body) Okay. Tall, red-head, always wears leather?

Simon: (rolls his eyes while scribbling in his note-book)

Johnny: (mutters butt-hurt how his good friend and Lt wouldn't trust him with the first woman he's ever mentioned)

(2 minute later)

Johnny: Alright! Is it someone I know?

Simon: (silently locking eyes with him, pausing what he does)

Johnny: (screetches) IT IS?! Wait. Is it— Ah, (dramatic pause, looking at the corpse) the wife murdered him.

Simon: Yes. (closes notebook and heads towards the door)

Johnny: Wait! Yes to what?

+

Kyle: (trying to act casual back at the station in front of a board filled with murder pictures and notes) So...

Simon: (ignores him while reading a document)

All he had to do was to say your name once and he got the Ghost looking at him straight into his soul, document in his hand forgotten. And it shows that Gaz had balls because he stared back into his eyes, big difference from the little shit he was at the beginning of series.

(2 minutes later)

RandomPoliceOfficer: Lieutenant Riley, sir? Someone is... asking for... what... is going on?

Cue to camera focusing on Simon and Kyle still having a staring contest.

+

Price: Good job today, boys.

Johnny: Night, Cap'.

Kyle: Evening, sir.

They both leave, bidding their goodbyes.

Simon: (curt nod towards his Captain)

Price: Tell the missus hello from me. (And of course, he has to smile amused at Simon, knowing what the others have been up to.)

Simon: Trying to get her to make you some food?

Price: Wouldn't kill, she's been starving me.

Simon: You're just mad I get to eat all of her food, that's it.

Price: Being cheeky towards your Captain? I could fire you right now, you know?

A rare moment of them chuckling alone before Simon also leaves the station to head home.

That was the begging of the end. Don't get me started with the ending. A whole episode dedicated to you two, one of the last of the whole series before the wrap-up. It all started the previous episode with Johnny getting a brick thrown at his window, startling him and his boyfriend up, only for him to realize the brick had a letter attached to it. After a whole moment of Johnny throwing tantrums in the whole department, in front of the whole team, and after a horrendous goose-chase that makes Johnny believe he has a stalker that has known him for years, sending him in specific crime scenes he's been at before (he's fucking loving it, we all know it), he finally finds an empty storage unit with a chair and a single card sitting on it. A wedding invitation. Simon's and your wedding.

And so it begins the next episode, with a small wedding and I don't even know what sort of minor but funny inconveniences they'd have, the wedding goes on, and both Show!Simon and Show!You kiss under a beautiful tree, just family and close friends there to applaud you.

What the public took some time to find out (as the news came out AFTER the ending) was that the actors, Simon and You, real you, married on that set too! The random props? Actual family and friends, plus the people on set. Only the director knew and was fully on board by then.

Seasons of seeing you two dumb lovebirds, kinda awkward giant introvert that froze anytime you were around and you, a dumbass with a giant crush that was obvious to everyone in your close vicinity, absolutely almost sicken everyone with how cute you were. The whole crushing gave the director the idea, and it solidified as years passed. It was going to be very subtle things (stuff that even Simon and you helped create) and it worked wonderfully. By the ending of the first season, you two were dating in real life, and by the end of the whole show, you surprised everyone after the final "Cut!" of the wedding episode (there's always a wedding episode, huh?) by telling everyone that you two are now officially married!

I hope I made you smile and if you have any other silly ideas about this AU, Imma be reading the comments!

Like Price and Nik being married, and Nik being a firefighter, leading to many jokes about it.

Kate would work as a lawyer or even a judge. ("My wife" expert.)

The station having a fat cat as a pet that lurks around and it once threw Simon's stuff on the floor. He then adopted a retired bomb-sniffing dog and brought her around every so often just to piss off the cat. (He has issues with literally anyone and anything, you CANNOT TELL ME he isn't a petty old man).

Johnny is hella smart but in an ADHD way. Man's a natural with defusing bombs too and I feel he'd carry this show.

Gaz is the puzzle guy, like genuinely smart-ass about it too. Also a true crime watcher. He's at home in a silk robe watching serial killer documentaries.

[miamooooo]

josh putting a bratty reader in their place.

(warnings): nsfw, reader has female anatomy, pussy spanking, cunnilingus, overstimulation, spitting, slightly proofread, sorry for any typos!

yes josh loves a mouthy or sassy partner. josh gives off vibes of enjoying someone with a little brattiness to their personality because he loves how unpredictable you are. he finds it so easy to tease you, and he thinks it's both cute and hot when you don't take his shit and call him out. but he also enjoys putting you in your place if he needs to as well.

so imagine getting mouthy with josh after he asks you a simple question. you're giving him the nastiest attitude, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.. and at first he thinks maybe you're just having a bad day, so he lets it slide... not without a few jokes that pisses you off, obviously. but if it persists...

josh is murmuring to himself as he makes his way to the bedroom. he stops by the doorway, forearm resting on the frame before he speaks. "hey babe, do you uh know the last place i left my hoodie?"

you look up from your phone, letting out a dramatic sigh before meeting josh's gaze. "really.. again? maybe if you took better care of your stuff, you wouldn't have to ask me every five seconds."

josh is so used to your smart mouth by now because he's awfully calm, tilting his head at you and pretending to be hurt by your little comment. "ouch. is that how you talk to your boyfriend?"

you roll your eyes at him, knowing that he was already starting to entertain the situation and enjoy it a little too much. "josh, don't piss me off.. you really don't wanna get me upset right now."

josh laughs at your pouty face, pushing off the doorframe and making his way closer to your sitting form on the bed. "oh, wouldn't i?" he teasingly ask. he really couldn't take you serious when you looked so cute trying to be all mean to him.

"you're so damn cute," he murmurs, leaning down and gently cupping your jaw in his hand. "but if you keep this up, i'm gonna have to remind you who you're talking to. alright, sweetheart?"

for a moment, the only thing you can do is stare up at him, contemplating if you should say something snarky back, and he's just waiting for the moment.. you can tell. he knows it'll happen, but you wanna try and prove him wrong.

... which is why you couldn't resist and replied with something bratty..

... which is also why you're in the current predicament of josh in between your thighs, lapping hungrily at your drooling and overstimulated cunt. this was the third time he was making you cum and no he didn't care about the way you were tugging sharply on his hair or how you whined out that it was all "too much," because you should've thought about that when he warned you the first time.

"mmh ohh fuck..!" you cried out, your voice trembling and legs threatening to close around josh's head, but his hands are moving to firmly grip your thighs, forcing them to stay open. he was purposely ignoring your cries of his name, his tongue flicking your puffy clit, humming in amusement at the way you babble out incoherent sentences.

you're moaning and drooling and josh loves how obedient you are when you're like this, how you're crying out strings of "..i'msorry-! promise i'll be good..!" and man he really wants to take your word for it, but he's gotten used to those empty promises, not even those pretty little tears could save you.

josh briefly pulls his head back, giving you false hope that he's finally giving you a break, only for him to spit directly on your clit before he's messily circling his tongue around the sensitive bud again, licking up his own saliva mixed with your arousal.

you're so out of it — eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling with the urge to cum again — you couldn't help the way you frantically started to buck your hips into his face until your cumming all over josh's mouth and chin.

"fuckfuckfuck- i'm cumming..!"

josh eagerly laps up your cum before pulling back and wiping his mouth, admiring his handiwork. he loved seeing you like this. whiny and so sensitive.. and completely not like your usual bratty self. he laughs softly to himself, impressed by how he's got you like a puddle just from eating you out, he could almost feel bad for you!

he brings his hand between your thighs to cup your overstimulated cunt, laughing when you're flinching at his touch and closing your legs around his hand. "keep 'em open, hon..." he warns softly, prying your legs back open with his free hand and pinning one of your thighs against the bed.

"mm-mm, no more..! too much.." you cry out, frustrated tears pricking the corner of your eyes that makes him fake a sympathetic pout.

"oh no.. oh no, no, no.." josh murmurs playfully, eyes softening at your vulnerable state as his fingers continue to caress your folds, coaxing moans and whines from your throat. he's so unserious, and it's absolutely infuriating. "don't tell me you're tapping out.."

and just when you think that he's finished having his fun with you, he's removing his hand — not giving you a second for a breather before he's bringing it down to land a sharp smack directly to your wet cunt, making you moan out in shock and instinctively shut your legs around his hand again.

josh tuts disapprovingly, firmly pulling your legs apart again, his amused eyes meeting your glossy ones. "close your legs again, and i'm tying you down next."

"mnh, josh—!"

"keep. them. open."

you're crying out loudly again, eyes screwing shut and body jolting softly as he continues to smack your sensitive and weeping pussy with every punctuated word.

it feels like it goes on for so long. you're trembling after each slap, struggling to be good and take what he's giving you, and josh just loved having you wrapped around his finger like this!

"that's it, sweetie... just a little more. i know you can take it." he coaxes with a few more teasing slaps before he's finally relenting and smoothing his hand over your sore skin.

by the end of it you're whimpering, chest heaving with relieved sighs as josh wipes away your stray tears. he coos at you in the most mocking way possible and gosh he just really didn't think that it was enough. he wanted to ruin you some more.

"are you gonna be good now?" josh asked, that stupid sarcasm still laced in his voice.

"m..mhm!" you frantically nod, hiccuping and whining out soft pleas as josh's gaze flicker over your tear-stained face. he stays silent for a moment, his fingers continuing to massage over your stinging and puffy folds that has you letting out soft whines. he's teasing you, letting the silence stretch for a moment longer before finally letting out a playful 'nah.'

"i don't think you're telling me the truth, hon!"

josh is nowhere near done with you! not even after hearing those soft and broken cries. if you could be bratty even after he warned you to behave, then you can handle what he gives you.

[marisol-000]

Speaking to you from inside your mind

Alrighty!!! I promised and now I'm delivering! The oneshot for the Tgs Hearing Aid au! This'll be a bit odd since I have no idea how to write people with hearing aids but if I don't start I never will so here goes

Shoutout to @lillibethnougatesquirethe3rd, @basilthesnakingthing, @mistakes-have-been-made, and @littletownman who helped make this au with me!!!!

[a03]

It was an ordinary day like any other when Jekyll heard something. Which wasn't too unusual, he often heard things. Most everyday in fact, big fan of it that man. But today he heard something odd.

A small shifting, like fabric or long hair, something soft. He doesn't think much of it, almost tuning it out entirely. On a busy campus like this there could be a marching band made entirely of trumpets and it wouldn't be worth looking up for. So he didn't even consider looking around the classroom when all the notes and textbooks he could ever need were right in front of him.

Until it happened again. More shifting, someone shuffling around. It sounded louder, like they were getting closer to him. But that doesn't make sense, there was no one near him.

In fact, there was no one in the room with him at all.

Jekyll had stayed after class to finish up his notes and was clearly the only person there. Finally peeking his head out of his book he eyed the room with confusion…yup. Just him. The classroom was large but it was no auditorium, just a few rows of chairs with hardwood tables, nowhere for anyone to hide. He was sitting in the front row, as close to the teachers desk as he could, with the door across from him. He was probably just hearing someone in the hall or next room over. Sure it was late and most everyone had left campus already, but he was still there. Though he'd probably have to hurry to avoid getting locked in, again.

He had almost managed to convince himself it was nothing when he heard a new noise. Clinking, like small bells or bracelets. Jekyll looked again, bewildered. Okay there was nothing in here that would make those noises, there's nothing even moving near him. What was going on?

“Alright try it again.”

He jumped. The voice was right. in. his. ear.

A low mumbling.

“You're going to parr-e later?”

For a moment he sat shocked, looking around with wide eyes. There's no one around him, certainly not close enough to be speaking right in his ears. Feeling a bit silly, he tentatively called out.

“Er, hello?”

He heard a yelp and startled curses. This wasn't making sense he could hear the voice right in his ears. Was he over the speaker system maybe? Or- or-

“Who said that?! I'll fuck you up you fucking…fucker!”

There it was, a voice as clear and loud as his own. It was a man's voice, he couldn't tell the age. And scratchy. He spoke with an exaggerated cockney accent, though Jekyll couldn't tell what was under it.

“Not you i'm talking to whoever's prankin me right now. Where are you you prick!?”

Oh right, that's him.

“I'm right here.” Jekyll said, pushing his chair back and standing, “Where are you?”

He could hear the shuffling of footsteps near him, like the person was wandering around looking for him.

“Well? Come out then!”

Jekyll tried to get over his surprise and think logically about this. How do you hear someone who's not in the same room as you? You call them. And if you want to hear them directly in your ears? You connect to your headphones.

As a child Henry Jekyll had a… certain hobby that led to a series of infections. He was fine for the most part but a particularly bad ear infection resulted in loss of hearing; and he'd eventually had to get hearing aids. He'd had them for so long he didn't even think about them when he heard the man's voice. Most days he forgot about them entirely after putting them on in the morning. The man must have connected to them somehow and was ‘on call’ with Jekyll.

“Excuse me. Er, hello?” “Man I cannot be hallucinating again last time it was- yeah you remember- with the eyes and junk-”

The other man was still talking, rambling really, with the occasional swear thrown in for good measure. Whoever this was was getting old quick. Jekyll cleared his throat impatiently.

“A-hem! Right, so I believe l know what's going on here. Our headphones got connected.”

There was quiet on the other end, whatever gesture or expression the other man was making was lost on Jekyll, who continued.

“I think when you turned your headphones on they accidentally connected to mine instead of your laptop or phone or whatever. So if you could just… disconnect your bluetooth device for a moment?”

“Hey!” he snapped, “My 'bluetooth device’ is my fucking hearing aids asshole!”

Jekyll blinked. Wait. This man also had hearing aids? What were the odds? Probably pretty high actually they must be on the same system.

That didn't explain why they were hearing each other now though. He certainly hadn't paired them together, maybe the man's headset had linked to the nearest thing like it? Or a bug from a new update he hadn't checked?

“Huh…my bluetooth device are my aids. They must have connected somehow…”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, “Wait really? Huh… What kind do you have?”

“HJ7.”

“Same.”

Well that increased the odds of a system error rather than blind luck(deaf luck?). Jekyll didn't exactly run into people like himself all that often, it was likely he simply hadn't been close enough to someone else's aids to run into a problem like this before.

“Right well, I'm in room 208 right now so if you come here we can try to figure this out.”

“What? Room 20- where the hell are you i'm not even in a building right now you git!”

Jekyll grit his teeth, god he just wanted to finish his notes and go home already. The man's voice was starting to give him a headache.

“I'm in the Rose building, room 208. If you use the front door and take the stairs on the left it's on the right side of the hallway.

“…wait. The Rose building? You're at that fancy ass college? Right now?”

“Yes. Upstairs on the right so if you could just come upstairs then we can sort this all out.”

“Well I can't fucking do that can I! I'm at The Copper Cog!”

Jekyll paused. The copper cog? The penny university next to that courtyard? That was all the way across town! What was going on?

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I don't have an ask but I have a vibe

"My spine is screaming and the next person to ask me a question is gonna-"

"What do you want for dinner, Angel baby?" Wade asked hanging over the back of the couch, wincing slightly when you made a frustrated noise he could only describe as a muted scream- the dulcet sound of a bunny being strangled. "Yeesh-"

"I'm not thinking. I'm not doing. I am not accepting questions or critiques of any kind until I have had a hot bath and at least one glass of wine."

Wade flipped himself upright and crossed the floor, taking your bag off your shoulder and stealing a kiss, "Normally, I'd fully support you drinking a bottle and going to bed but- pretty sure you can't drink on your new meds."

"Wade."

"We were all in that Doctor's appointment beautiful," he said, tweaking your nose. "You've got spine damage and you already don't-"

"I never have- like ever," you sigh. "This isn't new. None of this is new. Born broken, remember?"

"You're not broken-"

"I have x-rays that say otherwise," you hum, smiling a little. "But fine. If you wanna be my nanny I'll just take a bath." You pat his chest and tilt your head to pop your neck, trying to alleviate some of the discomfort.

"I can help-"

"You don't get to be a mother hen and then try to see me naked babe, Freud doesn't have a place in my bedroom," you kiss his cheek and walk towards the bathroom.

"I'm telling-"

"Logan would have handed me the glass of wine in the bath and we both know it," you call over your shoulder. "If he gets home before I'm out kiss him for me."

_____________

Logan let himself into the apartment and frowned when he found Wade frantically typing on his phone and going through your pill bottles, "What's going-"

"Trying to see if these meds cause mood swings," Wade pouted, "my sweet little angel baby is all snarly today."

He snorted and helped himself to a beer, wrenching the top off, "No shit?"

"Peanut-"

"Listen, Mouth," Logan said, "if she's awake she's in pain and the only way she can sleep is to take pills that knock her the fuck out- she can't fuck, walk, or even drive like she wants so... yeah. She's probably a little inclined to be pissy."

"Surprisingly insightful Logi-bear," Wade groused, "guess I shoulda just gave her the wine-"

"I woulda," Logan shrugged. "It's not like someone's not here to watch her."

Wade frowned and reached back to pick up the wine bottle on the counter, "One sweet white with ice cubes I guess."

"Smart man." Logan nodded, "Just hand it to her and ask her if she wants some popcorn or something-"

"Alcohol AND a snack. Damn it, why didn't I think of that?"

"Works for just about anybody," he said taking a drink of his beer. "Short of fucking her brains out-"

"Which she desperately needs-"

"Tell me about it," you grumble, toweling your hair. "I'm gonna end up a born-again virgin-"

"That'll never happen, Princess," Logan chuckled, pulling you closer to kiss you hello. "We wouldn't let it."

"And aside from that," Wade said putting ice in a wine glass, "after taking Logan's cock that hymen is NEVER coming back."

[candyskiez]

jon was the last human being elias ever saw. the last human being he ever talked to. the last human being he ever touched. hes been inside the heads of everyone in the world but jon was the last person he ever saw. and maybe the only person he ever truly saw. anyway hi how are you

Saros I need you to understand I made a Noise at this ask that made my cat run over to check on me. Which i think is maybe a little predictable of me.

I am also thinking about this in the context of how Jonah said that realizing his own selfishness was an awful thing to know, but also incredibly freeing. Thinking about how he again said Jons attempt, that was completely unsuccessful!!!, was nice! It was freeing! He enjoyed it!! Thinks about how Jonahs fear was of losing control, of his chance of survival and safety being taken away. He enjoys being known! He enjoys being understood by someone he thinks deserves it. He likes the idea of being known, of someone realizing that yes, he is a bad person, and seeing beauty in it. He likes the idea of it.

Thinks about how he viewed Jon as...not a companion, but as his in some way. Thinks about how he is completely sure that he understands Jon. Thinks about the way he knows about all of Jons deepest traumas and insecurities, knows exactly what to say to hurt him. Thinks about "I knew it had to be you." Thinks about, again "the freedom of it all." The freedom of it all!

Thinks about how Jonahs response to Jon saying he failed was just "Have i?" Thinks about how Jon tells him he's going to end the world and kill everyone and starving all the fears to death, he just says "That WE serve." Jon just told him he's going to undo everything he ever worked for but he refuses to let Jon think, for even a second, that they aren't the same. Because whether Jon likes it or not, Jonah is maybe the only person at the time who could possibly understand why Jon is doing this. Who could possibly understand every single reason. He already knows why Jon is doing this. He already knows everything that's led up to this point. And if jons going to do it, he knows he can't stop him. That's what scares him. But he won't let Jon pretend.

Thinks about how this is the first and last time we hear Jonah be afraid. Thinks about how Jonah is scared shitless, begging for his life against the person he happily destroyed the life of, and he knows he's fucked! But he doesn't want to die! And he sees the anger and fear and desperation and want of a man he ruined, of a man he made into something he views as beautiful, and it's the last thing he sees!!! Do you think he thought it was beautiful. Do you think he saw himself. Do you think in that moment he thinks, maybe he loves this man. Do you ever think about the fear and then acceptance, that he can't run forever. He's done. There's nothing he ever could've done. But he made something incredible, and nobody will ever be able to ignore the horrible, wonderful mark he left on the world. His last words were wishing him good luck! It's insane! Not "you're no better than me" or calling him a monster or anything. Just. Good luck. Good luck. It's insane. What the hell. I need to analyze it. What do you MEAN good luck.

Jon is the one person he could truly view as anything close to Part of what he was doing or what he wanted, and it didn't save Jon. It actively ruined his life. Do you think Jon saw Jonah gazing up at him with affection mixed in with horror as he died. Do you think it haunts him if/when he escapes somewhere else. I think it haunts him. I think he never manages to forget it. I think sometimes he looks at himself and understands why Jonah was so fond of him. I think that scares him more than he'll ever be able to explain. I think it's the one thing he'll never tell anyone he'll meet. I think Jonah ended with Jon, and Jon carried him with him for the rest of his life, and he wishes he didn't. I think Jonah would like that. I think Jon knows that, and he hates that too. (I think Jon wonders, would Jonah have even remembered him? If the roles had been reversed?) (I think he knows the answer.)

Anyways my days been great how's yours.

[swiftfootedachilles]

honestly i was so mad when i watched that orgy scene in s11 and at the whole monogamy situation bc wdym they're not already monogamous without having to talk about it? as if they're not borderline obsessed with each other and also jealous asf and they constantly was being pulled apart from each other through the whole show, how can ian or mickey want somebody else after all shit they went through? i just hope that they didn't actually fuck anyone and just banged in the bathroom or smth😭also when i see fics with gallavich/omc? 💀 saw this from a popular writer and i was like hell nah im not reading ts

no for fucking real those 2 are the most jealous men to ever walk the planet

on one hand i get it. they both had insecurities that made them feel like the other wouldnt want to only sleep with them for the rest of their lives. ian is the only guy mickey canonically dates and has sex with multiple times. mickey felt like ian would eventually leave him like he had in the past also multiple times.

so in the first episode the monagamy conversation seemed normal to me. they literally both specifically say "i dont want you to fuck anyone else" and mickey was obviously just waiting to see ians answer because he wanted to do whatever ian wanted. if he did write down "open relationship," it wouldve been because he thought thats what ian wanted. personally i think he didnt write anything down because he was still trying to grasp the concept of him and ian being a "normal" married couple that communicated heathily and didnt run away and flirt with/fuck other people when they got scared.... plus he actually cant spell monogamy hes a dyslexic with an 8th grade education

so that episode was fine on its own. if they wouldve left it at that, it wouldve been a silly cute moment in their bumpy marriage. but then the writers had to make that stupid ass orgy episode. first of all why the shit would they NEED to be friends with other gay men, and WHY ARE THE ONLY OPTIONS TO EITHER BE THEIR FRIENDS OR FUCK THEM??? IT LITERALLY MAKES NO SENSE. DID THEY NOT JUST DECIDE IN EPISODE ONE THAT THEY WERE GONNA BE MONOGAMOUS?

i actually cannot stand how the writers (and the fandom by extension) cant let gay characters have their boundaries and be left alone. why the fuck do they have to be open to straight sex and orgies and nonmonogamy and being verse WHY CANT GAY PEOPLE HAVE BOUNDARIES. CAN YOU IMAGINE IF THERE WAS RANDOMLY A SCENE IN SEASON 11 WHERE TAMI ASKED LIP 'HOW DO YOU KNOW YOURE STRAIGHT IF YOUVE NEVER GOT FUCKED IN THE ASS BY A GUY?' AND THEN HE ACTUALLY WENT OUT AND DID IT??? YOU CANT IMAGINE IT BECAUSE IT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN THEY ONLY DO THIS SHIT WITH GAY CHARACTERS!!!!

the inability to understand that gay people can also have preferences and hard limits actually blows my mind. and if you dont like it youre somehow a prude or dont understand the characters. actually i fear i understand the characters more than the writers do.

and im okay with showing characters experiment! but its very telling that in Shameless, it only happens with queer characters who are pretty fucking firm in their sexual identity and boundaries. why did debbie have to fuck a gay guy in season 11. why do ian and mickey have to be verse why do ian and mickey have to be polyamorous. why did ian have to fuck a woman to "truly know" hes gay. why did svetlana have to all but announce shes a lesbian but still date kev instead of just date vee. why does this only happen to gay characters!!!

the trope of queer men specifically being easy and dtf is why the AIDS crisis was so deadly. because queer men are so open to sharing sex fantasies and sharing partners and sharing needles, right? its just a gay problem, and its better for all of us if theyre dead anyway, so lets ignore it until it goes away

maybe not every queer man needs to be written as a polyamorous verse switch bisexual-under-the-right-circumstances only-married-for-tax-reasons-not-because-they-love-their-life-partner idk! this is a haters only area so if you dont like me hating why are you here⁉️

[lets-try-to-be-normal-otakus]

"Jesus h. Christ, you would make such a good housewife wouldn't you? I bet I could just come home after work and-"

Steve removes his legs from around Eddie's waist and abruptly pushes the other man off of him, fighting the grunt of pain from the alpha's dick sliding out so quickly as much as the hurt of his words. Eddie tumbles off the bed with a flail of gangly limbs as Steve rolls to his side and starts looking for his pants.

"Wh- what??!" Steve didn't spare him a glance, just kept rummaging around for his jeans.

"I thought you were different-" he said as he finally found his clothes and started putting them back on.

"I don't-"

Steve whirls around as soon as the waistband is over his hips. "I thought you were fucking different. Preaching about saying fuck you to society's expectations."

Fuck, there was the sting of tears behind his eyes. He actually thought... "But here you are spouting-" he whips his button-up off the ground and starts putting it on. Eddie's mouth was open, doe brown eyes huge as he looks up at him from the floor. "-the same inane shit as those jocks you love to hate. I can't believe I thought-" he cuts himself off and busies his hands with the buttons, mad at Eddie, and even more mad at himself. How could he expect anything else from an alpha? Turns out they're all knotheads after all.

"Wait, what-"

"Save it. I don't wanna hear it." He paused buttoning his shirt to pinch the bridge of his nose. Don't cry, don't cry, don't give him the satisfaction of hurting you.

"No, I-"

"I said save it!" Steve snapped, breaking into an omegean growl, voice rumbling with the thunder of a pissed off omega. Voices like these were normally reserved for those hurting someone's pack or pups, and it shocked Steve to silence for a moment.

It worked as intended though, and Eddie turned paler, eyes growing wider in turmoil. "I don't- I didn't mean-!"

"Mean what? Mean to say that I'm not good for anything other than a knot-hole? Did you ever, ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe- I would ever-" he paused. "Am I just some pretty omega that needs taming so you can bend them into a skirt? Am I even a guy to you?" His voice did not break it did not.

Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe all he is is bullshit.

"No, I-"

Steve resumed buttoning his shirt with a hurried hand, cursing internally as they shook. Eddie seemed to get the memo and frantically looked around for some kind of bottom while trying to stand up. Fat chance of them continuing.

"I'm so sick, and tired of everyone's bullsh-" he cut himself off with a grimace.

"Look, whatever it is you think I think of you, it's-"

"Like what? It's not what you meant? That not all omegas want to be forced into a skirt and made to be barefoot and pregnant for their alpha?" He ignored the fact that he already had a gang of pups, and he reluctantly let them call him 'mom'.

"No- I mean, yes? I just-"

"Shut it. You knotheads are all alike. I swear- Jeff was wrong about you."

"J- what does he have to do with it??"

Steve whirled around and used his finger to punctuate his words, "Your friend said that you were different, that you were kind and sweet and caring." Steve was getting closer, and his finger was dangerously close to Eddie's chest. He could feel the heat coming off the alpha. "That it didn't matter I was a guy and omegean. He said-" Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Nevermind; it doesn't matter what he said cause he was wrong. God, you're such a fucking asshole."

With that, Steve turned around and stormed out of Eddie's bedroom. He could see the other man squawk and fumble with the clothing in his hand.

"I'm not-" Eddie called out, "Well, maybe I did but-"

Steve slammed the front door open. Dramatic? Maybe. But man he was pissed as hell and it felt good to hear the 'bang!' of the door hitting the side of the trailer. He spotted Max across the lot and cursed his luck. Of course she had to see that.

He must've paused, because suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, and he didn't even think before his body reacted. The growl that ripped from his throat could be heard just as much as the gnash of his teeth coming down in a hard bite.

His face must've been something fierce, and he watched as Eddie tumbled backward clad only in a pair of plaid boxers. Steve's plaid boxers. Fuck. He must not have grabbed them in his rush. Eddie clutched his wrist when his scrambling body found its balance.

"Don't ever talk to me again - I don't want to hear or see your ignorant ass ever again." He growled. Eddie did have a cute ass. Tiny, but cute. "Rot in hell, Eddie Munson.

He turned around before his brain could recognize the look of tears starting to form and stormed to his car. He hit the gas in reverse and entertained the idea of hitting the prone alpha. No, he couldn't protect the kids in jail. As he sped off, he made eye contact with Max and saw her face morph into something scary. He was raising that alpha right.

If he had stopped to look, he would've seen Max marching over to Eddie in the review mirror.

omega steve who hates all the feminization surrounding male omegas. no, he doesn't want to wear dresses or skirts, he doesn't want his hair long and feminine, and he's going to punch the next asshole who says they'll make a "good housewife" out of him. he's a man, designation be damned, and he wants to be treated like one.

so when he hooks up with alpha eddie for the first time and he starts spouting the same bullshit as every other small minded idiot, steve hisses and pushes eddie off of him and immediately goes on a rant that's fueled by years long frustration.

poor eddie, who's never been with *any* omega before this, is at a loss.

[tigirl-and-co]

Bc my phone wasn't working i couldn't listen to music on the drive to work. I ended up just LOUDLY yapping to myself about how god damned batshit legosi's family is for the full ride

[seventh-district]

Sam: "Look at me. Hey- look at me a second. I know. I know you're tough. I know how strong you are. You have every right to be proud of that. But being able to handle somethin' doesn't mean you should have to. Least of all when I'm right here trying to help. Please let me help. If not for you then for me, because I don't like knowin' you're hurtin', especially when there's somethin' I can do about it."

Me, shaking my head, fighting back literal tears: "B-but it's gonna give you another headache!"

[damnbluewires]

She set up her instruments for a routine autopsy, and realized she has run out of gloves. Having no one else in the facility to fetch them for her, she headed out to the supply closet down the corridor. The lights were muted, but she liked it that way, being used to stay overtime. The work was indeed grueling and demanding, but this, staying this late, was out of her own volition. Not to be a walking stereotype, but she much preferred the company of the cold, dead cadavers to the company of her cold, and emotionally as good as dead coworkers.

Not mentioning, that the cadavers were far better conversationalists as well.

She didn't choose the profession because of her gift, it was more like the gift chose her because of her profession. Yeah, that didn't make sense to her either.

All she knew is that one day she was opening up some old man's chest cavity to investigate the potential cause of death, and the bastard started hitting on her.

She had nerves of steel, never even as much as grimaced during all of her training, despite how bad the smell was, but this, she must admit, made her yelp and stumble onto her metal tray. She eventually was just glad nobody was there to make fun of her. Apart from the man with a scalpel still poking out of his ribs.

She learned that day, that sometimes she can see the corpses rise from the dead, for exactly ten minutes, before collapsing back, that time for good. What surprised her more, was that most of the people who were brought to her morgue were already more or less prepared to die, so they were just glad to have one last opportunity to have a chat with her.

She adjusted to that new aspect of her job rather quickly, never once thinking of quitting. She would stitch some poor sod's guts back into their body, while talking to the other next in line, about nothing in particular. She would listen to odd stories, treasured memories, and what it felt like to die. It was rather nice, all things considered.

She mused on that, as she grabbed a new box of gloves from the supply and headed back.

The one she had today was some bloke they found in the alley in a pool of blood. What was odd, is that he had no injuries on him. She would have to ask about that.

She put the gloves on, rechecked the instruments, took a scalpel, and started to feel for the right muscle to open the chest from, with practiced grace. When she found the right spot, she began the incision, and heard an inquisitive and amused: "Not even going to buy me a drink first?"

"I don't drink, thanks. Half a year sober." She answered, unfazed as ever. She wanted to continue the cut, but realized it's probably impolite to do so, and raised her eyes at the man, who was dead silent.

He was quiet for a while, and then uncertainly mumbled: "…Congratulations?"

She smiled at him, "Thanks! It has been hard to resist drinking something you know you shouldn't, but it just felt so damn good. You know?"

"I might be aware of the feeling, yes… But, hold on, why am I the stunned one? Why are you not running away, screaming?"

"And miss all the fun? Plus, that honestly sounds exhausting, and I have some more people after you, so I'd rather not waste that energy." She rationalized, while the man tried to collect himself. What the fuck?

"Right. Because the corpses coming to life is just another Tuesday for you."

"It's Wednesday, actually," she beamed again. "But, yeah! Pretty much." Is this hell? Was he finally in hell?

"Are you a demon of some sort?" There was no other explanation.

"Aw, flattery? And who was asking about a drink first?" Yeah. Hell. Most definitely.

"But, no, just your average clerk. Say, how did you end up in that alley? I've been dying to know." That's it. He had to get out of there.

"I have to get out of here."

"Oh, no, you don't. I don't need another runner, thank you very much."

He swooped off the metal bed and bolted to the door. Which was locked.

"Look, I know you are confused, I shouldn't have started with the jokes, but I really need you to go back to the bed. You will collapse somewhere on the street in less than ten minutes, and I really don't need another cop on my ass."

He paused his attempts to get the door open. "You have a cop on your ass?"

"Had one in my ass also, but that was long ago."

He slowly turned at that, and stared at the mortician, who was still just sitting idly on her stool with an innocent smile.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you will be dead again soon, and won't be able to tell anyone."

"I have been dead for a while now."

"Oh, really? Would love to know about that, if you come back and sit down. I'd offer you a coffee, but I will have to be the one to clean up the mess later, and I would honestly rather not."

He did come and sat back down.

"I don't drink coffee anyway." He said, almost to himself.

"What do you usually drink then?"

"Blood of my enemies."

"Ha! And i thought i was the one with dark jokes around here." He didn't say anything to that.

"So, back to my original question, what were you doing in that alley?"

"Drinking the blood of my enemies." He said deadpan.

"I complimented you way too soon, that joke was only funny the first time." She said, and he swears, she almost sounded disappointed. He should not care. He really shouldn't. But…

"You should try it. Tastes better than any alcohol in the world."

"It does sound good, I can't lie. But I bet Becky's blood will be gross no matter how much I hate her. She's on that new 'raw meat' diet. She adds butter to her coffee!" She made a disgusted noise and a face, and his head spinned a little. Must be from the disgust as well. Must be…

"I can understand raw meat, but butter in coffee? Really? Some people just do not care about what they consume, I swear to g-" The word stuck in his throat. He forgot for a second he couldn't say it. But the mortician seemed to not catch that.

"I know, right! But I do prefer my meat cooked. I honestly don't know how I'm not a vegetarian yet. The sight of blood doesn't make me hungry at all."

He quirked his brow at that, "Not even a little bit?"

"Not in the least. Just reminds me of my job. I do love my job, though, comes with its perks."

"Like what?"

"Like talking to you."

She smiled at him yet again, and something warmed inside the place where his heart used to be. But her smile vanished, as she raised her arm to check the clock. The ten minutes must be coming to the end, and she was dreading being in silence again. Alone. Always alone in the end. Only these rare moments of genuinely nice company is all she ha-. She froze. Twelve full minutes have passed.

It was the man's turn to smile at her confusion.

"What's wrong, doc? Forgot to put in the time of death?" He seemed to be amused all over again. "You are a bit too late for that. About two centuries too late."

She looked up at him, for once lost for words.

"I told you I was dead for a while now."

"So, in the alley…"

"Yes, I was actually drinking the blood of my enemies. And it did have a strange aftertaste. Maybe that horrid diet trend is spreading." He mused.

"You are not a ghost?"

"Ghost?! I am deeply wounded by that assumption. I am something much better than a mere ghost." He lowered his voice seductively. "I am a vampire."

She blinked. "…Like in twilight?"

"Oh for fucks- Why is that the first thing people think about? There was not a single vampire in that whole production."

"There are vampires in movie production?"

"In good movie production - yes."

"I have so many questions."

"So how about that drink? Bubble tea sounds good? There is a good place just across the road, and it is still open, I know the owner. Meet you there in ten." And with that, he winked, transformed into a bat, and flew out the window.

She sat there for a while. And then snickered, starting to get ready.

"Curiouser and curiouser…"

okay I had a BRILLIANTLY UNHINGED story idea for someone to write

a mortician has the magical ability to speak with the dead so she doesn't realize anything is unusual when one of her corpses sits up and starts sassing her

only to discover that her conversationalist is actually a vampire

and said vampire very confused about why the mortician isn't freaking out, normally this prank gets 'em every time