#again hopefully not that bad. but fuck man. why's it always gotta be my shit.

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

broken pipe 🙃🙃

[lilowoof]

ngl gamers, I think I'm gonna inevitably lose to the hormones and depression in the near future XD

Can't bring myself to be active cause I'm using a lot of energy to not vent post all the time. But fuck it, into the tags I go!

[joltning]

@fishfingersalad it’s almost 2am but i can’t sleep and ts probably only going to be seen by like 5 people anyway so let it rip

this au started out as a self indulgent pocket sized au that I ignore as all my aus do…..then I couldn’t sleep and started imagining things im good at that. it started as an au I could do ship focus on and well I love lore I guess. despite all this the main story still focuses on my blorbos. maybe I will make a storyline for the main cast, if I can imagine things again

one day, all across (abridged) America (this is why I made that carolina/puerto rico/dc post btw), 50 children, each for 1 state, pop up at the same time, with varying ages, mostly tween years but with some variation up and down. while some are humanoid creatures, others are completely monstrous and lack sentience. however, they all share one common factor: a tag identifying what state they came from. The majority of the sentient ones assume this is their name, and that’s why they run with it.

conspiracy theorists and cryptid fans nationwide take notice of a bunch of shit happening overnight and develop “The 50” list. depending on if it’s commonly agreed upon what monster you are and if it’s commonly agreed upon what state you’re from, you’ll be ranked higher or lower on the list, with, of course, the highest ranking being the most sought after and hidden. Most of the higher tiered creatures are humanoid; it’s easier to blend in if you don’t look out of place

i forgot to mention Btw it’s like. myths and legends and shit too. i mentioned york being the pied Piper I also think the implication that the pied Piper is a monster is funny. also only one monster per person and

ofc my blorbos…….Everyone run now!!!! Ohio has just moved to a new city yay go girl But her coworkers are fucked up!!! There’s this bitch Sherry that she may or may not have a crush on and like her two little friends who absolutely know that. but Watch out there’s a freaky green man It’s Georgia her old friend Georgia. they were their first freelancer friends but geo Loves making deals for souls slash servitude slash their power slash take over the world slash he doesn’t know what souls are and neither do I. but they gotta be normal and not fight in the office.!!! And fight outside of a Walmart at 2 instead. he’s kinda bad at it though which is why only Ohio cares.

anywya Sherry keeps running into Ohio and Georgia fighting and you know Ohio’s kind of like. well if you see her when she’s not masking you’ll probably go insane huh. so Ohio has to keep wiping her memories and Sherry’s getting CRAZY deja vu.

this is so stressful Good thing Ohio’s got her trusty friends Iowa and Idaho!!! They’re causing chaos somewhere else but she’s always texting them and video chatting. hopefully they can meet up again soon!!

Utah is a paranormal investigator and currently georgia’s only the only person who’s currently made a deal with him. he’s made past deals but Ohio scared them off by ‘Do Not Be Afraid’ing them. it’s either that or they have to get killed lest the green fuck get too powerful and Ohio would rather not do that thanks. utah doesn’t even get anything in return he just wants to know wtf is going on tbh. Georgia stays at his apartment because he’s a squatter I guess

well That’s too bad I guess I can’t share any more because they’re just plotpoints. hey do you wanna know what the other freelancers are

Ohio: Angel (duh. So low because when she spawned she was literally in the middle of a bunch of people and blinded them with her corporeal form)

Georgia: Demon (the devil but literally this time. manages to be a little higher due to being able to teleport short distances. Stayed a little too close to home base, though.)

Iowa: Harpy (kept flying in the air like a dumbass everyone fucking saw him. denialists claim it to be a big bird. and they’re right.)

Idaho: Werewolf (he didn’t know until a full moon came out. oops.)

Carolina: Siren (keeps the bad singing voice.)

York: pied piper….

Wash: Shapeshifter

Florida: Alien (when he came on the fated day he rode in on a meteor instead of plopping in, breaking off the state from the rest of the US. its highly debated on whether or not the meteor itself was the creature.)

Maine: Bigfoot (but he shaves his whole body every day so he just looks like a big guy)

Connie: Kitsune

Wyoming: Fairy (despite being obvious, no one fuckinh lives in wyoming so he just flew far away immediately. fucks up the rankings of others by being spotted far away from his state.)

North: The Sandman (Both spawned across from eachother at the 2 state’s borders. They immediately declared eachother twins.)

South: Mare/Dream Eater (Their high ranking is very dependent on the confusion on which twin is which, since they work together to sleep and then feast.)

Tex: Ghost

you may see here I did not include Utah Did I forget No No No (kinda) I have an idea for what he is but i don’t intent to reveal it ever really. idk how id incorporate that. jsut know I searched really hard to find a creature that wasn’t a ghost that disrupted electromagnetic fields so that every time he went ghost hunting the machines would go off causing him to assert there was a ghost there. but no alas I did not find that

ok tahts it I think. for now. maybe. if you have any ideas for this background fucks wise or rnbs wise I would like them. for meThanks goodnight im gonna pass blout Out Out

[jacobsbigmelons]

Also...face sitting with jacob 🤭 like him whimpering and whining because readers tongue just feels so fucking good

Midnight fun

Jacob Custos x Male reader

cw: nsfw, face sitting, face riding, handjob, masturbation and my bad execution of these fics by always starting out in the cabins 💀

i love seeing jocks like jacob being the ones who are eaten out, go fuck a top rn

Jacob was scratching at his underwear as he was trying to get comfortable underneath his sheets, his crop top dangling off the side of the bed frame about to fall to the floor if he keeps moving around. Though the sound of a singular drop of liquid in the quiet cabin made him perk up for a split second before trying to get back to sleep.

You spat out a drop of saliva into your hand as you began to stroke your cock quickly trying to imagine any kind of explicit imagery in your brain though due to Mr.H taking all of the councilors phones you haven’t been able to get off as easily as you used to unless you spent some time with Jacob of course.

At this point Jacob was just staring up at the ceiling as the sounds of a sort of sloppy wet noise began to come from underneath him, he furrowed his brow as he felt his cheeks heat up a bit as the bulge in his pants only got bigger. He opened his mouth as if to speak. “Yo dude…are you…getting off right now?”

His voice caught you off guard and quite frankly kinda freaked you out as your heart raced a bit, eyebrows shot up just a second as your hard on began to go soft pretty quick. After all your friend…with benefits? just caught you going at it. “Shit- uh…my bad, look I can go somewhere else to finish.” You said with a quiver to your voice, looking up to the wooden boards holding up the mattress above you.

“Dude, I fucked you like not even a whole 24 hours ago. If you gotta bust do your thing man.” Jacob stated so nonchalantly but at the same time he did have a point, you guys fucked early in the morning so it shouldn’t be weird if you were to merely jerk off in his presence. “Could I ask a favor?” you said as Jacobs crop top finally made its way to the wooden floor.

“What’s up?” A curious tone laced Jacobs words as his mind was predicting the question might be related to helping you out somehow. “Could you come down? Maybe help me out a bit?” You shrugged slightly as if Jacob was able to see you despite not even being down there. Silence filled the room for a few seconds before the sound of Jacob getting up made the wooden boards holding his bed up squeak a bit as his foot made its way to the wooden ladder. You were pleased with the sight despite the lack of light available to you except for a few of the outside lights illuminating the place as well as the moonlight.

“Alright what’re we doing? Bj? Missionary? Sneaking out? Maybe 69’in-“ “Jacob!” Jacob quieted down as he heard you raise your voice despite you trying to call out to him about 3 other times but he just kept talking. “I was wondering…if we could do some face…riding…sitting? Face stuff let’s go with that.” You said questioning your request, hopefully Jacob was able to keep all that you said in that brawny noggin of his.

“Oh hell yeah dude, so what you sit on me and i just kinda eat you out or…?” He said as he took a seat next to you, his hand already rubbing your thigh as a way to get you hard again which was definitely working despite him not even knowing your soft. “About that…I wanted you to be the one on me.” You softly stated, bracing yourself for the possible rejection, you wouldn’t mind if you were the one being on top of him but you’ve had this on your mind for awhile so why not try it.

“O-oh…me? Uh…I mean, sure yeah let’s- let’s do it” Jacob was clearly nervous a bit, he scratched the back of his neck which definitely gave it away. “We don’t have to if-“ You were cut off by his hands yanking you by your waist just enough to get face to face with him as he kissed you very unprofessionally and may have accidentally dinked noses just a bit due to the lack of light but he had to make it known he didn’t mind.

“It’ll be new to me but that doesn’t mean we can’t try it” Jacob said with a playful tone, the light barely reflecting off the shine from his teeth. “Alright, nice um so just…” you laid onto your back once again as you maneuvered Jacob closer to you, his legs climbing onto your mattress as you felt him turn around, the sound of his boxers being pulled off. “Just go ahead and sit, this face is all yours.”

You said with a grin on your face as you backed Jacob more and more closer to you, he was definitely a bit hesitant as he was right in front of you, ass to face as you slowly pulled him down. He cooperated but you felt him shift some of the weight to his legs. “Why aren’t you putting all your weight on me?” You softly asked not to make him feel bad “I don’t wanna hurt you is all, I weigh a lot with all this muscle.” He giggled at the end as you shifted your face out from under him for just a second “I want you to put all that weight on me, I can take it. Trust” you said in a way Jacob could tell you were smiling despite not seeing you.

You repositioned yourself as you pulled him down slowly again as you felt a lot more weight be put atop of you as you made a satisfactory grunt, your tongue now rapidly moving around his hole and the area. Jacob cursed out quietly as the sudden pleasurable feeling surrounded his body and made him feel warm all around. He put one hand in between the crevice of the wood and mattress above him and the other on the wall next to you just to keep himself steady as you kept going.

Your arms wrapped around his waist as you practically had him held down on top of you as your tongue massaged around and inside his hole “mmmhmm” your muffled moans gave Jacob the slight reassurance he needed to know you enjoyed what you were doing. “Fffuck dude your tongue feels so good” Jacob heaved as his hand in the wooden crevice moved to your dick. You didn’t expect him to make a move like that which made you pause which in that case you decided to slightly push Jacob up a bit just to take a breath. “God your ass is amazing, you gotta let me play with it more” you said getting as much air as you could before putting him back down onto you.

Both of you were doing your own thing, it was hard to focus as you so badly wanted to thrust into Jacobs hand and it was hard for Jacob not to cum right then and there. You began to move his hips back and forth, your tongue slid around as his ass moved around your face, Jacobs quiet whimpers became more apparent the more you did that which only made you wanna go harder somehow. You added your teeth as you began to bite around his ass whether it be one of his cheeks or around the hole itself. A mix of slight pain and pleasure only made it better.

It was obvious you both were at the point of cumming, Jacob could only whine whenever you bit or licked and as he stroked you the more you moaned which only caused vibrations which made the feeling for him even better. You couldn’t stop especially when you moved him where your nose could actually receive air so you were on autopilot. You wanted him to do badly cum but at the same time you couldn’t help but feel a sense of domination over him since you were the one guiding him after all. You stopped moving him around as you stopping tongue fucking his hole which made him stop as well. “W-why…why’d you stop?!” His whiny tone was a tune to hear as his whimpers and whiny breaths made it clear he was desperate to finish, almost as if he was right there. “Cmon babe please? I was just about to blow my load…” Jacob whined out as he creased his lips, the small giggle you let out not helping the situation.

“Say it again.” You stated, “oh my fucking god…please please please just- just keep going dude.” Jacob pleaded, if he could he would probably even get on his knees and beg and as hot as a sight like that would be you also were super close to finishing so you might as well humor him and totally not continue to finish yourself off too. You wrapped your arms once again around his waist as you pushed him down onto you as your tongue felt even more euphoric than before.

“Ohh-ho-hah..ho oh my fucking god for fucks sake i’m- oh fuck i’m gonna fucking cum-!“ Jacob moved his left hand from the wall onto his cock as he jerked it just as quick as he was with yours in his right hand. “mmM- fffkkk!” You moaned as loud as you could though Jacobs ass practically muffled it as you felt yourself nut which shot all across your stomach and a bit on Jacobs thighs. Though that didn’t stop you from going on his ass with what energy you got left, your nails now gripping sharply into his torso area as you moved your head quicker and quicker until Jacob was a moaning and utter mess and you felt like you were gonna crash.

“Jesusdude i-im fucking sensitive- a-oh-ho-hhh” Jacob ended his sentence with a long breath of pleasure as you finally nudged him off of you as he made his way to the edge of the bed, heavy breathing following as you sat up next to him copying his breathing. “W-was that okay?” you said, sweat now covering your top half as the moonlight reflected a lot more of that. “That was fucking awesome babe, shouldn’t have doubted your…well experienced tongue” Jacob took a second to think of what to say as he picked his boxers up again, as you stood up to put yours back on as well.

Jacob sat back down as you did the same, his arms wrapping themselves around your neck as you two kissed for what felt like a small infinity. Though Jacob pulling away only to climb back onto his bed gave you both the opportunity to think about what tomorrow has in store for you both.

[archivalofsins]

Milgram Characters as The Lonely Island songs

This is The Lonely Island literally every song here is explicit and contains toilet humor. These songs are from the 2010s this is the only warning I'm giving.

Haruka and Kotoko- Shy Ronnie

"*mumbling* Speak up! Shy Ronnie, speak up! *mumbling* Okay, I'll take it from here. HA-HA! Okay." "HA-HA! Names Shy Ronnie and I'm running this shit- You know I stay steady strapping cause life is a bitch- Hey- *mumbling* I forgot my purse buh-bye again."

20/05/27

Haruka: Haa…… haa……Haa…… Ah…… Um…… Ko-Koto-Kotokotoko-san…… Kotoko: ……what? Haruka: Eek…… eh, um……! I-I! I’m sorry! ……I-I’ll see you later……! Kotoko: ……what was that about? This is the third time. Mikoto: Oh~ Koto-chan, you’re here. The guard was complaining earlier that you never answered their call. Kotoko: Huh? ……I never heard about anything like… Haruka……!?

Yuno- Hugs "You think we're an item just because I gave you a hug- Trick you better think again." "I don't love 'em end of the fucking discussion." "So, don't catch feelings it ain't love."

"“Poor naïve little girl”? So off the mark, what’s it to you? It’s just absurd."

"Like really, who do you think you are?"

Futa- Threw It On The Ground

"You must think I'm a joke. I ain't gonna be part of your system." - "I don't need your handouts! I'm an adult! Please, you can't buy me!"- "Welcome to the real world jackass."

"Bust out, explode that counter uppercut!" - "The fight’s up here! Come up to the ring and face me!"

"It’s not even my fault, not even slightly."

Mu: I'm So Humble

"I've got it all and I'm getting more but I never fall. Beat 'em all. Cause you know I'm so humble." - "The thing about me that's so impressive is how infrequently I mention all of my successes." "My bellies full from all the pride I swallow."

"I told you I’m queen, and it’s always the same. God gave me everything, everything is as I wish."

"Take more and more (honey) and devote to me."

Shidou: YOLO You Oughta Look Out. "This life is a precious gift. So, don't get too crazy it's not worth the risk. You know that we are still young. So don't be dumb. Don't trust anyone cause you only live once."

(This is for the bit. I'm not even going to try to defend this. Though warning this song could exacerbate paranoia. In the same way dumb ways to die can. Also has some body horror in it.)

"Those cards of promise I discarded, they were retribution for my incessant taking- In that case, give me the chance to make amends. To extract that fang, now."

Gotta childproof another house now. Hopefully this time he does it better.

"So this is unpleasant, so this makes me sick What do you mean INNOCENT, if this is my punishment. Now I see, this world is cruel and merciless. I want to be INNOCENT, I want to live."

Man uses reverse psychology at the most inopportune time. Side note Shidou, Kazui and Mikoto- Diaper Money.

Mahiru and Kazui: The Creep

"When you're out at a club and you see a fly girl do the creep. And if you want to make friends at the atm do the creep."

(This is self-explanatory but also me being petty that Mahiru got the creepy allegations and Kazui does about the same shit she does. So I threw him in here too.)

"My love, it scored an own goal, destroyed my love and me with its weight. Tell me, oh tell me why, can’t I just do it right?"

Kazui: 3-Way (The Golden Rule) "Hey boy's I want you both. I hope that you think that's cool- I know most guys won't freak together. But she forgot about the golden rule; it's okay when it's in a three way. It's not gay when it's in a three way. With a honey in the middle there's some leeway." "The areas grey in a one, two, three way." "Here in the dark (here in the dark) it's hard to tell (so hard to tell)- where her body ends (lala) and my homies begins."

"The beating of this heart... see... it’s no longer about good and bad... it isn’t."

"I just wanted to ask, so it’s out in the open. I just got a little greedy."

"I wanted to be loved, just like a cat. Maybe act capricious, on my word and at my fancy."

Amane: "F**k Off" "Fuck off, cause I might be young but I'll dig your grave 'til the job is done. So, fuck off- I'm gonna live forever!" "Cause you're not my dad so shut the fuck up and wipe my ass."

"The “It can’t be helped”, from the scum that can’t be helped. That makes them doubtlessly, clearly, absolutely, unequivocally, beyond any doubt, categorically, emphatically, GUILTY!"

"You’re sorry? I don’t care! Please, go ahead and die already."

Mikoto: Just 2 Guyz "We're just two guys who are having a good time." "Having fun guy one? The most fun in the world." (gets increasingly more ominous and no one sounds like they're having a good time. I feel like this one is self explanatory.)

[k8fics]

Ruined Legacy

My Way to Freedom

summary: Based off “My Way” by Frank Sinatra; Joel & Ellie find a curled up woman in a farmhouse with a freshly dead guy outside — Episode 1 of the ‘Ruined Tragedy’

rating: R - just reader’s backstory & character building (my bad), some joel splattered in there tho, she cannot catch a break, abusive/toxic relationship (not joel), murder, brutally killings, dead parents, captivity (kinda? idk man), thoughts of suicide, cussing, hopefully that’s all

And now the end is near

And so I face the final curtain

I still remember how my mother woke me up that night; tears streamed down her face, and her entire body shook. How she frantically grabbed my hand, pulled me towards the basement door, sat me down on the cold ground, and told me to wait down there while she received a call for help from my father.

I still remember how I stared at the small window, covered by the dusty curtain. How the lights from the outside world showed through the glass, the orange hues, the flashes of car lights, the shadows of people’s feet running away.

I still remember waking up down there. This time, my parents were with me, arguing over each other. My mother paced with her arms flailing out, my father leaning on the concrete wall with his arms crossed.

“We can’t just leave! You heard the TV, we’re instructed to stay inside!” She yelled.

“And you saw what’s out there. We have to get out of here, who knows if they’ll start bombing again.” He said calmly. She only sighed in response, stopping and looking directly at me.

I stayed silent, still acting like I’m asleep. But she could tell I was awake. Mom always could tell. She walked over to me, with a smile. Although, the smile was fake. I could tell she was scared.

She put her hands on my face, I leaned into her. “Hey, baby... We gotta go, let’s start packing.” She said, pulling me up.

As I walked to my room, and she walked to hers, I looked out the window. Your neighbor’s house still burning from the night before, the ground covered in blood and ash. The world has gone to complete shit.

My friend, I’ll say it clear

I’ll state my chase of which I’m certain

“Who the fuck are you?”

Your thoughts were interrupted by a gravelly voice. You looked up to see a girl and a man. You glanced around to see you were in the same room you had been stewing in for the past day.

You opened your mouth to speak, lips cracked from the lack of moisture. “..I stay here.” You stated, not in the most cohesive terms though.

The man still had his gun pointed at you, looking at you and then at your surroundings. “So why is there a freshly dead guy on your porch?” It was like he was a detective investigating you. Although, a detective’s attitude would be less intimidating than his.

“I killed him.”

I’ve lived a life that’s full

I travelled each and every highway

And more, much more than this

I did it my way

My father was always a survivalist. He taught me how to make a fire out of sticks, how to hunt — even when I was begging him not to make me shoot an innocent creature, — and, starting last year, how to defend myself.

He said something about ‘it was better to be prepared and nothing happen than to be unprepared and have something happen.’ I guess he was right, at least we’re prepared. Though, I don’t think he expected his 16-year-old daughter to be using these skills so soon.

After the first month of walking through decaying neighborhoods, buildings, and streets, I was put on map duty. I didn’t mind it, it helped me think. I didn’t want to think about who and what was lost, how all my friends were gone, how my life and future were ruined.

Regrets I’ve had a few

But then again, too few to mention

I did what I had to do

And saw it through without exception

The walking was the worst part, and although the pain in my feet was unbearable, the pain of walking away from the only life I’ve ever known hurt more. I wished I could have told that guy in my 3rd period I liked him, I wished I told my friends I loved them more, and I wished I could be with them without my parents grieving my death.

I wish I didn’t have to kill. Even though it was only a few, it kept me up at night. I would close my eyes and only see their bloodied faces. I would fall asleep and see them beside me.

I tried so hard to not let it get to me. I had to do it. If not for them, it would’ve been me. Maybe it would’ve been me.

I planned each chartered course

Each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this

I did it my way

My parents met Tim as they were going on a supply run while we were stationed at an old house. He had been staying in the overgrown convenient store tending to his wounds when they came in.

Dad said the man didn’t even put his gun up just kept his hands above his hands. Mom said he showed them a bunch of supplies that hadn’t expired. They said he was a good man.

I had just planned our next ‘trip’ when they brought him. He was pushy and, honestly, very arrogant. Even if he didn’t show it around my parents. He wasn’t ugly, but I had no attraction toward him.

“I guess he’s just not my type.” I told my mom when she asked why I didn’t ‘give him a chance.’

She laughed at my response, “Well honey, just give him a chance. It’s been 6 years since you went on a date-“

Before she could speak further I interrupted her, “Yeah Mom, 6 years since the world went to shit. I don’t need some guy to protect me, you know? I have you guys for that.”

And she laughed. God, I missed her laugh.

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew

When I bit off more than I could chew

It had only been a few months since Tim joined us. I could see something was wrong with him. His eyebrows were always furrowed like he was trying to figure out the hardest math problem. His jaw clenched when my dad talked to him, sometimes I thought he was going to hit him.

To my dismay, he was much pushier. He would constantly want to be around me, he would always go with me on my runs, and, worst of all, he would not stop asking me out.

After the tenth time that week, I had enough. “Where would you take me out to, Tim? What? The woods? The old diner down the street that’s infested with the infected? Oh! Or do you want to go to the shed by the creek where the clickers are?” I said, no yelled.

His face changed completely. The cocky smile contorted into the same expression that scared me throughout these months. “You’re going to regret saying that.” That’s all he said before walking towards his place of residency for the time being.

Later that night, I woke up to several grunts and pleas. As I tried to move my hands up to rub my face, I realized that my body had been attached to a rope wrapped around a tree. I looked around at my surroundings, I was outside in an open area in the woods. In front of me were my parents in the same predicament as myself.

I called for them. They didn’t respond, both of them looking off to the side. I turned my head as much as I could to see what they were looking at. To my shock, it was Tim standing there. Leaned up on a tree, axe in hand. When I called for him instead, that’s when all three of them turned to look at me.

My mom looked like she had been crying for hours. My father looked furious, a face I hadn’t seen in a long time, his face was bruised and bloody. His right eye was swollen shut and his nose bleeding. Tim looked the opposite, he was clean like he had taken a shower moments before, although, his knuckles were bleeding, and his face. God, he looked ecstatic.

He walked over to me, his axe still gripped tightly in his hand. He looked down at me before placing a hand on my face. I flinched, his face looked like it did that afternoon prior.

“You should’ve just except my fucking date. Now, look at what you made me do.” He said.

I shook my head, “Please... My sorry, please don’t do this.” I pled, but all he did was walk over to my parents.

I scream at him for what felt like an eternity but his back still faced me. He only looked at me when he got in the face of my mother. When I looked into his eyes, I knew he wasn’t going to stop, no matter what I did.

I watched him kill them both with the axe. I couldn’t protect them. I could only cry. The most undeserving deaths. Just for what? A date?

He came over to me quickly after killing them both. I had stared at their corpses for so long that I hadn’t noticed him cutting the rope. I ran to them as soon as I was free. Not long after, he came after me.

But through it all when there was doubt

I ate it up and spit it out

I faced it all and I stood tall

And did it my way

I remember when Tim took me from my home. The way he would talk about my parents was like they were some problem in my life. How I didn’t need them, I was too old anyways. It felt like he was jealous of it all, that I had my family and he didn’t. I found sympathy in him, in a way.

‘Maybe it’s the Stockholm Syndrome kicking in.’ I would think. But then again, he murdered my parents because I wouldn’t date him. Who the fuck does that.

One time I brought it up to him, which landed me on the ground with a hard punch in the face. I didn’t talk for the rest of our travel.

One year later, he found a farmhouse. It was impressive, basically taken out of a Hallmark movie. Though my impression of it changed when I got to the children’s rooms, it didn’t take long for him to start commenting about how we should ‘fill them up.’ Fucking disgusting.

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed, and cried

I’ve had my fill, my share of losing

After 13 years of being here, I learned to live — or survive as I like to call it — with him. Sure, I tried to escape a few times, but it never worked out in my favor.

The first time I left, I was gone for a week. I lived in the woods, trying to find some haven which was harder than it looked, considering I didn’t have any access to a map or any weapons. Tim confiscated everything on me the day we left my parents’ rotting bodies.

He found me curled up behind a tree, facing a creek. Fighting him never worked. No amount of self-defense could ever get him down without a weapon. He was bigger than me, and when a stick didn’t work, I gave up.

All the escapes after had been futile, he had set up traps in the woods close to the house, knowing I couldn’t walk on the trail without him seeing me on his day-night searches.

He wanted me to be a stay-at-home-whatever-the-fuck. So fucking be it. I won’t lie, I played the part as much as I could. Whatever would get him to leave me alone. It didn’t work sometimes, but it did for the most part.

So I “loved” him. If love is making him food, cleaning his messes, cleaning his clothes, and letting him hug me.

I laughed at his stupid jokes that I had heard a million times before this shit show.

I cried at night when I had to share a bed with him. Feeling guilty that I couldn’t do anything about this predicament, that I couldn’t find a single sharp thing that could kill him or myself.

And now, as tears subside

I find it all so amusing

He left early that day, earlier than usual. When I woke up he was gone, only leaving a note saying he had gone on another supply run. I scoffed as if we don’t have enough.

I barely know where he goes these days, you would think after all these years, he had found every single store or house, but I guess not.

As I walked to the kitchen, I noticed something abnormal on the table designated for Tim’s backpack. It was a fucking knife.

‘He must’ve left it there when he was searching through it.’ I thought. “Dumbass.” That was all I said before quickly grabbing the handle and pocketing it.

Soon after I was done making eggs — still don’t know where he gets the eggs from, he could’ve at least told me that — he came back. I gave him a short greeting before putting the two plates on the table and sitting down. He sat down next to me, both of us not uttering a single word. It was nice, the silence.

I got up as soon as I was done, cleaning off my plate. Before I could leave, I was entrapped by his arms, pulling me into his chest. I scowl, still not used to touching the horrendous man.

“I love you.” He said. “I-“ Before he could speak any further, I reached behind me and stabbed him the first place I could reach, his left shoulder.

He released me and stumbled away, giving me time to run to the door. As soon as I unlocked and opened the door, I was pushed to the ground, landing on my back onto the dirt in the front yard. Tim was on top of me, panting heavily, his blood and spit dripping down onto my face. I struggled with him as his hands tried to find a way to my neck.

My hands faltered for a millisecond, allowing him to wrap his hands around my neck. I fought with him once more, arms and legs flailing, trying to get him off of me. My attempts were futile. The harder I fought, the harder he gripped my neck.

He smiled menacingly when he saw me losing strength, “You spoiled fucking bitch. After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you're fucking repaying me? Stabbing me with my knife?” He screamed in my face, as I sobbed and kicked.

I accepted my fate, me dying in the hands of the man that has made my life miserable, at least he would leave me alone now. “I should’ve killed you right in front of your mama and daddy.” He said.

Something snapped in me. Sure, maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the hatred I consumed for him for years. But I like to think my parents wanted me to avenge their deaths.

To think I did all that

And may I say, not in a shy way

Oh no, oh no, not me

I did it my way

As soon as my right hand felt the unfamiliar, cold object, I quickly grabbed it and hit him once in the head with as much force as I could gain. He was on the ground instantaneously. I got up on her feet taking a few breaths before pulling myself into a defensive position. My hands up and set on the metal pipe securely, eyes focused on the battered man’s wheezing form.

To my surprise, he stayed on the ground, back facing me as he groaned in pain. I stepped closer and kicked him in his backside. “Fucking look at me, you coward.” I snarled, “Look at what you fucking did to me!” I screamed at him, kicking him once more.

This time he decided to look at me. Eyes moving towards me away from the afternoon sky, “Please, Y/N. Don’t do this to me, baby.” He pled with me. And for a second, I thought about letting him go, but I knew that wouldn’t stop him from trying to find me. This had to end.

I took one step towards his battered body before speaking, “I fucking trusted you. My parents trusted you, and you murdered them like it was nothing! You wanted me to think it was nothing!” I screamed, letting out every single emotion I had felt throughout these years. “I have hated you ever since that night. You didn’t fucking save me! You’re a murdering waste of space.” I admitted.

“I saved you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “You didn’t save me. You ruined me.” I said, before hitting him again. I repeated myself once more before hitting him again for good measure.

For what is a man, what has he got?

If not himself, then he has naught

When I was done, the man was unrecognizable. His face caved in, bruises showed through the cracks of his clothes, and dirt covered most of his backside. I looked at the body for what felt like an eternity.

I didn’t drop the pipe in her hand until she made herself back inside the house. Closing the door behind me, walking to the kitchen where I once was. I picked up the knife that Tim had pulled out of his arm, placing it in my back pocket.

I looked around the house, an eery silence following me. As glad as I was that he was gone, the loneliness crept behind me. Not that I’d miss that ugly son of a bitch anyways.

My hands darted to the bags that he had left when he departed, quickly going up to them and ripping them open. There wasn’t much for me, Tim was quite a hoarder. He collected unnecessary things. The bag was no different, besides the cans of food and water bottles, the rest was unneeded random objects. Multiple different pans, silverware, and cups. Clothes that would neither fit him nor myself.

I glanced at his backpack that was left on the table, I aggressively grabbed it and looked through it. For whatever reason, he never let me look through it. Something about him sharing everything with me and he deserved privacy. It was laughable considering that he would do monthly checks of the house looking for secret hiding places where I would put my plans of escape.

I completely emptied the bag, object sprawling all over the ground. I rummaged through them, I stopped when I found a piece of jewelry. “Fucking bastard.” I cursed. It was my mom’s, she said one day, it would be mine. Some kind of generation gift I guess.

When I looked further, I found more of my things from so long ago. It was surprising that he kept all these things but wanted me to let go of all of them, even my parents.

I found my old diary, the mp3 player my dad gave me, and a dusty picture of my family that I had kept under my pillow when my parents were still alive. I called him a bunch of insults before picking up what you wanted and packing them into the, once Tim’s, book bag.

Before I started packing my clothes, I passed a mirror and stopped. I inspected myself, my face covered in his blood, my hands still red from the cold pipe outside, and possibly from Tim’s blood.

I rubbed my face, expecting it to come off easily but it had dried faster than I had originally thought. I rubbed more aggressively, eyes tearing up, whispering, “You ruined me.”

To say the things he truly feels

And not the words of one who kneels

The record shows I took the blows

“Tim was a bad man who murdered my parents,” At that the man’s hold on the gun falters, but still stands his ground, “and kidnapped me. I tried to escape, he tried to strangle me, and I killed him with a pipe.” You summarized.

The girl behind the man sighed, “Joel put the gun down, she doesn’t even have a weapon on her.” She tried to convince him.

You made a face, “Actually, there’s a knife in my back pocket.” You said, making them both turn to look at you.

The man, seemingly named Joel, sighed, “Stand up.” You quickly followed his orders. He reached behind you and smoothly grabbed the knife from your pocket, hands brushing over your ass. “Alright, I believe ya. But I saw that guy’s body, I know what you’re capable of. Do you wanna go somewhere else?” He asks, hovering over you for a few seconds after he stopped talking. He took you in before backing away.

“Only if I get to keep the pipe.” You bargained.

Joel scoffed, “Here’s the deal; I’ll keep the pipe safe until we can trust you, 'kay?”

“Deal.”

And did it my way

-

jesus christ this is so long y’all… hopefully grammarly does me justice bc i’m not reading all of this 😭

[octoberobserver]

The Loser Takes It All - Reddie Fic

(Read on ao3)

“I don’t want to talk about things we’ve gone through. Though it’s hurting me, now it’s history…I played all my cards, and that’s what you’ve done too. Nothing more to say, no more ace to play. The winner takes it all, the loser’s standing sma—”

“Richie! Why the fuck are you screaming ABBA at the top of your lungs at seven on a Saturday morning?!”  

Richie Tozier whirled around, spatula slipping from where it had been held up to his mouth as a makeshift microphone.

“Fuck, Eds! You scared the shit outta me, man!” he yelped, fumbling with his phone to pause the music. “I-I thought you didn’t get back ‘til tonight?”

Something in Eddie’s face softened as he shuffled over, wiping a hand across his eyes. 

“I pushed up my flight. Got back last night. I didn’t wanna wake you, so I went straight to bed.”

He halted at the stove, peering into the pan and seeing the makings of Richie’s signature bell pepper omelettes. 

“Enough for me?” he asked hopefully, bumping their shoulders together in a way that always had Richie’s stomach swooping.

“Always,” he bumped his shoulder back in a way he hoped was a lot more casual than it felt.

“Why are you singing angry break-up songs at the crack of dawn, anyway?”

Richie hummed, flapping a hand and keeping his eyes locked on the pan.

“Eh, why not? Sometimes you just gotta jam to some Swedes, ya know?”

Eddie’s eyes trailed the side of his face, no doubt taking in the frown lines and dark circles that marred it.

“...Rich, have you been to bed yet?”

“Uh,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and flipping the omelette with the other. “...no?”

Eddie’s stare was downright piercing.

“I—I got home at three last night. Where the hell were you if you weren’t in bed?”

Richie turned on his heel to grab the cheese out of the fridge and took a second to shove his head into it, savouring the cold and the sweet relief of not having to look Eds in the eye as he grumbled. 

“On the balcony.”

Three.

Tw—

“You were stress smoking again, weren’t you?!”

He tried and failed to hold back a grin.

“You know I was, Eds. I don’t know why it bothers you so mu—”

“Well fuck me for caring about your health, asshole! Don’t you know the stats on—”

“Yeah, I do, because you remind me like four times a day,” Richie cut across his Kaspbrakian rant, cheddar in hand.

“Rich—”

“Eddie, it’s like a couple’a drags a day. And it’s only ‘cause of this Netflix shit. I’ll go cold turkey again when that’s all done, I promise. Blame Bev. She’s a bad influence.”

He practically felt Eddie’s eyes narrow.

“You told me your Netflix meeting went well. So why were you really smoking?”

You know why.

He swallowed down those words with the next flip of an omelette. 

“Sarah get the flight back with you?”

Sarah was Eddie’s Personal Assistant and Richie’s second favourite person at his firm. She was witty, could keep up with Kaspbrakian rants like an OG Loser, and was damn good at her job. Richie wished he could hire her to sort out his life, to be honest. Both personal and professional.

“Yeah, she’s home now. Doesn’t wanna see Erica from Accounting in the vicinity of tequila ever again, apparently.”

The sizzle of the frying pan was the only sound that permeated the kitchen for what felt like hours but, in reality, couldn’t have been more than fifteen seconds before Eddie finally said the words that Richie had been dreading for the last three days.

“So. You wanna talk about it?”

His entire body tensed up, hand gripping the spatula almost painfully as he stared down at the omelette, flipping it.

“Talk about what?”

He could practically feel the stink eye levelled his way, but, a seasoned recipient of such a look, he didn’t cave.

“You kissed me, Richie.”

Shit.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an Eddie-shaped blur begin to pace back and forth, hands karate-chopping through the air.

“Right before you left for your meeting the morning I was flying out, you took one last sip of your coffee, closed down your laptop, kissed me on the lips and shot through the door before I could even register what happened.”

Keep it together, Tozier. Breathe.

With shaking hands, he plated the omelette before starting his own.

“I remember.”

There was a short pause at that as if Eddie wasn’t expecting him to just admit it. Which fair, really. It was probably the most direct ol’ Trashmouth had been about his massive crush on him in thirty, not-so-straight years.

“Okay. Good,” Eddie cleared his throat. “Uh…wanna maybe elaborate?”

“Not really.”

“Richie.”

“Eddie.”

“Look,” Richie’s omelette was close to becoming scrambled eggs with the amount he was shaking the pan’s handle.  “It’s not a big deal, Eds, okay? Just a ‘see ya later, bro’ peck or whatever. I just—it was automatic like autopilot. I wasn’t thinkin’, I was runnin’ late, and I just…did it, and before I knew it, I was in the Uber. I didn’t even realise what I’d done ‘til I was halfway to Netflix HQ.”

When he dared a glance, he saw something complicated cross over Eddie’s ridiculously handsome face, and he scrambled to continue.

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to, like—make you uncomfortable, or whatever. It wasn’t—”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Oh. Right. Okay. Good.”

“Good.”

They stared at one another.

“Just a ‘bro peck’, huh?”

“Yep. Sure.”

“Hmm.”

One beat.

Two. 

Three.

Slowly, quietly, as if approaching a spooked horse, Eddie reached out and gently retrieved his plate from the counter, his pinky finger brushing against the back of his hand. It was embarrassing just how small of a touch from Eddie Kaspbrak still set off fireworks in Richie’s nervous system, lighting him up like the fuckin’ Fourth of July, even after all this time.

“Thanks for breakfast. Bro.”

“No prob—”

Warm lips pressed lightly against his for a split second before Eddie lowered back down on his heels, his giant, dark, bush-baby eyes swimming with something unreadable.

Richie flushed, his stomach erupting with butterflies, dancing the tango with those same fireworks.

With a small smile, Eddie nodded downwards.

“You’re burning your eggs, Trashmouth.”

“Oh, shit!” Richie hissed as soft billows of smoke wafted from the pan.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie remarked from behind him, something that made Richie’s heart race laced in his tone. “You can share mine.”

It felt like it could be so much more than a promise to split breakfast. But with the 1987 rule of ‘Eddie doesn’t share food, it’s unhygienic, Trashmouth,’ still firmly in effect, Richie was beyond stoked either way.

“You know if you want any more ‘bro pecks,’ you’re gonna have to give up smoking though, right?” 

“You drive a hard bargain, Eds. But consider it done.”

[aggravatetheaxe]

BO SINCLAIR X TRANS MAN / MAN ALIGNED READER COMING OUT - Pt. 1 - Under Your Skin

This title is SAFE FOR WORK. Pt. 2, Over the Moon, will be NSFW. I'll link that here when it's written!

You met Bo while you were still presenting as a woman. Suffice to say things have changed, and you can't keep your secret from him any longer. You have no choice but to tell him or leave ... but what if he makes you leave anyway?

CW: descriptions of dysphoria that get very intense, deadnaming/misgendering, mentions of murder and mortal peril, it's 2005 and Bo is from the south so just be advised it's not all fluff and rainbows (but there is payoff, this isn't straight angst, it's just a journey)

Soundtrack: x

Words: 4,175

Part Two

Masterlist

***

Your shoulders were stiff. Your throat was dry. Your leg was bouncing, the only thing you could do to release the nervous energy juttering through your body.

You were going to tell him.

You'd put it off for months now, not quite sure how to say the words. Then, when you'd arranged them in your head, fear had kept you from saying them out loud. But you couldn't wait anymore. You couldn't live like this any longer.

You'd been hiding the secret for too long. Every time Bo called you by your birth name or made some quip about you being his girl, your heart shriveled just a little more. It had gotten to the point where you didn't even want compliments from him ... you didn't want to talk. You didn't even really want to sleep with him, didn't like to think about him looking at you as a woman during sex.

He didn't know, of course. But that almost made it worse. He couldn't stop hurting you and you couldn't yell at him for it. It was always the same: you lost control, you got frustrated, wouldn't tell him why, he'd get frustrated, you'd fight ... it was a mess. You knew all that was putting a strain on your relationship.

So it had to be tonight.

It had to be tonight.

You had everything planned. You'd already gone into town with Lester and picked up some stuff for a nice dinner; there was a fresh, cold six-pack of Bud in the fridge; and Rocky III was sitting in the VHS player, ready to go. Once he was relaxed, you'd talk to him.

You'd convinced yourself so fully that you'd stick to the plan that when you heard his truck pull up and your heart leapt into your throat, you nearly cried. Fuck, not again. Not another night. You were supposed to be stronger than this.

Stomping boots on the porch. You heard the door swing open from the kitchen. "I'm home."

He didn't sound like he was in a particularly good mood, but it didn't sound like a bad one, either. That was good news, at least. Things must have gone okay down at the shop. "I'm in here!" you called back.

Bo appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, tracking a little gravel into the house as always. He leaned against the doorframe with one hand on his hip, gesturing with his chin. "Hey, sugar. What you got there?"

You looked down at the meal you were plating. "I thought I'd try a pot roast? I dunno. I don't think it came out very good, but I guess we'll see."

He didn't say anything. You glanced over your tense shoulder to see him simply staring at you, like he was trying to read your thoughts. You could sense the gears in his head turning behind those clever blue eyes of his. He knew there was something wrong; you were guarded.

For a moment, you thought he might say something. That familiar little bit of irritation was beginning to creep into his face, right around his neck and jaw. But after a few seconds, he simply said, "A'right," and straightened. "M'gonna go change."

"'Kay." As he stomped up the stairs, you finished getting the food ready and brought the plates to the living room. Bo usually ate at the table—"I ain't a savage"—but you could tell he liked eating on the couch. It was like a special treat. And clearly, you were short on charm at the moment, so you'd have to use your environment to your advantage.

You pulled up two tray tables and set the food down, then fetched the beer. By the time everything was set up, Bo was coming back down the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to look at him. He was wearing jeans and a red flannel, sleeves rolled up. At this point, he didn't care about you seeing his scars. You hardly noticed them anymore.

He came closer and slowed to a stop, forehead wrinkling as he eyed your set-up. "What's all this about?"

"I was thinking dinner and a movie." You paused. "I thought Rocky might get the taste of my cooking out of your mouth."

You succeeded in making him laugh a little, crow's feet crinkling, but as he took a step closer, his smile faded. "Did you do somethin'? Is somethin' broken?" He glanced quickly, running his gaze over the clutter his parents had left behind.

"Nothing's wrong," you reassured him quickly, stepping back into his line of sight in the hopes of distracting him. "I just thought, you know, we could have a nice night. Like ... romantic?"

He stared at you for a moment. Then, his gaze lit, a toothy smile appearing. "Romantic, huh? Well hell, sweetie, why didn't ya say so?"

He clearly thought you meant sex. In fact, the way he was looking at you, you thought he'd jump you right up against the pool table if you let him. Your dysphoria made sex so unbearable that you'd been avoiding it when you could lately, and you were sure he missed it.

You were lucky he hadn't gotten mean yet. You guessed that was a testament to how much he must like you. But who knew if he'd like you after tonight?

Quickly, you shoved a beer into his hand, redirecting his attention as you slid onto the couch and clicked play. He slid into place beside you, relaxing back with his legs spread.

You both picked at your food—you because you were way too nervous to eat, and him because ... well, you assumed it was because he was waiting for you to initiate the "romance." He did eventually finish his meal, though, complimenting you with one of his "So good, baby"s and a boozy kiss.

The movie droned on, and eventually, he wrapped an arm around you. As he did, you relaxed, if only a little. You wanted to settle into him ... you wanted it more than anything in the world. You did love him. But who did he love? The woman he thought he was putting his arm around wasn't you.

"What's wrong?" His tone was firm and sudden after such a long stretch of silence.

You blinked at him. "Nothing."

He wasn't buying it, and he didn't look impressed. "There's no point in lyin'a me, darlin'. I know when somethin' ain't right." Then, with a little edge to his voice, "You know I get pissed when you brush me off."

"I'm just..." You sighed, setting your beer aside and rubbing your forehead. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Let's go to bed, then." In one fluid motion, he stood and turned off the TV. "Hope you're not too tired," he added quietly.

It was equal parts insult, warning, and come-on, and it exhausted you as much as it panicked you. You weren't ready to tell him just yet. You'd figured you still had a few hours, but ... well, if you pissed him off now, all this nice set-dressing had been for nothing. Then you'd either have to tell him while he was in a bad mood or spend another night as someone you weren't.

Biting back a sigh, you stood, too. He was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, and let you go up first.

"Nice view from back here," he said smoothly. "Almost wanna tell you to start runnin'."

Shit. You needed an excuse to buy yourself a little time. "Can you shower first?"

You knew the question ticked him off because he didn't answer it. He followed you to your shared room, grabbed a towel, and left for the bathroom in heated silence.

The shower would make him feel better. It always did. He'd scald himself like he liked, then come out much calmer. Hopefully. You changed and took your place in bed, sitting under the blankets with your pillow propping you up. Waiting.

You were wrong about the calm. When he came back into the bedroom—red-skinned and completely naked, towel occupied in his hair—he was scowling at the floor. You waited for him to yell. It was inevitable.

When he did finally say something, his tone was quieter than you imagined, though simmering. "Why are you doin' this to me?"

You didn't respond, mostly because you had no idea which this he was talking about.

"Hurts my pride, y'know." He began toweling his body. Rather roughly, you noticed. "My girl don't wanna fuck me. You know how that feels as a man? You think I wanna have to— hurt you?"

A pause. "Bo..."

"Am I gonna have to get it somewhere else? Fuck, Deadname."

You shrank in bed. That name made you feel rotten to the core. It was like poison slowly choking your veins. You had to do this ... but you couldn't. But you had to.

Bo was unaware of the war going on inside of you as he turned, leaning against the dresser, arms back to clutch the edge. "Is it someone else?" You could tell he was murderous just thinking about that possibility, gaze aflame, jaw clenched so hard you thought he might break teeth. "Is it Vincent?"

"What? No!" Why he'd think that when you'd only ever expressed mild concern for Vincent's well-being, you had no idea. "There's no one else, Bo, I just—"

"Then what's a matter with you, huh?" He raised his voice. "Am I too rough, am I too— Jesus Christ, you gotta at least tell me what the damage is!"

Your conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You yelled back, "It's not you!"

"Then what the hell is it?!"

"It's me!"

He opened his mouth to shout back, but only managed, "What in the f—" before he lost steam, searching your face helplessly. Something about the way you looked must have given him pause. You meant what you said. Desperately, desperately. It was you. You were the problem.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, glare pointed. "You been off all night. Hell"—one of those incredulous laughs that betrayed his genuine anger—"you been off for a while. Least you can do is tell me what the fuck is goin' on."

He was right. No turning back now. You took a deep, grounding breath. "Okay."

A moment of hesitation. Did you want him close or across the room like that, just in case? Eventually, you decided you needed him close. You patted the bed beside you.

Bo grabbed a pair of boxer-briefs, stepping into them on his way over. His expression was still twisted sourly, but you could sense him relax as he sat in bed next to you. He didn't meet your eye, simply looking down at the sheets. Beneath the anger, a begrudging expectation simmered. Did he think you were going to break things off?

That thought spurred you into taking his hand, squeezing lightly. "I love you so fucking much."

He glanced to the side. At length, he mumbled, "You, too."

You took another deep breath, trying to keep your voice from shaking. "There's something I haven't told you about me. And it's really been stressing me out lately. That's why I've been acting so weird." When he didn't reply, you continued, "It's been making it ... hard to be close to you. I don't like the way lying to you makes me feel, and I've been ... scared, so fucking scared, Bo."

He glanced at you again, brows drawn, this time with confusion rather than anger. "So what is it? What the hell can be so big an' important that you can't stand bein' around me?" A pause. "I mean shit, Deadname, you know I kill people for a livin'. My fucked up twin turns 'em into wax. You know about the fuckin' dungeon—what could be bigger'n that?"

That fucking name. You couldn't take it anymore. Your voice cracked as you whispered, "You need to stop calling me Deadname."

"What? Why?" He frowned deeply. "That's your name, ain't it?"

"It's not the name I want to be called."

You could almost hear the gears in his head turning as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Okay ... so it ain't your real name. Why you goin' around using a fake name?" His gaze turned flinty and cold. "You're a cop."

"No!" You held up your hands. "No, I didn't lie about who I was, not ... not in the way you're thinking. I was born with that name; everything I've told you about my life and where I came from, all those things were true. I never lied about any of that."

"Then what is it?" He was getting angry again. "Spit it out!"

Well, since he asked... "I don't want to use that name because ... it's a woman's name. And I'm not a woman. I'm a man."

Bo stared for a few seconds, then scanned you up and down once. His shoulders slumped, just slightly. "You were ... born a man? Then how come your name—"

"No, no." You pursed your lips, taking his hand hesitantly again. "I was ... I guess for simplicity's sake you could say I was born a girl. I was born with a vagina, I developed breasts and started my period naturally. But I'm not a girl. Like, in my head. In my brain, I'm actually a man."

He didn't believe you. You could see it in his face. But you weren't planning on giving up that easily. You knew what he'd be thinking; you'd planned this whole thing out so carefully, chosen your words so precisely.

"It's not ... a delusion or anything. It's actually more common than people think. It's called being transgender. When you're born one gender but you want to be another."

He frowned, obviously completely lost. He wasn't getting it. He just didn't fucking understand. And you were growing desperate.

"Bo." Your throat was raw, tears threatening your eyes. "Every time you call me your girl, or you refer to me as a woman, or you use that name ... I fucking hate it. It hurts. It hurts so goddamn bad to know you're not seeing the real me. It makes me not see the real me. I look in the mirror and I just want to ... tear my skin off. Sometimes I just wanna take a knife and— and fix me. Cut out whatever part of me makes it hurt so bad. I just want to be seen as who I am so bad."

"Okay." You didn't like the way he was looking at you, but the anguish in your voice had at least moved him to speak. You could see in his eyes that he was working overtime to puzzle this out. "So, what? What're you gonna do? What's it mean for us?"

"Well..." You had to break eye contact, staring down at his hand. "What I'd like to do is start living as a man. You know, dressing like a man—which I already pretty much do—going by a different name, maybe cutting my hair. You could call me 'he' ... I might even get medicine later on down the line, like hormones, to make me look squarer. Maybe even surgery."

"You gonna get a dick?" The almost mocking tone of his voice made you want to shrivel up and die. He seemed to pick up on the change in your body immediately and shifted his tone. "I'm askin'."

"No, that's not a thing. But I'm gonna be a man regardless." Finally, you released his hand, though you still couldn't look at him. "What that means for us is ... up to you, I guess. It'd mean you were dating a guy. I mean, you have been this whole time—"

"I didn't fucking know," he cut in firmly.

A jolt of fear lanced your heart. "I know. That's my fault; I didn't tell you. I was ... scared."

"Scared of what?" he pressed, tone growing aggressive.

"I don't know. Of you being mad. Or not loving me anymore." You glanced up. "I love you. Seriously, I do. More than anything. I still want to be with you, just ... as a man."

There was silence. A horrible, stretching, heavy silence that made you want to hang your head and cry. After a while, Bo rose from bed, going to the dresser and pulling on jeans and a T-shirt, all in that silence.

Was he ... leaving you? No, he wouldn't leave his own house, he'd make you leave. Or kill you. But he certainly wasn't opening his arms to you. Waves of sadness crashed over your chest, so intense you thought you'd throw up.

He seemed to contemplate the dresser for an extended period. Then, he glanced over his shoulder, just barely. "I need ta' think."

And with that, he was out the door. He didn't come back to bed that night. The next morning, you found his pillow on the couch.

***

Vincent was next on your list of people to tell. It turned out he was a big help, bigger than you could have ever realized he would be. You had to explain yourself, but he took it in stride, calling you by your new chosen name and even helping you come up with a sign for it.

« Did you tell Bo? » he eventually asked you.

"I told him last night." Your eyes were still puffy and red from your night alone, and the morning following it. You still hadn't seen him, but you could hear music blaring from the garage, so you at least knew where he was.

« How did he take it? »

"He isn't speaking to me."

Vincent paused. His wax face was blank as always, but you could tell he was considering something. « Did he yell? »

"No ... he just said he would think about it."

A low grunt, and Vincent nodded. « Then let him think. »

And he did think. He thought about it every night from then on. You could see him thinking during meal times, when you brought him lunch down at the shop, when he was watching TV. You noticed him zoning out in the middle of reading sometimes: paperback crunched and folded in one hand, other hand pressed to his grim mouth, those blue eyes glassy and staring at nothing. Thinking.

He hardly ever spoke to you outside of necessary communication. Before bed, he told you goodnight, but it was ... heavy. He didn't roll over to touch you or hold you anymore. The distance was yawning and heartbreaking, especially when you were alone. The silence was so pregnant with unsaid words and all his damn thoughts.

You wanted to ask if he was mad, but you didn't dare. He didn't seem mad, and you knew a thing or two about his moods. This seemed ... different. So you simply didn't say anything.

And then, one day...

"Hey, handsome."

His voice practically made you jump out of your skin. You, Vincent, and Bo—and sometimes Lester—divided who would have to go into the houses in Ambrose to dust and clean, and today was your day. He'd snuck up on you in the middle of oiling some of the rigs like he'd taught you.

"Uh. Hey." You managed a hasty smile, uncertain you'd actually heard him call you what you thought he had. "What're you doing here?" After a week of him barely speaking to you, it seemed odd that he'd start now.

Bo took a few steps in, looking away and reaching to fiddle with a knick-knack on a nearby side table. "Just thought I'd come check up on you. You are my, uh ... boyfriend, after all."

You stopped dead in the middle of spraying WD-40, staring over your shoulder. What?

When he felt you staring, he lifted his gaze. There was an uncertainty there, discomfort, along with a challenge. "What?"

"Nothing." You turned back to your work. After a few seconds, you added, "Thank you."

He didn't respond, but he eventually sidled up to you, surveying your work. "Not half bad. Yeah, you're doin' real good." He reached up to adjust his hat, and you could feel his gaze on you. "We'll make a man outta you yet."

You couldn't help it—your face burned. "Girls can maintain machinery, too, Bo."

"Yeah, I know that, but you—" An edge of irritation entered his voice. "Now you're just confusin' me."

You set down the WD-40 and turned, searching his face. By god, he really was trying, wasn't he? It was almost cute how bad he was at it, but he was trying. Vincent had been right.

"You never asked my name," you eventually muttered.

"Vincent told me it. Y/N." He said it again, rolling it around on his tongue. "Y/N ... in'erestin' choice. I guess it suits ya." A pause, and he lowered his voice. "Gonna take me some gettin' used to."

"That's okay," you said quickly. "As long as you're trying."

"Yeah, well..." Bo paused before reaching out, brushing his fingers through your hair. "Gonna miss all this."

You leaned into his hand. "I might not cut it. I haven't decided yet."

He grunted, continuing to brush his fingers through your hair. You could see his expression drift back to that thoughtfulness you'd gotten used to seeing. Eventually, he said, "Guess this makes me gay."

He sounded so begrudging and yet so decisive that you almost laughed in his face. Thankfully, you were able to bite back your reaction. "You don't have to be. You can be whatever you want. But ... if you stayed with me, it would mean you were attracted to at least one man, yeah."

"Fine." He pursed his lips, huffing through his nose. "Bi-sexual or whatever."

"You don't have to put a label on it right now. You've got time." You hesitated before taking his large hands in yours, bringing them to cup your jaw. "This ... you know ... it isn't something that has to happen overnight. I'm not asking that. It's a process for both of us ... a lot to get used to for both of us."

"Sure the hell is." He scoffed and shoved his hat up his forehead, scratching his hairline. "Now I want you to tell me somethin'. Why were you so damn scared of tellin' me?"

You took a breath. "I mean ... Bo."

"What?"

"I'm in the south ... alone, no family ... in a town where you could kill me if I pissed you off and no one would ever know." He made a face, but you pressed: "You know where I come from. Things are dangerous there, and things around here are even—"

"You think just 'cause you're in the country folks are gonna treat you different?" He sounded offended.

"Bo," you said again. "Let's not kid ourselves. How many guys do you know who would beat my ass if they found out? If they found out I liked other men, even."

"Couple assholes. But they ain't gonna bother you with me around. B'sides, plenty a' gays around here, like any other place ... they're just drillin' and weldin' and workin' the factories." He fixed you with a look. "Country don't mean stupid."

"Did you just quote The Stand?"

"No," he said hastily, taking his hat off and shoving it in the back pocket of his Dickies. "All I'm sayin' is ... I'm not some dumb animal."

Your shoulders sank, heart softening. "I know you're not, baby. But you have been known to, y'know, murder people. You can understand why I was scared, can't you?"

His mouth twitched, but reluctantly, he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." A pause. "I can't promise I won't never hurt you, Deadn— Y/N. I know I can be real careless with my words on occasion. But I won't kill ya. Don' know if I could reconcile that shame. And, uh ... I love you."

Your heart swelled, and you leaned forward, hugging him tightly around the middle. It wasn't long until you felt his strong, warm arms enfold you in return, one hand tangling in your hair. His heartbeat was steady and comforting beneath your head, and the heat radiating from him relaxed every muscle in your body.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, hugging tightly while the TV droned in the background. Eventually, he shifted and spoke, his voice rumbling deliciously against you.

"Now if you don't mind," Bo started casually before dropping into a purr, "I'd like a kiss from my handsome lover."

You couldn't help but grin up at him. "You sure?"

"Lay it on me, big boy."

Maybe you were evil for loving him despite it all. Maybe you were complicit. Those weren't your judgments to make. But as you craned your neck to kiss him and euphoria exploded through your chest, you knew one thing for certain:

You were you.

***

Part Two

Masterlist

Tip Jar

[yaomomvs]

SEIJOH MANANGER HEADCANONS

seijoh, aoba johsai x reader | slight oikawa, iwaizumi and kunimi x reader.

a/n: ugh! i just love my seijoh boys so much! and so, i decided to make one more headcanons for them, tysm! hopefully i’ll do inarizaki next or maybe karasuno.

a bit long but i just love them,and i will do a part two mainly focusing on while they do volleyball this is more of random things

other seijoh!manager works: one | two

the volume in this bus is ASTRONOMICAL

you actually never thought of joining a club, specially a sports one.

but you needed it, so while looking at the board of the school’s options you were unsure.

“i just really need something not that complicated, and that helps me helping others” you muttered to yourself

little did you know the coach of the volleyball team was there, this nice man turned to you and offered you a place in the team.

“but please if you are one of oikawa’s fangirls dont-” “who now?” you genuinely asked. seeing that you didn’t had a clue of who he was talking about he immediately handed the application for to you.

it was first day and you were already late, but you managed to enter the gym half way practice.

you guys remember that tanaka and kiyoko scene in s4? well it was the same

“sorry for being late coach!” your voice sounded all over the place since someone was serving and it was pretty quiet.

ALL OF THEM WERE SHOCKED LIKE 🧍🏻‍♀️

the serve even hit yahaba’s face because everyone got distracted by your beauty

“i- did i do something?” “existing omg”

the coach lined up everyone and they greeted you welcoming you to the team.

you were flustered because it was like you never had a lot of guys around you and now you had to take care of all of them and also

aoba johsai’s team had one of the most attractive boys around likeeee

now, a year later, the energy is purely chaotic.

and i mean like

kindaichi and kunimi are lowkey the ones who respect you the most

not only because you, even if it was for only a year, you were their upperclassman but also you had presence

when karasuno came to the practice andy oh catched both of them after talking to kageyama in the bathroom, you pinched their ears and scolded them

“you both do that again and i’m not being compassionate” “SORRY Y/N”

but also lowkey your admirers

kunimi literally only showed strong emotions around you

“i brought you some sweets” he regularly says

“oh you are great! thank you kunimi!”you appreciated this guys little details with you

“so you have a favoritism with our manager huh?”

“y/n permission to hit kindaichi”

“permission conceded”

kindaichi also respected you because you, when he entered seijoh months ago, were one of the ones who made him believe and helped getting over that anger he had with his ex teammates and you even assured that kageyama was the reason he got better, even if he wouldn’t accept it

the second years, your literal followers

like seriously yahaba watori were always around you.

being in the same grade and class as both dod not helped a lot.

they are like puppies with anxiety separation

because you are the reason they feel loved and cared for

they always sit next to you in class, and they make sure you are comfortable with it.

you need help with hw? watori always is there

yahaba lets you paint his nails every time you got bored in class

you were such a powerful trio

they always bring your favorite drink in the mornin

you even developed this sixth sense where if you just look at each other you know exactly who are you making fun of without even speaking

you always make fun of the shit way of yahaba to flirt oml

and you even advice him on what should he do or not when meeting someone new.

istg if it was not bc of you he would have never got his first date with his crush

kyoutani later joined you, but he had trouble on trusting you

but seeing all the team laying on you he actually let himself rely on another person for the first time

he was the one who scared those stupid volleyball boys fan girls (oikawa’s or the other guys ones) away from you

he also thinks that you are not bad physically talking and he actually says it but privately

he also whenever he is mad or just frustrated comes to you and what he likes is that you don’t go in deep of the details but instead you try to distract him with random thing you say.

“guys i told you several times” you laughed “i do have other thing to do! it not like i can attend every night out with you! i have other friends too!”

“so, we are not watching cartoons tonight?”

“i hate you all so much” you surrendered “see you at 8 pm”

you became the second years core four

and also they looked up to you a lot, why? because you are the only people who always deals with the third years shit

god i think your connection with the third years was only a bit more noticeable than the second years

why? you were not afraid to mess up with them

to be real iwaizumi as oikawa caught your eye since moment one, they were naturally attractive and talented but you made a promise to not fall for anyone

omg you were so wrong

if it was iwaizumi, he always made sure you felt comfortable around

you were no vb genius so he took the time to explain you a bunch of things you did not know 🥺

also, he’s the kind of guy to stop everyone spiking because you were crossing through the gym so no ball gets you

he is the one who always search for you in school, asked about your day, and stuff that might seem basic but it was really meaningful

like he is the kind of guy who memorizes all your favorite places, treats, music anything and actually tries to get you to talk about it

oikawa on the other hand was the one who actually made you feel like part of them

he is so sweet!

like

oikawa only starts practice when you are there

like bold of someone to start hitting a ball without you there, he considered you part of the team, so he always waited for you

he walked you home or nearby every time he could he wanted you safe

his eyes always always instantly light up and screams “y/n-chan!” and immediately runs to you

but also he is the one who search you the most around

if it was lunch time he went to your home room and literally lunches with you no matter what or who

he never lets anyone lend you their hoodie, it always has to be his that you are wearing

he self crowned himself as your favorite

he hugs you out of nowhere istg is the best feeling ever

hanamaki also also also considers you priority

he is kinda more of the lowkey one, he is mainly the one who checks up on you

he once spotted a bruise in your arm and he immediately freaked out

“DO I HAVE TO FIGHT SOMEONE” “god no! i just dropped a huge book there!”

hanamaki is the one who waits for you in the entrance of the gym to walk with you to practice

he also is the first one to notice if something is wrong with you along with iwachan

they both unintentionally pay attention to you a lot and if you do something out of the common they just approach you

and they are always right

“what’s wrong y/n?” hanamaki says

“yeah, is everything okay you need anything?” iwaizumi continues.

“what do you mean guys? i’m okay” you obviously try to lie.

“no you are not, you are acting different”

“yea iwachan is right you always change yous t shirt before practice and the way you are ordering the volleyballs is off”

“why do know me so well” you indeed had a terrible day, so you almost tear up bb of that and be of how amazing your boys were to you sometimes”

“come here little one”

you heard a pout

“i see you oikawa, you can get a hug too. matsu come here”

matsukawa is your hype man

he loves messing with you like in the big brother sister way

like if a guy asked you out he’d be like “sis you can do so much better”

you are always being salty whether it’s between you or other ones

besides if you do have a crush on anyone on the team matsu is the only one to know

and he’d constantly blackmail you with that

“if you don’t buy me anything from the vending machine i will tell oikawa you actually swoon for him” “OKAY FINE”

“tell the coach that we do not need laps or iwaizumi is gonna knowwwww about” “i hate you so much”

but returning to the point you always messed with them specially the four third years

and you were so good at it

one day, you ‘innocently’ mentioned to the boys “i’m just telling you! i’ve never seen two pretty best friends, one of them always gotta be ugly”

GOD LORD THE BOMB YOU JUST ACTIVATED

THEY SPENT A WHOLE WEEK TRYING TO FUGURE OUT WHO WAS THE PRETTY BEST FRIEND BETWEEN IWA AND OIKAWA, ALSO MATSU AND HANAMAKI AHHAHAHAAH

your third years never made you feel insecure

like if you think idk listening to btr was weird because someone in the past made you feel like it be sure the next day they WILL PLAY FUCKING BIG TIME RUSH IN PRACTICE ONLY FOR YOU TO VIBE WITH THEM

also they all four have this little thought that they have to be the ones who protect you

in the court you looked out for them, outside of it they were the ones who did that

if you were teased or someone even had the audacity to make fun of you it could go three ways

you stoping kyoutani and yahaba because they were so ready to throw hands

matsukawa, hanamaki and kunimi just taking you out of there and rather say positive thinks about you

or oikawa and iwaizumi behind you giving the saltiest and meanest glares to whoever dared talking you that way and saying “and you still wonder why people don’t like you?, ” then iwaizumi says “you are right oikawa, you piece of crap have your entire life to be a jerk. take a day off your stupidity won’t left anyways”

god you sure loved those guys

BUT

as it can be really useful sometimes there were other times were they become so annoying

specially when it’s about someone liking you.

like romantic styles

i live for the idea that the vb team had obviously fangirls, oikawa mostly. but you also did

like yeah the fangirls of oikawa and the boys envied you

but the guys in aoba johsai high envied the volleyball team even more

god bless the poor guy or girl who DARES to ask you out

like please someone stop them 😭

on valentine’s day you came to practice a bit late just because you needed to figure it out how to organize all the fucking love letters and the chocolates and flowers that you got over the day.

oikawa was already worried as he always waited for you to start, and so were the guys so they decided to warm up a bit more to wait.

you crossed the door with thousands of gifts and all of that barely catching the ones which you dropped. because at this point you did not even try to hide it from the boys, you just wanted them to start practice.

he looked at you and knew exactly what that meant. he received this every once in a while, but god what was that feeling in his chest when some other people like you?

iwaizumi felt that too, that weird feeling not wanting anyone to think about you that wayyyyy

the rest of the boys had divided opinions but still you were their manager.

“so did all this came from...”

“yes matsu...”

“okay but for scientific purposes we need the names”

“HANAMAKI NO”

poor boys, they just are all scared that you’ll leave them because of someone

what a dramatic queens they are all

some of them didn’t like it bc they also had a big crush on you

so what they do is that they gatekeep anyone from you

like oml if they ever catched you and a girl or guy and they knew they liked you they constantly beg for your attention.

and it’s not only because they are being dramatic but also because they remember last year when you went out with some random dude and broke your heart like

they almost killed that guy

so they wanted you to feel happy and safe

to them? honestly you are the light of their life.

they dedicate every game to you, they take care of you, they listen to you, they brag about you, they love you

because honestly you did all that for them first

and ever since then they made sure to return that to you.

[heli0s-writes]

lights up*

A/N: Stucky (primarily Steve)/Reader. 2k words of idkwhatthisisi’msorry. There was a prompt from six months ago that I wrote this for but I lost the message and I can’t remember! All mistakes are my own, please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

You wake up in scattered shock.

Knee-jerk reaction to fast hands sliding between your thighs, fingers carelessly ticking sensitive skin.

You wake up to a groggy voice, slurred with sleep and raspy-raw.

“Baby,” it croaks from between your legs, “Honey, sweetheart, sugar. Please, please, please let me eat your pussy.”

Wha—

A few disbelieving blinks as you scrabble for your bearings—can’t see shit—still dark—head throbbing.

“Oh god, I wanna sosososo bad,” and then hands are between your knees, spreading your legs apart. “So… damn... tasty. Uh-huh… Come to daddy.”

Who the fuck is—damn it, Bucky.

In the dead hour of four-something when nothing should be moving so intentionally, an unsteady moan tumbles out of him when he starts groping for your ass.

“Buck!” You whisper, kicking your leg to shake him off. Grabbing the covers with one hand, you reach under with the other, swatting his head and trying to get a firm hold on him. Slippery fucking man.

He pauses for a second before his body goes limp, half hanging off the foot of the bed and you groan at his weight. Idiot boy. Two hundred pounds of horny somnambulist dropping like an anchor on your poor legs.

Fiddling now with how to get him back up to his regular spot, you try to do it quietly, the warmth radiating next to your left shoulder a compelling incentive. Even with your wits barely about you, you know better than to wake—

“Whassit? Whas goin’ on?”

Steve. Ah.

“Nothing,” you sigh, reaching over and stroking his arm absently, one foot tapping against Bucky’s waist to urge him upward. “He’s just sleep-talking again.”

Steve makes a groggy noise of comprehension. “Sleep-talking or sleep-fucking?”

“Just sleeping now. Ugh… didn’t mean to wake you.”

He’d come in late again—meetings and paperwork keeping him well after hours. Not even able to do it from home, which would have been nice. At least here you could make sure he was eating, or drinking enough water, or at least be in the presence of good company.

Instead, you and Buck watched a movie, took a few rounds of shots (because he likes the taste and how you look dancing all over the coffee table), fooled around in the kitchen, and turned in around two—Steve nowhere in sight. Some jobs were Captain-Only, which meant you’d have to make peace with being useless.

That’s generally not a task that goes over well. The amount of untamed energy Bucky exudes without Steve’s guidance is… close to being categorized as a natural disaster and trying to stay up with him is always a double-edged sword. Lots of fun, sure, but he requires less sleep than you do and can finagle you into getting piss drunk with a single smirk.  

“Wish you’d been more responsible.” Bone-tired and Steve’s still bossy. His arm is heavy as it snakes over your tummy. “You know he needs direction.”

“Hey, I tried.”

“Issat right? That why your panties’re on the counter? Shirt in the sink, too. Come home close to four and still gotta clean up after the two of you.”

His raspy breath tickles, plump lips crushed just below your ear—enough to start a chain reaction of shudders.

“Go back to sleep,” you huff, embarrassed. It was only a few hours ago so your head’s still a bit fuzzy—vague memory of playful touches before hearing, hop up, baby, from Bucky. And you, tittering and zealous the whole way, kissing him like he’d never been kissed before.

YouTube blinking on the T.V., stuck on some ad because the streaming’s a snail’s pace from when Steve set up the internet and tried to pinch pennies at the same time. Bucky’s specially crafted “Wine, Dine, and Sixty-Nine” playlist refusing to load even half a song afterwards so neither of you could spare your neighbors from hearing all the noises.

Hopefully the laughter was loudest, and not the primal fucking, or the crashing when you slipped off the counter and knocked Bucky on his ass.  

You giggle at that. Years and years together and some nights still feel brand new.

“Have fun without me?”

There’s no real jealousy in Steve’s voice, but there is greed behind the question. A single night away and he acts like he’s never been kissed either.

Your eyes start fluttering when his fingers curl around your hipbone. Je-sus. Hell. It’s too late—early—for this.

You grumble his name, asking him to save it for a couple more hours when your brain doesn’t feel pried free, but, Captain-Only mode activated and he’s not deterred. A bloodhound on a fresh trail.

The hand on your hip turns inward and you’re suddenly aware of him pressed against your body, that hot line of him, pulsing on your upper thigh. He tilts forward, one knee rubbing up your leg. Bucky stirs a little and makes another declaration about how he’s fit for the CEO position of Eating Your Ass, but nothing more after that.

“He do you good?” Steve wonders, apparently not giving a fuck about whether Bucky’s dead or alive down there and instead only worried about repositioning you, rolling you on your side, “That why you’re so happy to get me out of the house? So you two can fool around unchecked as much as you want?”

“Steve, you know damn well—"

His hand slips around the side of your neck, four thick fingers drumming over the ridges of your throat. “Watch your mouth,” he whispers, “before you get yourself into any more trouble.”

He gets mean without enough sleep. And no one would ever guess, but other than working over some poor punching bag that’ll never see the light of day after he gets his hands on it, Captain America likes to fuck it out. You and Buck have properly come out of a few sessions barely alive, feeling like two ends of a slinky that’s taken one too many tumbles down a flight of stairs.

You squirm as he palms your bottom with his free hand, kneading the bare flesh a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts can’t cover.

“Gotta be quiet,” he tells you gently, “Can’t wake him, can we.” Christ help you. What a time to play a game. You mumble under your breath, “Do I have a choice?”

A prod at your already sore entrance, and Steve says, annoyingly convinced, “I think you’ve already made your choice.”

He stills for a second when Bucky flops around on the mattress and then he starts pressing his mouth to your back, your shoulder, other hand holding you steady with expertise. It’s Steve’s favorite position when he wants to be in charge—you, writhing and turned away, usually leaned about 50 degrees and pawing at Bucky’s chest—this morning, feebly snatching sheets instead.

It doesn’t take any buildup. He’s achingly ready; you’re willingly wet. Clothes moved just enough out of the way and his two fingers slide upward, pushing barely to spread you before he quickly replaces it with something much thicker. It’s only been a few seconds. He’s too fast for you to get a word in edgewise, your brain still muddled, body cooperative.

“Huh,” Steve mumbles, slowly feeling his way into position, “A bit fucked loose, aren’t you?”

“Steve,” you hiss in reply, clenching up reflexively the same time mortification bursts across your scrunched- up face. “Don’t say that.”

“Hush, baby.”

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder.” And he’s evil incarnate, you swear. Satan himself packaged up in the neat body of a demigod. He rolls his hips slowly until the tops of his thighs are pressed against your ass, fingers holding so tight you think he’s going to spear right into bone. “Stay still or you’re gonna knee Buck in the cheek.”

You twist your head around, instead, shaking your chin free from his hand, hoping that once he sees your pitiful expression, he’ll find it in his heart to maybe not pound you into oblivion with bells on.

Of course, Steve’s not looking anywhere but down the line of your back and further to where he’s opening you up, bottom lip tucked into his teeth.

You constantly rib him about how he’s making up for all the years he spent with the two working eyes of a mole so now he’ll break his neck to watch. Bucky’s confirmed it multiple times to Steve’s chagrin, cackling at the way Steve goes purple defending himself. You love the stories they tell and retell; you try to spend most your time making up for all those years you weren’t there to find out.

Who isn’t in this relationship? Violently horny like teenagers, the three of you, spending every idle hour mishandling for each other like it’s the first time. Excitement primeval like animals in heat, apparently instinctual enough for one of you to do it in his sleep. Years and years and it still feels brand new.

The bed’s rocking surprisingly moderately for Steve’s usual pace, and it’s a bit heartwarming to know that he’s doing it because he really doesn’t want to wake Bucky, but he ramps up his game. He starts whispering again, meaner, hotter, the damn mouth on Steve Rogers continuing to give you hell this early morning.

He pinches your nipple hard, letting you gasp at the brief sting before he goes back up to your chin, your mouth, and then he puts the entire hand over it.

“Quiet. Not another fucking word out of you. Gotta teach you how to behave this morning, don’t I?” He’s working himself up, working you over, even pulling you back on him by the hips and then wiggling you up and down on him like he’s adjusting you on a saddle. Motherfucker.

Your toes curl, knees grinding, legs folding up to get simultaneously closer and away from him and it feels—it feels so excruciatingly good—the effortless glide of his cock, the burn of friction dragging itself out the more you wriggle. Whatever indelicate sounds falling out of your mouth are getting mashed back in, Steve ramming himself into your body, shaking your brain further loose.

He’s probably louder than he intends to be—you know how he gets when he’s close— bombs could be dropping two feet away and Steve Rogers would hear nothing but the roar of his own wanting, chasing it until he crashes into bits. You’re chasing too, both hands clamped around his wrist, arching your back to near breaking.

“Yeah,” he rasps out, “That’s it, that’s good, baby. Ugnn—back up on me, stay—right there.”

More uneven jerking, he releases your face and starts rubbing your clit, saying, you like it like this? Like me givin’ it to you good like this? And you’re shaking in his arms, the both of you tipping over the edge.

-

“I wasn’t serious,” Steve says later after a few moments, lips all soft and gentle on your neck, rather than fierce like before, “Bout you bein’—” you can feel him shrugging, “Y’know… fucked loose.” He whispers the last part like it’s a sin.

You snort, “You turning decent on me? After railing me to death?”

“You sound pretty lively to me.” He pokes your side, “I just… woke up and remembered how much I missed you last night.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got both of us here—shit!”

“Steeeeeve,” and the sound of it slaps both you back to reality. Sleep-smashed, more tipsy than any alcohol could make him, Bucky’s giggles break the steady pattern of muffled conversation. His vibranium hand pats around for a new destination, undeterred by the disruption of his previous mission.

You can’t believe it. He’s still asleep.

“Steeeevie,” Bucky mewls again, “Lemme— lemme suck your dick, sweetheart.”

What a menace. Your shoulders start quivering as you poorly hold it back, pfffftppblffpt’s kickstarting Steve into a tizzy right alongside you.

Bursting laughter finally wakes him up. Bucky yelps once, twice, flailing like a cat caught unawares and rolls himself right off the goddamn bed.

Two hundred pounds of newly conscious pervert wallops the hardwood floor and you’re sure the entire apartment complex—if they didn’t hear the ruckus last night—certainly heard it this morning.

[cinnaminsvga]

🌷 social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories 🌷

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I KINDA RUSHED IT AT THE END BUT HOPEFULLY IT MAKES SENSE?? anyway, yoongi didn’t do anything stupid (depending on your definition of stupid) so no need to worry about him being cringey,,, i spared you all from the secondhand embarrassment but i won’t be so kind next time!! anyway... enjoy || W.C. 3.8K

prev // part 11 // next masterlist here.

By the time Seokjin’s phone begins to ring, Yoongi can already feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. The familiar coil of anxiety tightens around his throat like a vice, and Yoongi has to remember how to breathe to keep himself from fainting like a corseted Victorian lady. 

“Well, that must be her!” Seokjin chimes, promptly declining your call without a glance. Yoongi catches a glimpse of your contact photo anyway: it’s an unflattering angle of you from below your neck, giving the illusion of a multitude of chins. If it were any other time, Yoongi might have smiled like a lovesick fool. 

“Don’t you dare let her in here,” Yoongi seethes. He tries to sound menacing, but the effect is severely diminished by how badly his voice cracks. He tugs at Seokjin by the sleeve, but the older man refuses to budge. “Hyung, I’m serious. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Are you done live-tweeting your confusion now? Finally got the memo? I always knew you were a smart boy,” Seokjin laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder with his tomato sauce-covered tongs. “Since we’re on the same page now, why don’t you change clothes while I finish cooking? I know your entire wardrobe is composed of the free t-shirts you got from job fairs, but it would do well to wear a clean, unstained shirt.”

Yoongi swipes at him, hissing like the catboy that he is. “You’re the one who wiped shit on me, asshole. And yes, I figured out what you are trying to do. You think you’re so slick, but I know that you’re just trying to embarrass me in front of Y/N!”

Seokjin shrugs. “It isn’t like I’m trying to be slick. I embarrass you all the time. Besides, I’m setting you up on a date with the love of your life! You should be thanking me, if I’m being honest.”

Yoongi stammers, his jaw dropping in shock. “Love of my–?”

Seokjin waves his tongs in his face, silencing him. “Oh, hush. Don’t even try to hide it, Yoongi. I figured out that you like Y/N. Your weird behavior finally makes sense! After years of you avoiding her, I always thought you were just bad at forming human connections, but turns out you’ve got a gigantic heart boner for my best friend!”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Yoongi groans, smashing his head against his kitchen counter. He hopes a few brain cells might have died, just so he can stop processing the words coming out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Actually, just please stop talking.”

Seokjin snorts in exasperation as if Yoongi was the dramatic one between them. “Point is, this is a favor that I’ve chosen to grant you from the goodness of my heart! As I said, I’m giving you the love life you deserve! So stop whining and get moving before Y/N gets up here.”

“There isn’t any goodness nor a heart inside of you. And more importantly, when was the last time you did anything for free, you capitalist bastard!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-chi. You’ve already paid me for my services by offering me front row seats to watch you lose your fucking mind. And that, my friend, is priceless.”

“Aha! So you do admit that this is all just a ploy to humiliate me!” Yoongi shouts. He grabs a knife from his scabbard, pointing it threateningly at Seokjin. He doesn’t even flinch, instead gently guiding Yoongi by the wrist over to the chopping board where he had placed some garlic cloves beforehand. Without prompting, Yoongi’s hand begins to move, his culinary instincts taking over.

“Yes and no,” Seokjin admits as he grabs Yoongi’s cast iron pan from the top shelf (which he has never gotten to use since he bought it, ever since Seokjin had borrowed it once and placed it too high for him to retrieve.) “I’m honestly trying to help you out here, my dude. Besides, even if shit hits the fan, Y/N isn’t gonna think any less of you. She’s too much of an idiot to resent anyone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Yoongi huffs, eyeing him with intense vitriol. “Can’t say I understand how she’s gone this long without killing you.” The next time the two of them are alone together in the wilderness, he can’t promise that his hands won’t find their way around Seokjin’s throat, and it won’t be sexy.

“Hmm. Yeah, definitely,” he says, nodding absentmindedly. As he begins to season the steak, he hands the cast iron pan to Yoongi. “Start preheating this. We need it to be smoking hot before we can place the steak on there.”

“I know how to cook a steak, fucker. And who said you’re allowed to serve my Wagyu steak? I was saving that for a special occasion!”

Seokjin looks up from his ministrations long enough to raise a brow at him. “So going on your first ever date with Y/N isn’t considered a special occasion?”

Yoongi falters, eyes widening. “N-no, that’s not what I mean!” he defends hotly, but he quickly snaps out of it. “Wait, no! This is not a date! Not when both parties did not agree to any of this!”

Seokjin pauses from his cooking to place a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “I mean, Y/N agreed to it, so are you going to reject her? Huh? Too good for her and my spaghetti?”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, she did not agree to this. She doesn’t even know you’re forcing her to eat lunch with me.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Seokjin challenges, puffing his cheeks. “You don’t even know what I told her!”

Except I do know what you said, Yoongi thinks darkly to himself. And more importantly, I know what she thinks you were implying. He is pretty sure that the words “crush on him during high school” have seared themselves underneath his eyelids forevermore.

But instead, he says, “Yeah, well. If what you told her is as vague as what you told me, I have a pretty good hunch that this is going to blow up into a huge misunderstanding.”

Like the absolute menace that he is, all Seokjin does is shrug nonchalantly. “Suppose you are right… Who cares? It’s not like the two of you are strangers, so I’m sure this is going to go great!”

“What the fuck? She is a stranger! I’ve literally only spoken two words to her in the past four years!” Yoongi seethes, his temple throbbing from an oncoming migraine. 

Seokjin ignores him, as per his want. “Grab that plate, will you? I gotta plate the pasta before Y/N starts calling again to let her into the building,” he says, nudging the tongs into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi squawks, quickly turning the stove off to keep the food from burning. 

Seokjin tears off his (read: Yoongi’s) apron off, wiping his hands on his jeans with a quick smile. “Great! While you finish up here, I’ll distract Y/N for a bit in my room before I lead her in here, alright? You better hurry unless you want to keep her waiting!”

“Oh, like how you kept her waiting downstairs for the past–” Yoongi checks his wall clock, “–seven minutes?”

Seokjin cackles madly, rushing out the door. “Well, that’s where you and I differ, Yoongi-chi! I give no shits about how Y/N thinks about me, so good luck!” After sending Yoongi three flying kisses for good measure, Seokjin slams the door shut, leaving Yoongi to simmer in his bad life choices.

The worst choice that he’s ever made? Being friends with one (1) Kim Seokjin.

“God, just end me,” Yoongi mutters, placing his $80 steak on his pan. It sizzles deliciously, much like how his (nonexistent) love life is about to get burnt to a crisp.

x x x x x

“Took you long enough.” You watch as Seokjin taunts you with a funny little dance by the lobby of his dormitory, the building receptionist not even batting an eye at his eccentricity. That’s the sad side effect of living in close proximity with Seokjin: you start getting desensitized to most things, not even flinching at the sight of a man without a functioning central nervous system.

Seokjin slides his card to open the door, finally allowing you entry. “Sorry. Got busy preparing your lunch! Which by the way, you should be thanking me for.”

“The moment I thank you for anything is the day that you slip on your own cum and die,” you grouse, nudging past him to get on the elevator first. You punch the button for the 5th floor before rapidly trying to close the elevator door on him. Unfortunately, Seokjin makes it in time before his ass gets clamped by the two steel doors.

“Thinking about my cum? Oh my, Y/N… I know you’ve had a dry spell for too long, but I didn’t think you’d be that desperate for some of my butter,” Seokjin says, leaning closely to wink at you.

Against your will, your cheeks brighten furiously, weakly pushing Seokjin away from you. “You wish. At least I don’t spend my spare time loitering outside the campus gym to ogle all the sweaty hot people.”

“And the invitation to join me still stands by the way!” Seokjin singsongs, leaping out of the elevator once you reach his floor. You walk side by side until you reach his room, but you catch him shooting a furtive glance at his next-door neighbor.

“Is Yoongi joining us for lunch?” you ask, failing to keep your curiosity from showing in your voice. If Yoongi does end up joining you for lunch (which has never happened in the past four years, convincing you that he must have a personal grudge against you), then at least it can confirm to you straight away that whatever this “date” is just another prank by Seokjin. You don’t know if you should be disappointed or grateful if it is just a joke.

Seokjin beams in response, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what? He is going to join us, actually!” 

He had been in the midst of unlocking his dorm when he changes direction, leading you to Yoongi’s door instead. He rifles through his other keys, and you notice one of them looks similar to his own house key, except with a Hello Kitty sticker on it. He pulls that key out and promptly unlocks Yoongi’s door without missing a beat.

What kind of weirdo must Yoongi be to give Seokjin a spare key to his dorm? You’d rather shit out a cactus than let Seokjin have free entry to your home whenever he pleases.

You hesitate by Yoongi’s door, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Um, Seokjin? Are you sure it’s okay for me to–?”

“HONEY I’M HOOOOME!” Seokjin’s loud guffaw cuts you off before you can finish your question. He bursts through the door and leaves you by the hallway, and you watch as he nearly tackles Yoongi to the ground.

Yoongi, despite looking like he’s half the size of Seokjin on a good day, manages to keep upright despite how his back is now bent parallel to the floor. “Get off me!” he yells, roughly pushing Seokjin off of him. 

Seokjin tumbles to the floor, but the shit-eating grin on his face hardly wavers. He points at you by the doorway, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Look, Yoongi-chi! I brought a guest!”

Yoongi spares you half a glance before returning his attention to whatever he was cooking. “I suppose you did.”

Okay, this date is definitely a joke. Why the hell did you even think for a second that Seokjin might have been into you?

“Um,” you stutter nervously. You grind your heel into the carpet self-consciously, your gaze downcast. “Hello, Yoongi. Sorry for the intrusion, by the way…”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies, albeit a little curtly. He clears his throat, his face still tilted away from you so you can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed or not. 

You point a glare at Seokjin, who looks shamelessly pleased with himself. After taking a deep breath, you take your first steps into Yoongi’s home before gently closing the door.

As you look around at your new surroundings, you notice that his home is a lot cleaner than you would have expected, though you’re not exactly sure what you should have expected in the first place. It’s minimalist, but not in a barren type of way; it’s seems like Yoongi is fond of simple designs more than anything. It’s certainly a nice change of pace compared to Seokjin’s abomination of a room, with his vaguely yellow-stained bedsheets. 

The smell of freshly cooked pasta and meat being grilled catches your senses immediately. You watch as Yoongi flips over a hefty piece of steak, the aroma causing your mouth to salivate instantly. 

“I… What is… Huh?” you start, not knowing what to ask. You catch Seokjin snickering quietly to himself, but promptly shuts up when you mime punching him in the dick.

“It’ll be finished in a second. Why don’t you sit down?” Yoongi announces quietly, his gaze still fixed away from you. Confused but left with no other choice, you tentatively make your way to his couch, unable to relax as your spine remains ramrod straight and your jaw stays clenched. 

You hear Seokjin shuffling behind you until he eventually makes his way to sit with you, plopping onto the couch as if it were his home. “Ah… I’m soooo hungry. Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asks you, his brow wiggling too much to be considered normal. Either that, or he was having a stroke.

“Yeah, it does,” you say, greatly uncomfortable. You peek at Yoongi once more, who is still dutifully attending to the steak. Making sure he isn’t looking, you twist Seokjin by the nipple, causing the elder to let out a high-pitched squeal. To an outsider, it might have almost sounded like he was being pleasured. 

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” Seokjin whines, rubbing his tenderized nipples. 

“You know what that was for,” you hiss, keeping your volume low. “What the hell are we doing here? Why are you making Yoongi cook for us?!”

“For us? It’s for you!” Seokjin snaps back. “Didn’t you say you would only come over if you got fed? Well, this is how you get fed!”

“I was under the assumption that you would be feeding me, not him!” you seethe. You check back on Yoongi, who still hasn’t looked your way once. “The poor boy… No wonder he doesn’t like me! He must think I’m as bad as you!”

Seokjin snorts. “Of course he likes you! This whole lunch date wouldn’t have even fucking happened if he wasn’t assdeep in lo–”

“Lunch is finished,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, his spatula rattling loudly against his pan. The sudden noise makes you jump away from Seokjin, who appears vaguely triumphant. 

“T-thanks,” you stutter, standing up and resisting the random urge to shake his hand. Everything about this situation is so tense and awkward that it feels like you’re being filmed for a prank Youtube video or something. Knowing Seokjin, the odds of that happening are great. 

“That’s my cue to leave then! Bye! You guys have fun!” Seokjin says, jumping to his feet. 

You vaguely hear Yoongi gasp quietly when you launch yourself at Seokjin, just narrowly keeping from escaping. “Oh no, you don’t! Who said you could leave? You’re not going anywhere!”

But like the slippery snake that he is, Seokjin manages to wriggle out of your arms and hop over Yoongi’s coffee table to get to the door. “Too bad! I have classes to get to, so I gotta blast! Use this time to get to know each other or whatever it is that kids do these days,” he says, winking salaciously. With one final sputter of (evil) laughter, Seokjin makes his exit, leaving you and Yoongi to fester in some good ol’ fashioned discomforting silence.

“Um,” you say, just as Yoongi opens his mouth to say something too.

“No, you go first–”

“You go ahead–”

The two of you pause mid-sentence, staring at each other. You grin sheepishly at him, motioning for him to speak first. 

He returns your smile half-heartedly. “So, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for letting Seokjin rope you into this. I tried stopping him, but… You know how he is.”

You laugh, sounding a little crazed even to your own ears. That’s the longest sentence you’ve ever heard him speak! 

“Yeah, believe me… I am intimately aware of how he is. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” you joke. 

Amazingly, your little quip makes his smile widen, his cheeks puffing up imperceptibly. “Glad we can agree that Seokjin has the amazing ability to ruin people’s lives. It’s almost welcoming to find solidarity in a shared experience.”

“Shared experience? Try shared trauma. That dude is a walking serotonin sucker,” you say dryly. 

You don’t think what you said was remotely funny enough to warrant a laugh, but it causes Yoongi to let out a loud snort regardless. But the amusement on his face is short-lived, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He slaps a hand to his mouth, breaking eye contact once more. “Oh fuck, that was so unflattering,” he groans, clearly mortified.

His blush, multiplied by his shy demeanor, makes you want to coo at him, but you doubt he’d take that too kindly. So instead, you change the subject to save him. “So, uhh… The food? You don’t have to give me any, by the way. I wouldn’t want you to waste your lunch on me or anything.”

Yoongi snaps out of his previous embarrassment, returning to the more familiar stoic expression you’ve come to associate with Yoongi. “No, that’s fine. Seokjin–er, rather… I made enough for two people, so it would be a waste if you didn’t eat at least some of it. But I don’t care either way if you want it or not.”

For two people? you wonder. So Yoongi had known Seokjin wasn’t going to join for lunch?

“Oh, if it’s fine with you…” you trail off, meekly making your way towards him. The spaghetti and steak look absolutely delicious, though you don’t need to tell him that when your stomach speaks for you. “Oh shit, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, your cheeks heating up this time.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Haven’t eaten breakfast yet, I assume? That’s pretty stupid if you ask me. Don’t you have class until 5? How the hell would you have survived until then?”

You choke in surprise. Where did all that sass suddenly come from? “Excuse me? I’m not stupid! I would’ve been fine with a sandwich from the cafeteria if you must know!” you say indignantly. You’re too busy being offended that you don’t fully comprehend his words, failing to notice how he had known you had class until 5 in the first place.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi starts shifting through his cupboards and pulling out a pink tupperware. He begins to load them with food, nearly overflowing the containers with how much he tries to stuff in them.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“Packing your lunch. You have class in a bit, yeah? It’s almost 11:50 and it takes around 15 minutes to get to the main campus. You won’t have time to eat here and make it in time,” he says, pointing you with a look. “Wait. Did you have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah? So?” you ask, defensive. “Are you gonna call me stupid again for not having caffeine or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “If you’re caffeinated, then that means it should only take you 7 minutes to get to class.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” you exclaim, but you can’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. You’re kinda weird, did you know that?”

“You barely even know me, so how would you know?” he retorts. He finishes placing food into the tupperware and promptly clicks the lid in place. He offers it to you, smirking slightly.

You huff, but your ire is all for show. You aren’t actually annoyed by him–he’s just… different from what you expected. A little shy, a little rough around the edges… but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You understand why Seokjin loves to torment him; he seems like a fun person to tease. 

“That can be amended,” you respond, taking the tupperware from him. Your fingers graze the backs of his hand by accident, causing him to quickly retract his hand as though he’d been burned. You nearly drop the container in surprise, but luckily your reflexes save your precious food just in time. 

“Sorry. About… you know.” Yoongi gesticulates wildly, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. 

You smile secretly to yourself, amused. Ah. He’s like a human seesaw. Blushy one second and grumpy the next. “No worries, Yoongi. I’ll be sure to return this container soon, so don’t you worry.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Keep it if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Says the guy who has an entire cupboard full of color coordinating food containers. “Roger that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi walks you out the door, pausing outside the hallway with you. “Do you…” he hesitates, swallowing loudly enough for you to hear. “Do you… want me to walk you out?”

His sudden offer almost makes you want to laugh, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, you just shake your head with a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost. I think I remember where the door is.”

He pouts, his lips jutting out cutely. “Yeah, well. I was just trying to be nice, but you do you.”

You giggle lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You were more than nice,” you say, winking for added effect. It does more than you thought it would, causing Yoongi’s cheeks to bloom once more.

With one last wave, you make your way out of the dormitory, your heart a little lighter than before. 

“Huh. That was weird.” You glance at the pink little tupperware in your hands, its warmth keeping your hands safe from the winter chill. As you walk to class, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a shy boy with soft hands and even softer cheeks. Maybe Tuesday isn’t going to be so bad after all.

[abundanceofnots]

a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.

“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.

Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”

It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.

“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”

Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.

This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.

The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.

In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.

He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.

It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.

This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.

Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.

Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”

“For us. Definitely.”

They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.

How the fuck did they get here?

“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”

“Okay!”

With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.

“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.

“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”

“Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”

“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.

Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”

“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”

“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”

“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”

Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.

“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.

“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”

Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”

“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”

That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.

“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”

“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.

“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.

“Hah. No.”

“You told Mickey yet?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”

From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.

“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”

The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.

“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.

“Polite,” Lip appraises.

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”

“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”

They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.

“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”

Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”

“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”

Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.

“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.

Ian gives his brother a pointed look.

“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”

“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”

“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.

“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”

“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.

“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”

“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.

“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.

“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.

“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Told you he was.”

“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”

“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.

Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”

Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”

Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”

Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”

Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”

“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”

“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.

Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.

“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”

Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.

Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?

[katsukisbimbo]

Kuroo x Volleyball Player! Reader

Kuroo Tetsurou x Volleyball Player! Reader

wordcount: 3,087

genre: strangers-to-lovers au with fluff, crack and a little bit of smut :)))

summary: meeting kuroo tetsurou might be the best thing that has ever happened to you

first of all

kuroo pissed you off to no end

absolutely pissed you off

the first time you met him was when you were a first year

your brother keishin has asked you to come with them for the practice match they had with nekoma

the moment you got to school you had to DASH to go to the washroom because you had to pEee

gosh

curse your tiny bladder

when you went out everyone was already on the bus

sigh

you were gonna have to sit with someone you don’t know

because FOR SURE

your stupid brother keishin would be sitting next to takeda-sensei

the moment you hopped on the bus

everyone suddenly became quiet

0.0

everyone was jus like

uh

who’s this cutie

is she lost

she’s from shiratorizawa what’s she doing here

huh

and noya and tanaka are just screaming at this point

“wHO IS THIS GODDESS WHO DECIDED TO BLESS US WITH HER PRESENCE?!?!? I LOVE YOU PLEASE SIT NEXT TO ME RYU GET OUT NO I DONT CARE GET OUT”

cue tanaka landing on the floor

“nOYA-SAN WHY”

and you’re just like

lmao what

and literally all the seats are taken except for the guy who literally yeeted his bald friend into the next dimension

sigh

i guess you had to sit next to the cutie huh

you look at your brother pleading for help

but he just ignores you and talks to sensei

sIGH

your brother was so thirsty that he didn’t even CARE if these boys ate you alive

gosh

it’s okay

it be like that

f in the chat for y/n

oKAY enough self pitying

you reluctantly sit beside the really loud guy

“hi my names ukai y/n! what’s your name?”

“m-my name is n-nishinoya yuu”

cue noya looking like a literal tomato

“nice to meet you!! i’m excited to work with you nishinoya-san! if i may ask, what year are you in?”

“iM in sEcond yEar”

gosh noya’s so proud

“oH you’re my senpai then!! it’s really nice to meet you senpai!! i hope we have a good trip”

GAHSJDJSHS

you called him senpai

without him asking you to

GOSH

could you be any more perfect

“agHjsjdhsjajszjJAK”

“those aren’t words...”

“...”

“...”

and at that point noya was brain fried so you just put on your earphones and chilled

...

...

*gagging*

“hINATAAGAHAJSKSHS”

what

what was going on

you turned your head

and you saw this orange haired babie throwing up on the bald guy who got yeeted

and suddenly

chaos ensued

everyone was screaming because of the stench

you were gagging so hard that you felt your breakfast coming back up

but your seat buddy was having the time of his life laughing at his two friends who were having a dilemma

gosh

today was gonna be crazy

finally you guys had finally arrived at nekoma and honestly that’s as the most chaotic car ride you’ve ever experienced

but luckily on the way you’ve made yourself familiar with everyone on the team

especially the third year cuties

and no you did not say that to their faces because you’re shy :((

you guys finally get out of the bus and you see

a god

with crazy looking hair

“well if it isn’t the crows” “did you have a good ride here you country bumpkins?”

and daichi’s bout to lose it

“kuroo-san nice to see you again”

and you can definitely feel the tension in the air

was it just you or is it hot in here

kuroo suddenly turned to look at you and honestly you’ve never been more intimidated in your life because wow

he’s beautiful

“who’s the pretty girl daichi-san? is she your girlfriend?”

“no no she’s our couch’s sister”

“hi i’m ukai y/n, nice to meet you”

and you shake his hand and you’re SHOCKED

“kuroo tetsurou, likewise”

his hand is so warm n rough oh god

you suddenly wonder what it would feel like to have his hands slowly wrap around your throat as he starts to thru-

NO

nO DIrtY ThOuGhTs

bad

bad y/n

you’ve been so caught up in your day dream that you didn’t realize that you were still hold kuroos hand

and you look up to see kuroo looking like a smug little shit as if he was saying

‘are you ever gonna let go or?’

and it really made you wanna hit him

really badly

you wanted to punch his mouth

with your mouth

GAHSJDGA

stOp

okay anyways

you snatch your hands away from kuroo and he just smirks at you like a smug little bastard

“what’s wrong kitten? didn’t wanna let go of my hand?”

at this point you’re too flustered to even talk so you take it as the time to back off and just let kuroo be a little fuckhead

but suddenly you’re snatched by tanaka and noya

you somehow end up bumping into kiyoko and you’re just like “omg i’m so sorry kiyoko-san i didn’t mea-“

“don’t worry about it y/n-chan, accidents happen”

and wow

wow

a goddess

now you see what tanaka and noya see

she’s beautiful

maybe you do want the best of both worlds.....

...

...

ANYWAYS

tanaka and noya end up showing you off to their equally as weird friend taketora and of course like the normal person you are you greet him and introduce yourself

but before he even gets the chance to talk kiyoko’s already pulling you away telling you that she needed some help with setting up some of their gear

and of course like the puppy you are you follow her because yes you’re in love with her

i mean

who isn’t

lesbi honest

everyone’s a simp for kiyoko

moving on

finally they’ve started to play a match

and you’re very impressed

especially by hinata and kageyama because wow their skill was amazing

and hinata’s jumps were crazy

obviously you played volleyball yourself being ukai’s grand daughter

and you weren’t that bad

considering the fact that you play for japan’s u19 team with ushijima

who was a very close senpai to you

so close to the point where you’d call him your older brother

rip keishin

back to the game

everyone in karasuno was very promising and you were getting excited with the ideas that were flooding into your head

but nekomas not too bad either

they were pretty solid with their defence and some people might think that it’s all about the attacks but

your attack doesn’t mean anything if the ball doesn’t touch the floor in the court

you were very impressed with the bedhead’s receives a n d blocking

every time he managed a good save or blocked anyone he would always glance in your direction

and it may or may not have made you feel nervous because who doesn’t get nervous when an attractive person looks at you

sadly

the game finished rather quickly

at this point everyone was already cleaning up and of course you decided to help

you thought that you would be able to play just a little bit but your brother just wanted you to familiarize yourself with the teams before you went on the week long training camp with them

which was in two weeks

:)

you were trying to take the volleyball net down until a tall figure comes up behind you and takes the net from you

you turn around and guess who it is

kuroo frocking tetsurou

what a surprise

“don’t worry about it peaches i got it”

wha

did this man just call you PEACHES

peaches as in the scary girl who goes to famous peoples houses?

i think NOT sir

“pEACHES? what is that supposed to mean??! huh?!?”

“woah woah calm down babe, it’s just a nickname. i call you peaches cuz you smell like peaches”

ohhh

okay

that’s fine

“i’ve been wondering though, if you smell like peaches then would you taste like peaches??”

wHAT

wHATSGFSZHSJ

rip y/n’s remaining brain cells

“how about it doll? are you gonna give little old me a taste?”

and he’s suddenly pushing himself closer to you

and you close your eyes because it really looks like he’s about to kiss you and omg it’s like your first kiss hELP

but instead of a kiss

he just laughs at you

this man is literally bent over and CACKLING his lungs out

“you’re so cute doll, i wouldn’t kiss you without your permission. plus i gotta take you out first. wanna go on a date with me some time?”

and you’re just so caught off guard

that you can’t even manage a verbal response

like you just nod your head and then he’s ruffling you’re hair and walking away with the volleyball net

what the hell just happened

did you just score yourself a date

yes

yes you did

you go girl

sadly

it’s time for you and your babies to go

and kuroo being the good person he is

walks you guys out

but before you can get on the bus

kuroo pulls you to the side and bends down to your height to whisper in your ear

“text me sometime peaches”

and you suddenly feel him putting a piece of paper in your back pocket

then he’s pushing you onto the bus and you’re just dumbfounded

did he just touch your bum

could he not just hand it to you

not that you were complaining,,, but now you just wanna know what it would feel like if he just grabbed your bum with both of his hands while you sit on his la-

nO

BAD

BAD

BAD

gosh you have it bad for this boy

the moment you got him you debated whether to text him or not

i mean

you didn’t even look at the piece of paper yet

so you go into you back pocket and open the paper

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx text me when you get home peaches, i already miss your pretty face -kuroo’

WHY IS HE SO CUTE

you get up and start looking for your phone

and you spend like 6 minutes trying to think of what to say

but you finally settled with

hi :)

hopefully that was normal enough

and not even 1 minute later you already got a reply

hey cutie :) did you get home safe

wHY IS HE SO DARN CUTE

and your conversation goes from there

you guys literally talk about everything

from his favourite colour to the time when your leg fell in a hole and you slammed your whole body on the ground causing your ribs to shift and now whenever somebody touches the top of your chest they can feel the top of your ribs

(that was actually a true story and yes it happened to me and yes my ribs are very very fucked up but i’m still alive soooo)

by the time you were back in tokyo

you and kuroo were basically best friends

you guys texted, called, and facetimed every day

you stepped out of the bus and low and behold

it was kuroo waiting for you

“tETSUU”

you run to him and jump in his arms

and he catches you and swings you around a few times

everyone was just like

o.o

‘when did they get so close’

and your older brothers just like

>:(

this is n o t good shaggy

and kuroo introduces you to everyone

especially his buddies bokutou, akaashi, and kenma

and bokutou’s bombarding you with questions

and he asks why you’re wearing a shiratorizawa sweater

and you’re just like ‘i go to school there..’

and he’s just like

“oH YOU KNOW USHIJIMA? IM IN THE TOP 5 ACES RANKING WITH HIM IM SO COOL RIGHT”

“bokuto-san i think you’re scaring her”

“aKAAASHGHSI YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SAY ‘bokuto-san you’re so cool’”

and you and kuroo are just laughing your asses off

while kenma’s playing with his psp

pspspspspsppss

“bokuto-san you’re so cool”

“aKAAASHUDID YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY IT EARLIER”

at that point you and kuroo have already walked away

and he brings you to your room

and helps you settle down your things

gosh he’s such a gentleman

y/n was ready to risk it all for this man

“peaches you okay?”

“oH i’m fine yes yes i’m fine tetsu”

“okaaaayyyy if you say so peaches” and kuroos just going through your bag checking if you have snacks

“tetsu i don’t have any snacks in there for you”

“really? what do you mean? you do have a snack for me tho”

and you’re jus like lol no i don’t

and he’s slowly walking towards you and you highkey feel intimidated but fuck that you’re not a bussy

at this point kuroo’s sitting on your legs while his arms are slowly creeping up your sides

and in your head

you’re just like

‘ahh this is it i’m gonna have a heart attack’

and suddenly

kuroo’s tickling you and you’re crying on the floor because HSJDJH

TICKLES

“tETSU PLEASE I CANT BREATHEEHHHD”

“what’s that peach? i cant hear you”

“tETSU YOU DIPSHIT PLEASE STOPFDISHS”

“hmm i don’t know, i think i’ll stop if you say ‘nya’ for me”

“gO TO HELLSKDIS”

“come on pretty, say it for me”

you’re blushing sO HARD

“n-nya”

and kuroo just freezes up because he didn’t think that you’d actually do it

“tetsu? u ok?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“tetsu”

“o-oH yeah i’m fine silly i was just thinking”

“what were you thinking about neko-chan?”

“you.”

GAHSJDJSHSGS

he was going to be the death of you

you, kuroo, bokutou, akaashi, hinata, and tsukishima suddenly ended up at an empty gym

and you guys wanted to play a match so

why not

it was you, kuroo, and tsukki

versus bokutou, hinata, and akaashi

it was a very intense but fun game

akaashi set to bokutou and bokutou did a cross shot

which wasn’t properly blocked by tsukishima

but luckily you were there to pick it up

and kuroo set to you and you slammed it down before they could even block you

the whole gym was silent

wha

how did-

hUH

“peach what”

“what tetsu”

“since when were you so good at volleyball”

“tetsu i play for japan’s u19 team, why did you think i was here in the first place? i’m here to help you guys”

and hinata’s just yelling

“y/n-cHAN I DIDNT KNOW YOU PLAYED NO WONDER WHY YOU LOOKED SO FAMILLIAR OMGJDSI”

after you got exposed

it was only you and tetsu left in the gym

after everything was cleaned up

kuroo pulled you aside before you could leave the gym

“t-tetsu what’re you doing? the gym lights are already of-“

“shut up for one second”

o.o

ogey then

“peaches i really like you. i know that we haven’t known each other long but it feels like i’ve known you since forever. will please let me take you out”

what

...

did he just

yes he did

“t-tetsu,,, i really like you too, and i would love it if we could go out on a date sometime”

and at that moment tetsu just

“HELL YEAHHH”

and he’s getting close to you again

to the point where he’s pressing you against the wall

he cups your cheek and leans closer to your face

“peaches,, can i please kiss you right now”

“yeah”

you close your eyes as you feel tetsu’s hot breath hovering other your soft lips

gosh

this was it

your were gonna kiss tetsu

your crush

until

...

...

...

...

“gET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SISTER BRAT”

and kuroos just like

wHAT THE FUCK

it’s your brother

keishin

“nII-SAN WHY”

“gET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW Y/N”

and you sadly look up at tetsu

and he just smiles at you and gestures for you to go

until you get up on your tippy toes and kiss tetsu full on the mouth

you catch him by surprise but he quickly kisses you back

you wrap your arms around his neck and slowly work your way up into his hair until you’ve got a good grip on him

kuroos hands weren’t staying still either

his hands were slowly creeping down your sides until he grabs the back of your thighs and pulls you up and holds you against him

his hands end up on your bum

and then

he squeezes

“THAT IS IT Y/N STOP SUCKING FACE AND GET OVER HERE”

oops

[sunjaesol]

“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[stinkywinke]

Twelve Minutes

I am obsessed with twelve minutes sooo, why not make an imagine about it 🧍‍♀️

Also this is the first time I have ever used tumblr, and my grammar is very poor. I will try and get used to the way tumblr works and hopefully if I have any motivation I will start writing more :) My writing skills are bad so this is going to be choppy

Another note : The roles are reversed, so instead of the reader being the husband, its going the be the wife figuring everything.

clench ya butt cheeks

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Readers POV:

No..no, no, no, this can’t be it

As I took a step into my apartment I heard my husband in the bathroom humming a soft tune. 10 minutes. The pills. The cop. The pocket watch.

“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in”

I looked up to see h/n (Husbands name) walking towards me with a smile and pulling me in to a passionate kiss.

“I made desert, let me know if your in the mood” He stated while making his way on to the couch.

I give a quick nod signaling that I would tell him when I was ready. Quickly glancing around my home I made my way to the sink and filled up a mug of water, the floorboards creaking in a specific spot as I ambled to the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet grabbing ahold of the sleeping pills and pouring them into the mug, and going back into the living room to see h/n reading a book.

"I think its a good time for desert” I suggested

“Ok, babe” h/n replied with a sweet smile

He noticed the cup in my hand and turned around to the fridge and got the desert out. I placed the drugged mug by where h/n was sitting and got my own mug instead.

“So how was work?”

“It was alright, met a couple of new people, Its going great” I said as I saw h/n drinking his water

“How about you? How was your day?”

“Same old day I guess it just repeats itself” he said as his eyes started drooping down into a sleepy matter

Tch.. talk about repeating

“Im feeling so tired all of a sudden, Im gonna go lay down”

“Okay baby, goodnight”

As soon as I saw h/n close the bedroom door I scampered to the closet and closed the door behind me aware that the cop will be here in a few minutes

Now we wait…

“Police!, open up I have a warrant”

My breathe hitched as I heard him turn the doorknob and stepped into the house

“Hello?, anyone home?”

“Police” the cop shouted when he opened the door

“Police, I have a warrant”

He made his final call making his way into the bedroom,hearing the light switch turn on a scream came from the man as he layed unconscious on the floor. After hearing nothing but silence I crept out the door into the room, searching for the valuables from the cops uniform

The gun, 2 handcuffs, the knife, and the phone

As I did last time,Rolling him over, gripping both of his wrists and tieing them together, I remembered there was a little box with my mothers name on it.

A/N : I did change the baby clothes to a necklace, kind of like a bday gift

My hand trembled to the gift lying on the table next to the flowers, I held it and stuffed the box into my front pocket. I took my time staring at the man in awe and confusion

He’s already told me why he’s here, he told me he was a good friend of my husband’s father. He’s hiding something.

“Augh- what- you little shit”

The cop was stirring awake from the electrocution but only figuring it all together that he was handcuffed. He glared at my shoes as some kind of threat and saying words, pleading to be let go, I reached into my pocket pulling out the box and showing the man the name on the necklace

“Do you recognise this name?”

“Dahlia? Yeah I knew her so what?”

“Do you know anything about her?”

“Yeah, she was the mother of your husbands sister”

Mother of my husband’s sister? But that was my mothers name

“Just let me go you prick”

“I promise im innocent I dont have anything to do with this”

“Okay maybe if you let me go, I wont kill you” the cop stated in a cold and tone

I took the knife out of my pocket and handed him his things, he asked…

“Im here for a pocket watch very valuable… do you have it?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get it now”

Thoughts were running in my head as I went to go to the bathroom to get the strange watch

Mother of my husbands sister? Dahlia, thats my mothers name… no it can’t be.

I grasped the pocket watch in my hand, watching is slowly turn clock-wise

“Have you found it yet? I dont have all day!”

My hand gave out to him, as he took the pocket watch

“Im gonna need a few minutes with your husband, go sit on the couch, but if you do anything stupid, I’ll kill you..” he demanded

He’s gonna kill him, I know, so lets just let it happen.

BANG!

A bead of sweat drip down my forehead as I smelled the scent of blood coming from the other room

Mothers name of husbands sister, husband said he got a necklace with my mothers name on it, Dahlia. So if dahlia is my mother h/n is my… brother. My own brother is my husband. Fuck no please, I have to get out

Sprinted across the room to the door and made my way out just to end up in the same place as always.

“No.. fuck no no no no- this can’t be happening please”

My husband came out of the bathroom again with a panic and worry on his face and started to bombard me with questions.

“Y/n?”

“Baby are you ok?”

“What happened honey?”

“Whats wrong?”

I’ve had enough

“S-STOP IT, GO AWAY”

“Baby whats wrong” he pleaded with concern

“NO! Please I have to go” I shouted at him as I bolted through the door coming back to the same gentle humming tune coming from the bathroom.

“Hey, I didnt hear you come in”

Again met with the same eyes with my lover ugh- brother, I cant tell him, I cant.

“Hey babe” I said as he kissed me once again,

this is wrong

“I made dessert, let me know if your in the mood”

The same sentence every ten minutes.

Snatching the pocket watch from the ventilation grid, the grunting and groaning leaving my mouth as I tried to get up from the pain in my back,

The watch was broken. Turning the long handle I fixed it back to its place, 2 minutes before 12. I saw the world turn into a dark abyss, the watch turning anti clock- wise, my hand slowly fading into the tiles of the bathroom, my eyes growing heavy and started to close putting me into a deep sleep

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey there he is… your back”

Huh?

“Look, I know this is a… terrible shock. But we need to be on the same page. Look, I… These feelings for my son… your brother. This isn’t how I wanted to tell you…you deserve… both of you deserve better.”

He said with a long pause

“Yknow the thing I hate the most, worst thing in the world?… Disappointing my lil boy. Well that was the worst thing…. And now a baby… you with your little… love… I guess it was always gonna happen”

He said as he walked around in disbelief and ignorance

“Nothing stays swallowed down forever. So, you gonna make a call”

“If i could go back..” I started

“Well. Things would be different. But you can’t just try again. Thats not how life works! So, you gotta make the choice, and make it now”

…

“Say something”

H/n’s book about zen..

“Fine!, your gonna force it by hand? Fine!”

“Hey “its only by forgetting that.. we ever really drop the thread of time, and approach the experience of living in the present moment””

“Ah, you’ve read that one, eh?”

“I know the idea of forgetting things sounds crazy but, what if… you could?

I can help with that if you want. All you have is the future, you’ll forget everything you went through. All the pain. All the stress. Forgotten forever. But, you need to understand there is no turning back. You can’t undo this… we can still talk about him but you need to choose an answer…”

I stared at the clock as I watch it about to turn twelve

“you don’t have to forget if you don’t want to, The choice is yours”

12:00

DING!

“ you do have a remarkable imagination… The stories you’ve created… but believing them so strongly, so deeply is unhealthy… you have to let him go… you can’t keep obsessing over him… sometimes things are just as what they are…

Its time for you to wake up…

[tanzaniiite]

CHANCE • SINGLE DAD DAICHI

requests: CLOSED

warnings: none!

word count: 1.9k

series masterlist

a/n: can you tell i like single parent aus?

*chanting* single dad daichi, single dad daichi, single dad daic–

“You’re not my dad”

“No, I’m not”

“My dad’s a cop so if you’re thinking about kidnapping me, I suggest you think again“

You laughed at the twelve-year-old’s words. Daichi was right, she was a fireball. “I know, I’m a.. friend of your dad’s. He got caught up at work and asked me to pick you up” You explained, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. The pre-teen raised an eyebrow, “A friend of my dad? Lady, that’s the oldest trick in the book, you need to step up your game if you wanna kidnap a kid in this lifetime” She claimed, crossing her arms over her chest. You laughed some more, covering your mouth with your hand, at least she was being cautious.

“Okay, it’s good you don’t trust me but here’s why you should. I’m a good friend of your dad, Daichi Sawamura. And because he got caught up at the station, he wanted me to swing by and pick you, Suzuki Sawamura, up from school” You explained using the keywords your boyfriend instructed you to use. Suzuki stared at you for a while before shrugging, “Okay, you’re good” She said before hopping into your car. Letting out a relieved sigh, you shot Daichi a quick text.

You put your phone in your pocket before getting into the driver’s seat. “You ready to go?” You asked looking at Suzuki through the rear-view mirror. She shrugged, “I guess,” She said clicking her seatbelt into place. The ride back to Daichi’s place was quiet and albeit awkward. Honestly, this wasn’t how you pictured meeting your boyfriend’s daughter for the first time. Sneaking a glance in the rear-view mirror again, you saw here tapping away at her phone, not paying attention to her surroundings. You mentally rolled your eyes, typical kid behavior, can’t say you’re surprised.

What did surprise you, was her speaking up out of nowhere. “What are you to my dad?” She inquired catching your eye in the mirror. “Well I’m a good friend of his, we went to high school together. So I’ve known him for a long time” You stated diverting your eyes back to the road. You weren’t sure if Daichi has told Suzuki the two of you were dating but you wanted to play it safe, just in case he hasn’t. However, the pre-teen didn’t look convinced. “How come he doesn’t talk about you then?” She pressed. You bit your lip, not gonna lie, that stung. Does Daichi not talk about you or was she just trying to get a rise out of you? Your boyfriend did say she was mischievous like that.

“Probably because we fell out of touch after high school and recently reconnected about a year or so ago. And does your dad let you in on everything about his life?” You asked rhetorically. Suzuki looked slightly taken aback by your comment but quickly recovered. She shot you a slight glare before turning to look out the window. Shit. You prayed you didn’t fuck that up. The last thing you needed was for Daichi’s daughter to not like you. Especially because you wanted to get to know her and get closer to her.

Reaching Daichi’s place, you parked your car in the driveway and before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt, Suzuki got out of the car. You watched as she used her own set of keys to open the door and close it behind her. Yeah, she was upset. Fuckkkkk. Pulling out your phone, you texted your boyfriend.

You groaned, slamming your head against the steering wheel. What a great first impression on your boyfriend’s daughter! Lifting your head from the wheel, you slapped your cheeks a few times. The only thing you could do now is make amends. Getting out of the car you made your way to the door only to find it was locked. You let out an exasperated sigh, you deserved that. Digging out your copy of the keys, you opened the door to find Suzuki at the dining table doing what looked like homework.

She didn’t even bother sparing you a glance as you came in and locked the door behind you. This was going to be difficult. You placed your bag on the couch and made your way to the dining room. Sitting in the chair next to her, you decided to break the uncomfortable silence. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened in the car... I’m sure your dad tells you plenty about his life” You reassured fiddling with your hands nervously. Suzuki glanced up at you, “No. You’re right, my dad doesn’t tell me much. He used to but not anymore” She murmured going back to her homework. Oh? Now you were intrigued.

“What’d you mean?” You inquired placing your arms on the table. The brunette sighed and placed her pencil down, “After my mom and dad split up, my dad was in a bad place. He didn’t get abusive or anything, he was just… sad. Like all the time. And I guess he would sort of confide in me because we were in a similar situation. He lost a partner, I kind of lost my mom. And I got used to that, now he doesn’t tell me anything.” She huffed, “The worst part is that I know he’s hiding something from me. But I don’t know what, I wish he’d just tell me” Suzuki explained glaring down at the table. Suddenly you felt kind of bad. Daichi didn’t tell her about you because he most likely didn’t want to upset her as well as make sure your relationship was solid before introducing a new woman into his daughter’s life.

You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Alright enough talk about your dad, I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s ready. But for now, let’s do something fun” You suggested. Suzuki raised an eyebrow at you, “Something fun? Like what?” She asked confusion laced in her tone. You smirked slightly,

“I’m glad you asked”

Daichi sighed as he parked his car behind yours in the driveway. He wanted you and Suzuki to get along. Ever since he and Michimiya split, she hasn’t had a stable mother figure in her life. Sure, Yui got her every other weekend and on holidays but he had sole custody so that wasn’t exactly stable. Hopefully, the two of you could get along because, to be honest, Daichi loves you. And deep down he feels like he’s always had, even back in high school.

Opening the door, Daichi was surprised to hear… giggling. Based on what you texted him earlier, his daughter didn’t seem like she was in a giggling mood. Then again, that was almost two hours ago. Taking off his jacket and shoes, Daichi made his way to the bathroom, the source of the giggling. He stopped in his tracks as he saw you and Suzuki sitting on the floor, doing what looked like some sort of spa activity.

“—and can you believe he tried to convince the coach he was perfectly fine? After taking a dive like that and not going to the infirmary?”

“That does sound like my dad”

Suzuki stated before gasping. “My mask is dripping!” She exclaimed trying to push the homemade avocado face mask back into place. “Wait wait, let me do it. You’re going to mess up your nails” You stated moving her hands away and fixing the mask yourself. “There. Trying tilting your head back a bit so it doesn’t drip as much” You advised, demonstrating what you meant. Suzuki nodded, following your instructions. As she tilted her head back she saw her dad standing in the doorway with a wide smile on his face.

“Oh, hey dad” She greeted waving slightly. Daichi just smiled more, “Hey pumpkin, having fun?” He asked. Turning to face him properly she nodded, “Yeah, your friend is really fun” She claimed, smiling slightly. Daichi’s gaze drifted to you once you spoke, “You’re only saying that because I told you some of your dad’s embarrassing high school stories” You laughed. Hearing that made Daichi’s smile faltered a bit, “You told her embarrassing stories about me? How am I ever going to get my rep as a cool dad back?” He asked rhetorically.

“Dad, to be honest, you never had that rep to begin with”

Suzuki stated, blowing on her nails to dry them. This caused you to burst out into laughter with Suzuki following suit. Daichi couldn’t help but chuckle, he was glad the two of you patched things up. “Haha. Y/n can I speak to you for a minute?” He asked nodding his head to the kitchen. You cleared your throat and nodded, “Sure. Aw man, Suzuki you got me in trouble” You teased getting up and dusting off your pants. The twelve-year-old giggled, “Sorry” She apologized as you and Daichi moved to the kitchen.

Once he made sure Suzuki was out of earshot, Daichi pulled you close to him and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “Glad to see you guys made up” He whispered. You shrugged slightly, “It wasn’t anything serious, plus there’s nothing a face mask can’t fix” You claimed. “Yeah well, it seems like she likes you” Your boyfriend stated. You looked up at him, “You think so?” You asked. Daichi smiled slightly and kissed your forehead, “I know so” He claimed. You smiled and embraced him, nuzzling your face in his chest. Sawamura hugged you back. The two of you stayed like that until you heard someone clear their throat.

“Do you kiss and embrace all your friends, dad? I gotta tell Uncle Koshi and Azu what they’re missing”

Suzuki said standing at the entrance of the kitchen. You and Daichi pulled away quickly and stared at the pre-teen. “Um.. pumpkin–” Daichi started, only to be interrupted by Suzuki raising her hand. “I already know, I’m not dumb dad. You don’t have any regular girl friends except for Aunt Shimizu” She explained crossing her arms. The brunette chuckled shaking his head, “Nothing gets past you huh?” He asked rhetorically, ruffling his daughter’s hair. “Nope!” She exclaimed smiling brightly. You could only stand back and watch your boyfriend interact with his child, he was a good dad.

“So since you know, what do think of Y/n?”

“She’s nice.. nicer than mom. You should keep her”

Suzuki said, causing you to smile slightly. You weren’t exactly the biggest fan of Michimiya back in high school and especially after you found out what she did to Daichi. So to hear you were nicer than her from her daughter felt good, you can’t lie. Daichi raised an eyebrow, “Oh really? Well, I plan on keeping her around” Daichi stated, smiling at you, “what do think about that?” He inquired turning back to his daughter. The twelve-year-old glanced at you,

“Can we do more spa stuff?”

“Absolutely”

“Can you do my nails again?”

“For sure”

“…what about my hair?”

“Suzuki, of course. I want to spend more time with you”

You said moving next to Daichi and bending down in front of her. The pre-teen looked suspicious, “You sure? You’re not just saying that because my dad’s here? Because we’re a package deal. You can’t have him without me. And I’ve been told I’m a handful” Suzuki stated. Daichi snorted while you laughed slightly. “Yes, I’m sure. Don’t worry, your dad is a handful too” You said whispering the last part. Suzuki giggled, “Okay fine. My dad seems to like you so I’ll give you a chance”. You smiled and gave Suzuki a fist bump,

“Thank you, a chance is all I ask for”

tanzaniiite © 2020 — all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or copy. do not plagiarize. thank you.