#and yes maybe it's my period talking but I still feel the feelings I am feeling

[larrysballetslippers]

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[theemporium]

[5.1k] an off-putting interaction with a supposed fan leaves jack cursed and, somehow, you find yourself in the middle of it. because acting like your enemy's girlfriend to not aggravate a curse is totally normal, right?

[find other fright night specials here]

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It was well known by all that you and Jack Hughes did not like each other. 

If anything, that was an understatement about how the two of you felt about each other. It was one of those things that everyone knew: the sky was blue, the sun rose in the east and set in the west, and Jack Hughes was the bane of your fucking existence. 

You couldn’t quite remember a time when he wasn’t a pain in your ass. Since the day you joined the Devils team, the boy seemed to have it out for you and you returned the attitude. You were constantly at each other’s throats—much to the other boys’ entertainment—bickering and arguing and snapping. 

It was one of the safest bets you could make—especially on game days.

“Dude, I just had the weirdest fucking fan experience of my life!”

You didn’t hold back the urge to roll your eyes, your attention focused on the clipboard in your hands rather than the boy who had barrelled over and interrupted you. “Jesus, I thought players were meant to be mellow and calm before a game.” 

“Maybe that’s just what they tell you because you’re boring,” Jack retorted, flashing you a smile that was as irritating as it was charming. “And I wasn’t even talking to you. I was talking—”

“To my patient,” you bit out, turning your attention back to Dawson who was looking between the two of you with a slightly awkward but apprehensive expression. “Now, like I was asking before we were interrupted, the tension in your—”

“She was so weird,” Jack continued on, his lips twitching when he noticed the heavy sigh you let out but he kept going, facing forward towards Dawson as his shoulder brushed against yours. “I was coming out of the carpark and—”

Dawson’s nose scrunched up. “She was in the player carpark?”

“Yes!” Jack exclaimed, his eyes widening. “That’s what I’m saying, she already snuck in there and then she kept saying something but I couldn’t understand a word. So, I tried to politely—”

You snorted.

“—tell her that I was running late,” Jack continued, shooting you a quick but dirty look as he did. “But then she just started muttering to herself and waved her hands at me before walking away.” 

“Sounds like you broke a sweet old woman’s heart,” Dawson commented, grinning a little when Jack smacked his arm.

“Shut up,” Jack murmured, though his cheeks flushed pink in response. “I was already running late—”

“No surprise there,” you added.

“—I just didn’t have time,” Jack defended, once again shooting you a dirty look. “But it was weird, bro. She had some weird juju.”

Dawson pressed his lips together to hold back his laughter. “Juju?”

“Juju!” Jack repeated with a nod.

“I think you’re letting the guilt get to you, bro,” Dawson said, shaking his head in amusement. “You should head in to get ready for the game. Pretty sure Coach was asking Nico where you—”

“And you just let me stand here and talk?” Jack hissed, his eyes wide before he began rushing down the hallway towards the locker room. “What the fuck, Merc?!” 

“Always blaming everyone but himself,” you huffed, shaking your head. “Typical.”

Dawson grinned a little. “You know, people say that tension is a great aphrodisiac.” 

You shot him a blank look. “The only tension I am interested in is the kind in your muscles. Now, you gonna tell me how your hamstring is feeling or should I tell Coach to scrap you from the game?” 

Dawson quickly zipped his mouth shut.

…

It happened too fast for anyone to comprehend. 

There was five minutes left of the third period, the Devils were up one goal but it was still close. The Jets were putting up more of a fight than they anticipated, pulling moves and hits that were rough and dirty and tiring out the Devils far faster than they would have liked. 

Jack’s whole body was screaming, his heart pounding in his chest and his brain clinging onto the fact that it was almost over. Just a few more minutes until the final buzzer sounded, they just needed to make sure they didn’t let the other team score. That was all. Just tire them out in the last few minutes and they could clinch the win. 

He was so focused on thinking defensively, on thinking what would keep the Jets moving and chasing that he hadn’t even noticed the player barrelling towards him until it was too late. 

The referees blew the whistle too late, Jack’s whole body lurching with the hit as he felt himself get smacked up against the glass before he hit the ice. He felt as though someone had dunked his head underwater, his hearing muffled and his senses disoriented as he tried to scramble up onto his feet. As he tried to show that he was okay and he could keep playing. 

But the pain that ripped through his head when he tried to stand prevented him from doing so. 

“Give him space!” 

“Someone get the medics!” 

“Jack? You good?”

“He looks like he is gonna throw up!” 

Jack could feels hands on him. He could hear voices and he could hear the concern, even if he couldn’t lift his head to work out who was talking to him. He couldn’t do anything but groan and clench his eyes shut and hope that somebody would just make his head stop pounding.

He didn’t even remember how he got off the ice but he was grateful for the darkness in the medic room, the determination to finish the game as a win no longer at the top of his priority list. 

…

You knew the Devils took a chance on you when they offered you the job, but you liked to think you lived up to their expectations. 

You were fresh out of college, lost and intimidated and a degree in physiotherapy in your hands that you didn’t quite know what to do with. You had seen the opening in the Devils’ team by chance, and had applied for the sake of just having the experience of applying. You never considered getting an interview, or for them to like you. 

You never considered that they would take a chance on a student fresh out of college, offering a place under the current head of the team to shadow for a few years before fully taking over the position. 

But life had funny ways of working out and the job with the Devils was one of them.

You had been with the team for almost three years now. You were hardworking and diligent and you performed the roles of your job and beyond. You were a good employee. You knew you were. 

Which is why you were utterly baffled by the fact you were being dragged down the hallway instead of preparing your office for the players' cooldown massages and checkups. 

“What did I do? Are they angry at me? Was there a report I forgot to hand in?” You questioned the boy pulling you, nerves bubbling up in your stomach and you suddenly regretted the pretzel you ate during the second period. 

“No, no, it’s just—” Nico paused, his brows furrowing together. “I can’t really explain it. You just gotta see it.” 

“See what?” You questioned, your eyes darting over the boy’s shoulder to see him leading you towards the medic rooms. “Why are you bringing me here? Did someone pull something?” 

“It’s Jack,” Nico replied, like that explained anything.

“Did Jack pull something?” You asked, albeit a bit desperately. Your patience was already thin and the vague replies were starting to test you. “Nico, tell me what’s wrong? I thought Jack was just on concussion watch, Susan said—” 

“Just,” Nico paused outside the room, grimacing a little. “Just play along, yeah?” 

You opened your mouth, a dozen more questions on the tip of your tongue but it was that very moment the door swung open. 

“Baby, there you are! Where have you been?” 

You blinked, staring at Jack who was currently sitting up on one of the medic beds, grinning happily at you. Then your eyes shifted to the team doctor who looked sheepish, a similar expression shared by the coaching staff beside her. And finally, your eyes landed on Luke who was standing beside Jack’s bed, looking like he was seconds away from laughing (an expression you weren’t expecting on the brother of someone who took a very bad hit).

Nico cleared his throat, nudging you forward. “Found her!”

You stumbled forward, still utterly confused at the odd looks you were receiving from everyone in the room. “What? Was something broken in the hit or something?”

“Baby,” Jack groaned, though it sounded fond and sweet as he reached his hand out towards you. “Stop thinking about work for two seconds, will you? C’mere, I missed you. They said you were too busy to see me just after the hit.” 

You blinked. “Are you talking to me?” 

Jack raised his brows in amusement. “Is there another girlfriend I have that I’ve forgotten about?” 

“Girlfriend?” You repeated, your jaw almost hitting the ground. “I am—”

“Very much his girlfriend who loves him very much,” Nico interrupted, stepping forward and giving you a look you were starting to understand. “And who must be very concerned after he took that big hit that could have gone badly and could have affected his memory.”

Your lips parted slightly as everything clicked.

“Geez, Hisch, way to look at things in a glass half empty kinda way,” Jack laughed before lifting his hand out to you. “Baby, m’fine. Don’t listen to him.”

You had half the mind to shoot Luke a glare as you closed the distance between you and took Jack’s hand in yours, ignoring the snickering from the younger Hughes. You swallowed harshly, turning to look at the team doctor instead of Jack.

“So, doc, what’s the consensus?” 

The team doctor gave you a sheepish smile. “He’s been cursed.” 

You blinked. “Yeah, no shit.” 

“Shit, can you tell?” Jack frowned, lifting his other hand to touch his face. “Do I have warts on my face or something? Oh god, do you still think I’m hot?” 

“I—” You flashed him a slightly strained smile. “Still hot, babe.” 

“Oh, it gets better,” Luke mumbled under his breath. 

Jack beamed in response. 

“The hit should have been a standard hit, the Jets player wasn’t even skating fast enough to cause the…damage Jack is experiencing,” the doctor continued. “We suspected foul play and did a few additional tests. It seemed like Jack had a curse manifesting throughout the game but the brunt of the curse didn’t hit until mid-play. And whoever cursed him seemed to have it out for him because it took the environment around him and made it worse—hence, the Jets player’s hit seeming harder, the force he hit the glass and the pain caused by the hit.” 

You frowned. “So, what do we do? How do we…un-curse him?” 

“You can’t,” Luke jumped in, smiling far too wide for your liking. “Doc says we just have to let the curse play out.” 

“I hardly feel cursed,” Jack said dismissively. “What, a rough hit? That’s it? Some curse. Everything else is normal.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Until then,” the doctor continued. “I strongly advise doing anything that would…agitate the curse. It could make things worse. We got lucky with the…limited inconveniences.” 

Despite her cryptic words, you understood the message loud and clear. 

Play along and be his girlfriend until his memory returned to normal or else god knows what will happen.

You just wondered what you did to deserve being cursed along with him. 

…

“I bet it was that old lady before the game.”

You lifted your head to find Jack lounging on the massage bed in your office, staring at the ceiling as he continued to contemplate. You had mentioned to him that you needed to finish some paperwork before leaving for the day. 

You expected him to head back to his apartment with Luke, not stay behind with you.

Luke just cackled when Jack decided to stay with you. 

Your brows furrowed together. “Who?”

“The weird old lady that I told you and Dawson about before the game,” Jack said, turning his head to look back at you. “The one who I said had bad juju?” 

And of course he would remember that, just not the fact you weren’t his girlfriend.

Stupid curse. 

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded, leaning back in your seat. “So, what? You didn’t take a photo with her and she curses you? Seems a bit harsh.” 

“Maybe she didn’t like the fact I told her I wasn’t available,” Jack teased, winking at you.

It took every tensed muscle in your body to stop you from scrunching your nose in response. 

“Seems likely,” you replied with a strained smile on your face once more. “Right, I’m done here. Do you want a lift back?” 

Jack laughed, pushing himself to sit up. “Yeah, unless you expect me to walk back to your place and meet you there.”

You froze. “You’re coming back to mine?”

“Duh,” Jack said, his brows furrowing a little at your reaction. “Like I do after every game, babe. This isn’t new. Are you feeling okay?” 

“Yeah, just—” You waved him off, focusing on tidying up your desk instead. “Tired. I think I slept badly.” 

“Aw, baby,” Jack cooed, and it was odd hearing it in a sweet, concerning way rather than the condescending tone you were used to. “S’fine, you’ve got me tonight. Bet you’ll sleep like a baby.” 

“Definitely,” you agreed, making a mental note to strangle Luke the next time he came in for a deep muscle massage.

…

“Uh, where’s your clothes?” 

Jack glanced over at you, that stupid grin on his face that still looked unbelievably fond. It felt wrong to be on the receiving end of it. 

“M’getting ready for bed,” he said simply. “I can’t sleep in a shirt, babe, you know this.” 

“Right, of course I do,” you nodded. “I was just testing you. Making sure you have no more memory problems.” 

“That’s sweet, babe, but I am okay,” Jack assured you, climbing under the covers and settling on the right side of the bed, like he somehow fucking knew you preferred the left. “The doc cleared me and I’ve felt fine since. You know I’d tell you if I felt like something was wrong.”

“Yeah, I just…worry,” you answered after a few moments, trying to calm the thoughts racing through your head as you climbed into the bed next to him. You kept telling yourself to relax, to just pretend like this was normal, to do what the doctor said and play along with the curse so it doesn’t get worse.

But it was hard to believe you were sharing a bed with the boy when he—mutually—hated your guts a few hours ago.

“C’mere,” Jack hummed, pulling you into his embrace with ease and ignoring the way your body seemed to tense at the contact between you both. “Just relax. It’s hockey, hits happen. You know that.” 

You swallowed. “Curses don’t, though.” 

“True, but we will get through that too,” Jack said with so much confidence. “We’re a team, remember? I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine.”

Your eyes widened as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Mhm. A team. That’s us.” 

Jack grinned against your head. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Night, Jack.” 

…

You woke up the following morning to an empty bed.

For a moment, you thought the whole thing was a bad dream. You thought that it was some twisted nightmare your brain tormented you with, something that would haunt you for the next few days but ultimately forget. 

For a moment, you let out a sigh of relief. 

And then you heard a crash from the kitchen, followed by a familiar voice whispering ‘shit’ and realised it was not, in fact, a dream.

You weren’t even sure what you expected to find when you threw the covers off and quickly rushed towards the source of the noise. But finding Jack, half dressed, with two plates on the counter with a sizzling pan on the stove was not it. 

“Oh hey, you’re up,” he beamed once he spotted you lingering in the doorway. “We didn’t have much in the fridge, so we should probably do a grocery run soon. But I managed to whip up something edible.” 

You blinked. “You cook?”

Jack groaned but there was still a smile on his face. “Babe, I’m getting better. I only set the toaster on fire twice in the last few months!” 

You blinked again, your brain far too tired to even stay with the conversation.

“Your coffee is in the fridge,” Jack said, turning back around to focus on not burning whatever was in the pan. “I didn’t make it, so I promise it tastes good. It’s from that cafe down the road you like.”

You knew the cafe well. It was one of your favourites and one you frequently bought coffees from, especially before work. You knew it wasn’t the most shocking thing in the world that he knew of its existence, but the fact he somehow seemed to know it was your favourite and choose the correct order threw you off.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a sip of the iced coffee whilst Jack just grinned at you. 

“You’re snappy before coffee,” he teased. 

You shuffled towards the stools by the counter, settling down as you watched the boy closely, like somehow staring at him would reverse whatever curse that old lady put on him. It didn’t. Instead, you were just blatantly staring at the shirtless boy in your kitchen like he was an alien.

He almost felt like one, if you were being honest.

“So,” you spoke up after a few moments. “What are your plans for today?” 

Jack glanced over his shoulder, shooting you an odd look. “Are you sure you’re not the one who got hit last night? We have the charity event with the other boys, remember? The picnic in the park? Don’t tell me my date is bailing on me.”

You laughed nervously. “Of course not! Just…testing you again!”

“Well, you can chill with the tests,” he assured you, pressing another fucking kiss on your forehead that made you feel warm and gooey and confused as he placed your plate in front of you. “M’okay, baby, promise. Also, I promised Nico we would bring something so we should probably stop by some bakery and grab cookies, or something.” 

You only hummed in response, fighting the urge to blurt out the truth and somehow relieved that you wouldn’t have to be spending the day alone with him.

…

“You. Here. Now.” 

Luke blinked, his brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at you. He pointed his finger towards himself and you could have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so desperate. 

“Yes, you, idiot. Hurry up.” 

However, Luke was a little bitch so he slowly made his way over to the tree you were currently hiding behind, a plate of finger foods in his hand that he was snacking away on. 

“Sup?” 

You stared at him blankly. “You’re already on thin ice.” 

“Aw,” Luke cooed, a teasing grin growing on his face. “Was the night with Jack that bad?” 

“He knows things!” You hissed under your breath, a bit more frantic that you would have preferred. “We need to find this fucking witch, I can’t do this anymore.” 

“It’s been less than twenty-four hours,” Luke pointed out.

“It’s freaky as fuck,” you retorted. “He knows things about me that a normal boyfriend would.” 

“Wow, it’s almost like magic,” Luke deadpanned.

“I hate you.” 

“Rude way to talk to your possible future brother-in-law,” Luke grinned, letting out a squeal when you pinched his side. “Ow, ouch! Okay! I’ll try to keep him away from you as much as I can.” 

You sighed. “Thank you.” 

…

It took twenty minutes before that plan flopped. 

Jack snuck off after an interview he had done with Luke for the Devils social media team, hardly giving his brother a chance to come up with an excuse to hang out on the other side of the park before he hunted you down. 

You almost screamed when a body flopped down on the blanket beside you, Jack’s grinning face in your line of vision as he settled his head on your lap. 

“Hey, stranger,” he greeted, lifting his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. “You’ve been quiet today.” 

“Just tired,” you said, the response almost automatic at this point. 

But Jack frowned. “I think you might be getting sick. We should pick up some soup from that deli place you like, down in Hoboken. Maybe pick up some tea too.” 

Your throat felt tight but you nodded nonetheless, hoping your surprise wasn’t obvious on your face.

Fucking magic. 

…

When you woke up the next morning, Jack still thought he was your boyfriend.

The next day was the same. 

So was the one after that. 

And the days following. 

Before you knew it, it had been well over a week—honestly closer to two weeks—and the curse seemed well and truly cemented in place. It was still an absolute mind-fuck, and not just for you but everyone on the team. 

It felt like one big secret you were all holding back on telling Jack, letting him live in some weird and ignorant bliss. The worst part was that he was so unsuspecting of the people closest to him lying to his face. He didn’t question the snickers Dawson or Luke would sometimes let out when the two of you showed up to work together. Or the way Nico seemed to actively avoid talking about the relationship (despite Jack insisting it was his friend’s shove that prompted him to ask you out). Or the fact you had been ‘sick’ for the last two weeks and, therefore, unable to kiss him.

Though, that one was easy with hockey players and their odd superstitions and need to prevent any possible scrap from a game. 

He was so trusting and gullible when it came to the people around him, you almost felt bad. 

The emphasis being on almost because by some weird and twisted turn of events, you didn’t mind it. Not really. Not after the initial weirdness and tension of it wore off. Maybe you had been single for too long or maybe you were mourning something you had never truly experienced, the love and attention of someone who notices, who sees you, who cares about keeping you happy. 

It felt wrong, like you were exploiting Jack for emotions and feelings he didn’t organically have. But it also felt too nice to tell the truth, to tell him that you weren’t really his girlfriend and lose the benefits you had gained over the last two weeks.

It was weird seeing this side of Jack. Not a bad weird, just a different kind. 

A kind you knew you would have to give up once the curse was gone.

“M’gonna be a bit longer, Dawson wanted to run some more drills outside of practice,” Jack said as he lifted himself off the massage bed, flashing those puppy dog eyes at you that made your stomach twist in endearment (when once upon a time, they pissed you off). “Wait for me? I’ll pay for your lunch.” 

“You don’t have to bribe me, you know,” you snorted but your eyes fluttered shut as he rounded your desk, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “But deal. We’re getting burritos.” 

He beamed, shaking his head fondly. “Fine. I’ll catch you in a few hours.” 

You watched him scurry out of your office, probably running through the corridors to get to the locker room before he was reprimanded for being late. He had even arrived two hours earlier than he was meant to, just because he wanted to chill in your office whilst you worked. 

It shouldn’t have made your heart flutter when you knew it wasn’t really Jack but it did.

It really fucking did.

…

It was an hour or so later when you couldn’t ignore your stomach rumbling anymore. 

There was still another two hours before Jack would step off the ice, heading towards the locker room to shower and change before the two of you could grab some food. And you sure as hell could not wait that long. 

You let out a groan, your joints clicking as you stood up from your desk for the first time in a few hours. You ignored the voice in the back of your head that reminded yourself to try walking around a bit more between writing reports before you headed into the hallway, deciding to treat yourself to the vending machines closer to the players’ locker room (it had better snacks, despite what management liked to tell everyone).

You had been standing in front of the vending machine with your brows furrowed in contemplation that you hadn’t even noticed an old lady approaching you.

“You’re the girl.” 

You jumped out of your skin, an unflattering noise of surprise leaving your lips as you stared at the woman with wide eyes. “I, uh, what?” Your brain took a few seconds to catch up. “I mean, I am a girl. I don’t know about being the girl.”

The woman smiled and it sent shivers down your spine. “Hm, yes, I can see it now. His aura lingers on you.” 

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, but the magic remains. It is strong. Pungent,” she continued, tsking as she shook her head. “You delay the inevitable!” 

Your eyes widened as you took a step back on instinct. “You’re the one that cursed Jack, aren’t you?”

“Curse?” Her smile became knowing, sneaky, disconcerting. “Oh, honey, there was no curse.”

You frowned. “Uh, ma’am, with all due respect, I find that hard to believe considering he—” 

“All I did was give him what he wanted,” she said, so simply and so directly that it caught you off guard. “His deepest desire to be his, though I assumed that would be a game win. The losing streak was quite off-putting.” 

“I—” You blinked. “So, wait. You’re a fan?” 

“Yes,” she stated. “Was it not obvious?” 

You bit back the sarcastic response that wanted to leave your lips. “And what? You cursed him to win the game?” 

“That was my mistake for assuming it was what he desired the most,” she replied, that almost-creepy smile on her face. “It seems his deepest desires lay with you.” 

You stared at the woman in front of you. “You’re joking, right?” 

“I do not joke,” she stated bluntly. 

“So…the way he’s been acting…” you trailed off, your mind racing with a million different thoughts.

“All himself,” the woman answered. “Think of the magic as the confidence boost he needed to get there.” 

“He likes me?” 

“Yes.”

“Like, properly?” 

“Yes.” 

“And everything he’s been doing? That’s been done by him and not influenced by magic? Not even the tidbits of knowledge?” 

“My dear, it sounds like you have been very oblivious to how this man feels about you.” 

You shot her a look, unsure how you felt about being called out by the very witch who ‘didn’t curse’ the boy you had been calling your boyfriend for the last two weeks. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Though, it seems like his change in relationship with you has been what he needed to get him out of his losing slump, so I guess we both win.”

You frowned a little. “You’re one odd lady.” 

She shrugged in response. 

“How did you even get in here?” 

…

“Run it again!” 

Jack’s muscles were screaming at him as he pushed himself across the ice, pushing himself to go faster, faster, faster like the coach wanted as he carried the puck on his stick. His eyes were laser-focused on the players around him, on dodging the defencemen lined up in front of him and skating around them to get to the goal. 

He didn’t let himself relax until the sound of the puck hitting the back of the net hit his ears.

“JACK!” 

He turned his head, expecting to find one of his teammates skating towards him to celebrate his goal in their makeshift drill. But instead of Nico skating towards him with his arms in the air or Dougie prepared to smack him on the back for dodging his attempts, he instead found you standing by the tunnel. 

You looked flustered and on edge and panicked, and it made his spine straighten.

Jack dodged the others, ignoring whatever the coaching staff were barking at them as he made his way towards you at a speed that you would have disapproved of if you knew how sore his muscles were.

“What? Are you okay? Did something happen?” He asked frantically, confused as to why else you would have interrupted a training practice. 

“You like me,” you said to him.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Uh, yeah, babe. I do. What are you—”

But before he could continue, you grabbed his face with both hands and tugged him closer. He stumbled a step or two before his lips were pressed on yours. His surprise disappeared after a few seconds, his body melting into the kiss and his brain forgetting whatever he was trying to ask moments ago.

He was still in a daze when you pulled away, your hands still holding his face and your gaze completely focused on him, like you were expecting to see something different. 

“Do you still like me?” You asked, a little breathless.

And he felt winded. 

Winded by an influx of memories and realisations and emotions that were all his own. Winded by the magic coursing through him, ringing obvious and evident to his body despite two weeks of feeling nothing. Winded by the look on your face, a hint of fear and hope shining in your eyes as you awaited his response.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his cheeks burning hot. “I do.”

“Okay,” you nodded, your lips twitching upwards. “Good.” 

And then you kissed him again. 

However, this time it was the shrill of a whistle that broke you two apart, the annoyed voices of the coaching staff telling Jack to stop slacking and continue on with his training ringing loud and clear through the rink. 

“We still have a lot to talk about,” you said as Jack began to skate back towards the rest of the group. “Like, a lot.”

He grinned at you. “We still on for burritos after?” 

You laughed. “Only if you’re still playing.” 

“It’s a date, baby,” Jack winked. 

It was well known by all that you and Jack Hughes did not like each other. 

But maybe a little bit of magic was the shove the two of you needed to realise that wasn’t quite true. 

.

[gothamite-rambler]

The batgirls on their periods (conclusion)

The batgirls on their period and how the boys handle them. My Aunt Flo is visiting this month and period woes should be told. All right, let’s do this thing!

Stephanie rested on the floor in the fetal position. She groaned from the intense cramps her period bestowed on her. Tim walked into the living room spotting her on the ground next to the couch.

Tim: Why are you on the floor?

Stephanie (uncomfortable): I attempted to readjust myself on the couch, and then I was on the ground. That's when the stomach cramps entered the mix and I am in too much cramp pain to want to get up. Why are these always so... intense?

Tim: You might have a medical condition related to the-

Stephanie (seething): I need you to stop doing what you usually do. I seriously don’t want to kick you in the crotch and mind you I’m at the level to do so.

Tim (not concerned): Sorry, it's hard turning it off. Um, do you... Do you need anything?

Stephanie (sardonic): For us to switch places and you go through this.

Tim shook his head with a frown.

Tim: Nah, I'm good.

Stephanie: It feels like an elephant is standing on top of my ovaries and… bouncing.

Tim: That is… oddly descriptive.

Stephanie chuckled raising her hand to talk with it.

Stephanie: Because it’s real, mon frère. At least I still have my humor.

She moaned in pain once more from the elephant bouncing pain.

Stephanie: I think this is it, Timothy. Leave me here to die. Tell my family I loved them and tell Kite-man not to attend my funeral. I’m serious, lock the doors if he tries to step foot at my burial service.

Tim rolled his eyes and helped his friend up.

Tim: At least lay on the couch.

Stephanie: Yes, I'll lay here and suffer.

Tim laid her on the couch and placed a pillow behind her head.

Tim: I can get you an ice or heating pack. That helped when I got kicked in the stomach.

Stephanie: Hmmm, bring me the warm one and Nutella and more carrots... And pain meds. The kind that will let me sleep like a baby.

Tim: Gotcha. Anything else?

Stephanie, raising her pointer finger spoke as if she was an old lady.

Stephanie (sounding like an old lady): Blanket, child. A fuzzy one.

Tim (sympathetic): You just rest. I will take care of you until your period ends. I'll also tell Bruce you're too... Sore is the word I want to use, yeah, too sore to go out tonight.

Stephanie: Thank you. You're the best.

Tim: I try to be.

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

Dick Grayson got the angry side of the menstrual cycle. Something he dealt with since knowing Barbara and it was never a fun time. 

Barbara was not happy with her replacement cake. A vanilla and chocolate mixed cake that Dick bought at the grocery store.

Barbara: This isn't the same cake! It has vanilla in it! You bastard!

Barbara hurled the cake at Dick, hitting him squarely in the face with pinpoint accuracy. The cake quickly slid off, leaving behind a smattering of icing and crumbles clinging to his features. He inhaled sharply, his heavy breaths mingling with surprise.

Dick (mantra): Maintain peace. Maintain peace.

Barbara (crying): Why did you eat my cake? I needed it at this time!

Dick wiped cake out of his eyes, reminding himself he had to be calm when Barbara was going through PMDD during her time of the month.

Dick: Maybe you shouldn't have said I could eat the rest.

Barbara (shouting): You shouldn't have listened to me! I was naive back then!

Dick (losing his temper): It was… two days ago!

Barbara pouted then burst into more sobs, her makeup smearing and her glasses fogging from the tears.

Barbara (crying harder): You... YOU YELLED AT ME!

Dick (panicked): Don’t cry- How was I supposed to know your period was coming on?!

Barbara: You live with Bruce Wayne! The man tracks... everything! I thought you'd have the knowledge to do the same.

Dick (softly): I really don't. You seemed to fail at that too.

Barbara (angry): I was a few days off okay?! This is such shit! I’m tired and bloaty, and I can’t focus! I want to get to work, but my brain is foggy. Worst of all... you made me cry!

Barbara sobbed, her hands covering her face as her tears flowed. Dick let out a sigh and carefully approached her. He wrapped his arms around her, offering a comforting hug to reassure her that everything would be alright.

Dick: I know you're dealing with a tough week, and I really can't handle another sore foot. Why don't you take a break? Shut down this room for the night and give yourself some time to rest. I can swing by and pick up a big box of your favorite chocolates, along with a teddy bear you can use to vent your frustrations instead of taking it out on me. Just take some space until you’re ready to dive back into work and I'll try to do comms for the night.

Barbara (sniffling): That might actually help. I’m really sorry for yelling at you and running over your foot. The cake throwing was out of line too. I guess my PMDD makes me a bit harder to handle sometimes.

Dick (sarcastically): No really I couldn't tell.

Barbara: Can you not tell anyone I cried either?

Dick (smiling): I’d rather forget all of this happened, secrets safe with me.

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

Jason got lucky with the calmer side of the cycle, even though Cass is a bit shy about discussing it. Her birth father wasn’t really the type to take on the responsibility of raising a daughter properly. Bruce tried his best, but it was always a little awkward between them. At least Jason is a better person to take along to the local convenience store for menstrual supplies.

Cass walked over to Jason, carrying four different brand boxes of menstrual pads.

Cass: I couldn't figure out what to get so I picked each brand they had. I swear you think one brand will do its job and then… it doesn’t.

Jason shook his head, not wanting to dwell on what she meant. He closed his eyes, already regretting what he was about to say.

Jason: Never tell anyone this, but Artemis recommends the Playtex. Just get that so we can go.

Cass: Artemis suggested that? Okay, that’s the one to buy.

Cass handed Jason the Playtex box and then pushed the other brand boxes onto a store shelf.

Jason (blushing): All right, take this back please.

Cass giggled as she took the box back and tucked it under her arm.

Cass: I'm glad you took me to the store, you’re the best.

Cass tried to hug her brother, but he stepped aside.

Jason: Don't hug me in a convenience store as you're shopping for pads. I’m just as uncomfortable as you.

Cass (smiling): I'll give you that hug later. Oh if it's okay can you buy me a lot of caramel candies? I'm not a chocolate person honestly and these pads are expensive. 

Jason grabbed five bags without hesitation.

Jason: As long as I'm not paying for the...  Pads.

Cass: You so silly. You said Artemis has her own time of the month.

Jason (blushing): Yeah I don't- I don't help her out with that. Amazon women... not nice during that time. She screams at me if I talk to her during that pe- ti- situation. At least you're not as... Punchy as she is.

Cass: Yeah I'm pretty mellow during this time. Just bad cramps and feeling mushy.

Jason (sheepishly): That's... not mood swings. Good… for you. I think. This is my life right now.

Cass laughed, patting Jason on the arm.

Cass: Pretty much. I'm surprised you came in the store with me though.

Jason: I mean I wanted to help you out... because I care about you and I saw how nervous you were.

Cass sniffled with a smile.

Jason: Yeah I know I'm awesome. Let's check out. You go first.

Cass: I don't blame you.

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

Kate has been through her cycle enough times to be used to it. Her and Bruce were at Chili's (Not by Bruce's choice) and talk about menstrual cycles. Kate does all of the talking, Bruce is regretting ordering the burger.

Kate (chewing): I swear this one week is the bane of every woman who has to suffer through it. Blood coming out of that area, the aching and throbbing can be intense when my cramps start. It’s like someone is drilling a corkscrew into my uterus. The entire week is nothing but exhaustion, even walking is difficult. Then there’s the diarrhea and your breasts-

Bruce dropped his fork and slammed his fist on the table to silence his cousin. She let out a chuckle.

Bruce: Why are you telling me this while we're at a chain restaurant?

Kate laughed, taking another bite of her steak. 

Kate: You're my cousin and that gives me the right to gross you out. That and you have to know this by now. You have daughters.

Bruce: I'm starting to wish I had all boys.

Kate (mockingly): You boys are so sensitive about this stuff. How do you think we feel? 

Kate snatched a fry from Bruce's hand and popped it into her mouth. He had intended to eat that.

Bruce (monotone): You want the rest of my fries?

Kate: N- I’ll take a couple.

Kate grabbed a fist full of fries and plopped them on her plate.

Kate: Brucie, just support us like you do already and we won't cuss you out.

Bruce (doubtfully): Yes you will.

Kate: I’m lying you got me. You're doing a great job though, cuzzo.

Bruce (sweetly): I’m glad that I am.

Part 1

[predestinatos]

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 04 - Nipple Sucking]

Pairing: Brat to Good Boy!Jungkook x Mommy Domme!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU

Kinks: nipple sucking, breast worship, thigh grinding, clothed sex, vaginal fingering, cumming in his pants, subby boy tears, drool, he accidentally bruises her nipple from being too eager, he is a lil brat at the beginning and bites her nipples jfsdjf, masochist!Jungkook, tongue spanking, hair pulling, subspace, cuddling & praises for aftercare

Wordcount: 3.8k

a/n: this is inspired by anonie’s idea this was actually not planned to be included in kinktober at first but i suddenly felt the unbearable urge to write this and so i did <3 have fun besties i’m a whore for him

You and Jungkook have been arguing. It wasn’t a terrible fight, nor a very burdening one, but it was still a fight. You say that Jungkook was in your magic kitchen and messed up the papers on your desk, while he insists that it wasn’t him. You know for a fact however that it was him and that he is being stubborn. You know because you noticed the ink stain on his shirt from accidentally dunking it into your inkpot. 

“I don’t understand why you want to keep up this stubborn farce.” 

“It’s not a farce, it’s fact. I didn’t mess up your papers.”

“So you were in my magic kitchen?” 

“Ye- No? No, that’s not what I meant.” 

“Mhm sure and I’m the queen of the moon.” 

Jungkook huffs out air, pouting. 

“Even if I was, theoretically, it doesn’t mean I was the one who messed up your papers. Maybe they were already messed up when I got there.” 

“We’ve been over this, Kookie. How the hell did the ink stain get on your shirt then?” 

“It’s from the love letters I was writing to you.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you. Flirting isn’t gonna work right now”, you say, but chuckle.

Jungkook grins boyishly, closing the distance between you and him.

“What’s a few papers anyway, right?” he says, fluttering his lashes at you.

“No, no stay away, you stubborn walnut.”

“I’m not stubborn.”

“Yes, you are. You’re even more stubborn than I am.”

Jungkook gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls.

“You take that back.”

“I’m taking it back once you admit that you were in my kitchen and messed up my papers.”

Jungkook sits down on the sofa and crosses his arms in front of his chest. He pouts, looking to the side like a sulking baby.

The thing is. You weren’t angry, nor really frustrated. In some weird way, you were amused. The fight is silly and so obviously not taken seriously by either party. In a peculiar sense, it almost feels like flirting. You and Jungkook find yourselves in a weird yet exciting dance of “who breaks first?” and you know exactly how to break him. 

You begin opening the front lacing on your dress. Jungkook notices from the corner of his eyes, shifting on the sofa as inconspicuously as possible. 

You sometimes like to wear pretty dresses from earlier time periods when at the estate. Your dress today consists of an outer layer and a flowy under dress. You let the outer dress fall to the floor, stepping out of it. 

Jungkook shifts again, clearing his throat. He turns his head further to the side, acting as if he can’t see you. 

Your under dress is made of a very thin cotton fabric, making it so perfectly translucent at the parts of your body which were more sinful than the rest. Yes, we are talking about your nipples and pubes here. Jungkook has a very hard time not looking at you. The collar of your under dress is closed with a ribbon. You open it as you strut to Jungkook.

You straddle his lap. His meaty thighs tense, jaw tightening. 

One skilled move and the dress slips down your shoulders, revealing your chest to him. 

Jungkook tries to turn his head even more but you stop him, nudging him to face you with two fingers gripping his chin. 

His eyes ghost over your breasts but flit up to stare at your face obsessively. Even now he is stubborn enough not to admit that you have him charmed.

“Do I really have to force you to confess, sweet one?” you say, caressing him under his chin. Your eyes race between his.

“I didn’t mess up-”

“Hush now”, you silence him, stuffing your nipple into his mouth. 

Jungkook mewls in surprise, eyes widened and hands stretching from his body. One second, two. He whimpers and sucks, eyes falling closed and hands grasping your waist. His thighs tremble as his body makes sense of the almost drug like effect your nipples have on him. 

“There we go”, you get out, playing with his hair, “now you can’t lie anymore. You’re so much sweeter like this.” 

Jungkook breaks away, craning his neck.

“I’m not ly-”

“Pssst.”

You force his head down and shove your other nipple into his mouth. Jungkook keens, sucking on it instantly. He drags his hands up your bared back, tickling goosebumps to the surface. 

He feels good. Really good. His touch is so gentle while his mouth is so eager. He is still trying to hold back, to pretend as if he wasn’t utterly into this, but his mouth begins to betray him. He sucks but he also licks. Very sloppily and messily. And whenever he licks, he lets out a throaty purr, thighs tensing under your weight. 

Jungkook changes sides, sliding his hands to your breasts to hold them. His tongue darts out, circling your nipple quickly while his fingers knead the flesh. 

“That’s good. Your mouth is put to so much better use like this. It’s too pretty to be used for lying.” 

“Shut up”, Jungkook murmurs and takes your nipple between his teeth to tug. 

“Ah, hey”, you gasp, arching your back. 

He grins against you. This little shit has the audacity to grin after biting your nipple. 

You can’t let him get away with it. You twist a bundle of his hair and tug. Jungkook’s head tilts back, revealing his boyish grin and cloudy eyes. His lips are glossy from spit. 

“Did you just bite my nipple, you little brat?”

“And if I did?” 

“Then I might need to punish you.”

His grin turns into a smirk, his eyes glimmer. He slides his fingers to your nipples and pinches them both.

“Ah”, you flinch in surprise.

He chuckles, pinching them again. 

“Hey, brat”, you gasp, slapping his hands away. 

He laughs, looking so pleased with himself.

“That’s it. Tongue out.”

Jungkook obeys, sticking it out as far as possible. He can’t wait to have your nipples on it. Except that you don’t give him what he craves, you give his tongue a spank. 

“Ahng”, he lets out, pulling it back instinctively. So you grab him by his chin and pull him closer, spanking his tongue as you do. 

His wet muscle trembles and tenses. He mewls and sticks it out some more, accepting the next spank with a tense of his entire body. It was a tense of pleasure, the kind which builds up fire in one’s stomach. 

One last spank and then you soothe it by dragging your tongue over it. Jungkook moans, fingers cradling the back of your head and lips closing around your tongue to kiss you. You kiss him back for one second, two seconds. No longer than that. It makes him desperate. Good. You like him desperate. 

“Mhm”, you hum and pull him down into your chest by holding his cheeks between your thumb and fingers. 

Jungkook returns to heaven in a mewl and his mouth wide open to take you in. He holds your breasts, wasting no time this round. He sucks as much of your softness into his mouth as he can fit, then moves his head back so you would slip out of him again. He sucks the entire time, resulting in pressure around your nipple so wonderful you sigh his name. 

Jungkook purrs, repeating what he did on your other side. His name falls from your lips a second time, your hips grind back and forth on his thigh. 

You had a fight once, didn’t you? Jungkook can barely remember. Neither can you. The charged tension which is still present keeps reminding you however. You want each other like crazy yet are too proud to give in already. That’s good though, means that Jungkook can suck on your breasts until you are sensitive.

“So good. So much better than when you’re bratty.” 

Jungkook loves being punished though. He has a thing for it. He bites your other nipple and tugs. 

You squeal and writhe, instantly pulling him away by his hair. 

Jungkook looks up at you, grinning goofily.

“You did that to yourself, Mommy.” 

“Do I have to punish you again?”

Jungkook sticks out his tongue and nods his head. Look at him waiting so eagerly. He wants to be punished and you want to punish him, but where is the fun in a punishment that is wanted?

No, you are going to ruin him another way. You lift your butt from his thigh to make up for the difference in height between his lips and your chest. Once in position, you slap your tits on his tongue, watching in delight how his eyes roll back and his mouth goes slack. You lift yourself and slap his tongue again then change sides to repeat it with punishing strength. 

Jungkook moans, tongue shaking under your nipple. He curls the tip each time you are in contact with him, trying to get a feel of you that way. It is so good because he is shaking so much when does.

You lift yourself and slam down, pressing yourself closer afterwards to grind your nipple over his tongue. 

He gurgles out a sound of need, fingers dimpling your hips as he grips you desperately. 

You’ve got him. You wrap your arm around his head and push, smothering him with your breasts. Jungkook moans, sinking his face into them gladly and when you keep him there? He swears he actually spills into his pants. He moves his head from side to side as his eager mouth begins trying to be everywhere at the same time. His tongue is just as restless, wetting your entire chest as he swirls it over you aimlessly. He just loves to be like this. It is so obvious that he is currently worshiping your tits with no goal in mind. All that he lives and breathes for, are your breasts. And that he can use his mouth on them. 

“So good, such a good wet mouth you have. So good” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. You rock back and forth, coming to realise that there is something missing. You instantly make up for it by dropping down on his thigh again, pulling his head with you to make sure he wouldn’t leave your chest. 

Jungkook lets you move him gladly, mewling into you as he mouths at your tender flesh eagerly. He is so dizzy. You smell so good and feel even better.

You rock your hips, moaning in bliss now that there is finally something that brings you pleasure. Now granted, Jungkook’s mouth already feels like heaven, but you want even more. His warm, wet mouth and  his strong thigh in contrast. It is so good. 

He is wearing a pair of white cotton pants today, they are oversized and comfortable and they feel so good against your warmth. Just a little rough, but still soft enough, also perfectly thin to let his body heat through. How goddamn addicting.

“Fuck this is so good now that you’re quiet. So good”, you moan, fingers feeling up his scalp and neck while Jungkook mewls into you, licking you eagerly. 

He doesn’t even want to be really bratty anymore. Okay, maybe he tries it a little by grazing his teeth against your nipple but one corrective tug on his hair and he already gives up on it, burying his face in your softness with a defeated keen. His tongue soothes what he wanted to bite, his drool runs down your breasts but instantly gets slurped up by him.

“So good, fuck…” you moan breathily, hips dancing on him eagerly. 

You didn’t truly think about the concept of grinding for pleasure before you met your lovers. How could something like that be fun? You were wrong. You were very wrong. You could honestly jump them all day every day. It is so addicting to find pleasure this way, to use their bodies until you find your highest peak.

Today is such a day. You can’t get enough of the friction and the pressure and how little movements are enough to build pleasurable tension in your stomach. 

Jungkook is gone as well, high on a different kind of drug. He loves quarrelling with you when it is so obvious that it wasn’t serious. He loves it because he can be bratty and tease you and therefore get punished. He also loves the tension and how you look at him when you pretend to be annoyed. He loves it, but he can’t win against your breasts. He feels submissive and stupid and good. So good. As if he never ever wants to be bad again. 

He whimpers, glossy lips sucking on your right nipple helplessly while his fingers grasp your hips. He sucks with such eagerness that hot electricity shoot through you. 

“Is that nice?” 

He nods his head, changing sides because he doesn't want to neglect even an inch from your perfect chest. 

“Nice enough to confess your sins?”

Jungkook makes a sound. 

You twist his hair and pull, denying him of the only heaven he craves right now. 

“No please”, he gets out, looking up at you teary eyed and pouty lips parted. His cheeks are flushed, his dark hair messy. “Please.” 

“How much do you want it?”

“So much, please.”

“Then confess.”

He mewls, shaking his head. You stop it with a thug of his hair. You lift your hips, guiding your nipples to his lips. He moans and opens his mouth, drooling in anticipation. He is panting quicker the closer you come. 

Stop. 

Jungkook tries to make up for the last inch of distance but you hold him in place by his hair.

“No please”, he squeaks out, spilling tears. He looks agonised and tortured, fighting your grip helplessly. 

You cradle your right breast in your hand and move it around, showing him what he can’t do right now. 

He pulls an expression of pain, letting out  a sound which borders a sob.

“Confess and I’ll make all of this go away.  The pain, the withdrawal, you can be freed of it.”

“Mommy please.”

“I know sweet one, I know”, you coo, caressing his cheek, “Mommy can help you, but you have to be honest with me.”

Jungkook sobs softly, squeezing his eyes shut. You broke him. 

“I lied. I ruined your papers. I, I tried to look for a pen and, and accidentally knocked over the inkpot with my sleeve. I’m sorry.”

“See? Doesn’t the truth feel so much better?” 

“Please”, he cups your tender breasts, eyes widening in pleading, “please I did what you asked of me.” 

“You did. Go ahead then”, you allow him, letting go of his hair.

Jungkook takes the freedom instantly, burying his face back in your breasts with a loud moan. He squeezes them together in his hands, sucking and nibbling on you hungrily. 

“Fuck, that’s so good”, you sigh, rolling your hips against his thigh. You bury your hands in his hair and drop your head against his own head, closing your eyes. “You feel so good, sweetie. Keep going.” 

Jungkook agrees with a mewl, slipping his hands under your dress so he could hold your bared hips. No more fabric, he needs the sensation of your warm, soft skin. No panties. Sometimes in long dresses you go pantieless. Jungkook traces the naked paths where normally a piece of cotton would sit with tingling fingers. So soft. All of you. 

“Why are you so soft, Mommy?” he mewls into you, lips trembling as they suck on your left nipple.

“You’re so sweet”, you sigh, smiling blissfully. You scratch his scalp slowly, melting in his touch. “Ah fuck”, you breathe, hips desperately trying to search for more friction. You are dripping on him, soaking his pants. It feels good, but starts to feel like not enough. You feel so empty, so goddamn empty. 

He notices that you are using his thigh to pleasure yourself. His pants leg became very wet all of a sudden and your sweet scent tickles his nose. He wants to come up for air and ask if you feel good, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to miss even one second of your chest. But he has to. You are restless as if you are searching for more. 

“Is it enough?” he asks, mouth barely gone from your chest.

“I don’t know, I ahm.”

“Lift your hips, Mommy.” 

You follow his wish. Jungkook wiggles his arm under you so he can rest his hand on his thigh. He turns his palm up and sticks two of his fingers up. 

“Holy fuck. Holy fuck, baby, holy fuck”, you babble, claiming what he offers instantly. You sink down on his fingers, pulling him into your chest at the same time. 

You yelp in pleasure, Jungkook matches your enthusiasm, moaning into your chest  as he takes your nipple back inside. Your walls are throbbing and trembling around his digits, taking him in eagerly.

“Holy fuck, Jungkook”, you croak, arching your back and twisting his hair. 

This is finally scratching that itch. You are so stuffed, so goddamn full of him and it’s heaven. You chase the explosions of pleasure with eager rocks of your hips, filling the silence with moans and gasps. Like this, your clit is grinding on his lower arm while your spots inside are grinding on his fingers. They are so long, so perfectly girthy and groomed.

“Jungkook baby. Baby, this is so good, holy fuck”, you moan, dropping your face into his soft hair. 

“Mommy”, the word is muffled and barely audible, his mouth is sloppy and restless on your chest. Even more than before. It is as if he was experiencing more pleasure as well, as if this is scratching his itch as well. 

Truth is, it feels like that for him. You are so wet and so warm around his digits and so goddamn fucking soft. Jungkook goes insane because of it, lost enough in you that his own mind is betraying him and he swears that he can feel you on his cock. It’s impossible because he is crammed into his pants, but it feels like it. Wet, soft, warm. 

“Mommy, soft. Mommy”, he whimpers, curling his fingers desperately.

“Urgh fuck”, you get out and drop into him, forcing his back to fall against the sofa cushions and for your nipple to leave his lips. “Sorry.”

“Is okay”, he mumbles, free hand rubbing your back and eager mouth sucking on your breasts in the new position. 

“Curl them again.” 

Jungkook obeys, moaning with you when this makes you shake and keen. Your hips move on him sloppily, your pussy keeps tightening around him. 

“Fuck baby”, you rasp, grabbing the pillow edge and twisting it. 

Jungkook spills tears, thighs shaking under you and cock throbbing in his pants. Your heart is racing like crazy. He can hear it, feel it too. He tries to get to it with eager sucks and wiggles of his head. It not only forces his lips and tongue to grind against your nipple but his nose as well. You are so sensitive at this point, you genuinely can’t feel any difference between stimulation on your clit and your nipples. 

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, urgh fuck”, you chant, convulsing and shaking on him. You are close. Dangerously close. 

Jungkook knows that you are feeling so ruined by it that he can barely move his mouth. He is ruined, running on nothing but you and everything that happens to your body when you are experiencing pleasure. Your raised pulse, your choppy breathing, your higher body heat and the array of sweet scents. He also swears that your skin becomes even softer than usually, contradicting the spots where the electricity is bundled. Your nipples hard and swollen, your clit enlarged and throbbing, your folds heated and engorged. So soft yet so plump in pleasure. Jungkook swears this is heaven and he promises silently to never ever be bratty again (he will be bratty again).

He curls his fingers and knows that this was it.

“Jungkook, baby”, you get out, tensing up as your pussy begins throbbing and clenching. Your voice pitches, coming out as squeaks and mewls. Your fingers twist his hair and hold him oh so close. This is so intense that you can’t see as it happens. Every single spot of concentrated pleasure was set off, forcing your entire body to be engulfed in flames. 

Jungkook’s eyes roll back even closed. He sobs, truly sobs, losing against the warmth. He orgasms in his pants. No touch, no grind, no lick just your breasts and your pussy on his fingers was enough. He accidentally bruises your nipple from sucking too aggressively, free hand leaving a bruise on your waist as well. You don’t mind, riding the waves with him until you both come down together.

“Oh god, baby”, you get out, slipping off his fingers. You nudge them down into a relaxed position, sitting on his hand. You grind as slowly as possible, wanting to enjoy the warmth and pressure just a little longer. 

Jungkook calms down in twitches of his body and little whimpers into your chest as he mouths at your breasts tiredly. He is so ruined, head dizzy and vision blurry, and your chest comforts him beyond comparison. 

“How…” You clear your raspy throat. “...how are you?” 

“Good”, he squeaks and shakes, sobbing softly as he hugs you closer, “feeling submissive.” 

“Mhm”, you scratch his scalp soothingly, holding him safely, “good boy. You were such a good boy. Let it happen, you’re safe with me.” 

“Mommy.”

“My good boy. You made me feel so good.”

He agrees with a nod of his head, hips twitching up. It calls your attention. You need to check something.

“Can Mommy touch you for a moment?” 

He nods his head.

You cup his clothed and softened cock, squeezing it a little. Jungkook whimpers, hiding deeper in your chest to handle the overstimulation. 

“Just as I had thought. You came in your pants. It’s soaking the fabric.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay, sweetie. Did you enjoy yourself?” 

“So much.”

“Then that’s all that counts.” You give his soft dick one last caress then use the hand to ruffle his hair. “My good boy.”

Jungkook tugs his hand free and wraps both arms around you in a tight hug. He whimpers, dimpling your skin as he practically tries to melt you with him.

“I’m sorry for ruining your papers. I want to fix it, please.” 

“Mhm, we’ll find a solution together. But for now, hush, okay?”

“Okay, oh god. Can we hold each other? Please, Mommy.” 

“Of course, my baby.” You melt into him, resting your cheek on the crown of his head. “Let’s relax like this.” 

“I love you so much ” 

“I love you too, my baby. So much.���

[alwaysanundertone]

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x reader

angst

word count: 1.4 k

CW: mention of abusive household

tag list: @reggieswriter @call-me-mishi @moonyxoxo

part 1, part 2, part 3

Losing a Quidditch game usually resulted in James and Sirius taking their anger out on you, which you didn’t mind at all, but today was different. This time, Remus wasn’t going to leave you with the boys, Sirius was clearly upset with you, and James was probably going to be pissed for the loss.

You took a deep breath, taking Remus’s hand in yours and going straight to your dorm, waiting for your other boyfriends. You were pacing the room in front of Remus, the anxiety eating you alive; what you hated the most was the fact that you knew for sure that Sirius was mad at you.

“I’m an awful person, Rem, I couldn’t give Siri the attentions he needed when he was in pain“

“That’s right, you didn’t!” Sirius entered your room, James behind him. “I thought that being in a polyamorous relationship meant that I could count on three people when I was sad, instead you left me with poor James, do you want to stop this relationship now? So that you and Remus can go live happily ever after?! What the fuck, Y/N”

You felt your breath quicken, you knew that if he kept this up, you were going to break. “Sirius, you have to understand that- “

“No! None of that, I don’t want to hear it! You know what, Y/N? You’re just as heartless as everybody says, I was just too blind to see how the rumours were true.” You felt a pang to your chest, you knew that Sirius didn’t mean what he was saying, but it hurt you still. You spent your whole life battling against the fact that you usually didn’t know how to show love to the people you cared about, but you thought you’ve been good to them, you thought that all your efforts were seen. “You don’t give a fuck about other people’s wellbeing; you didn’t even ask me what happened! If we lost today, it was all your fault, you’re a self-centred-“

“Knock it off, Black. You don’t get to treat her like that! Just because your family is treating you like shit doesn’t mean you have to make everybody else feel what you’re feeling.”

“Remus, you’re the one to talk” You whipped your head in James’s direction. “You are the reason behind this mess, if you could control your stupid instincts everything would have been fine, and we’d be here celebrating our victory”

He scoffed. “Yeah, because it’s my fault if you both suck at Quidditch, isn’t it?” They kept on bickering, but you weren’t listening to them anymore, your mind too focused on Sirius words. You hated yourself for not being enough for them, maybe Dorcas was right, maybe you should have thought about it before diving headfirst in a poly relationship; you weren’t even sure if you were made for a relationship, period.  

“What, Y/N, too focused on yourself to care about our feelings?”

You decided you had enough, you needed time to think, and Sirius anger wasn’t helping you at all. “You know what? Yes, I am, because the ones who were supposed to love me just treated me like everybody else. So go fuck yourself, next time you’ll need me, I’ll be gone” You stormed off their dorm, running to your room and casting a spell, leaving them behind.

As you were about to start sobbing, Dorcas entered the room, sighing as she saw you on your bed. “You were right, Cas, maybe I’m not made for a relationship”

She shook her head, hugging you tightly. “Shh, don’t think about it now, okay? Tomorrow you’ll have time to process all of this, now you just have to rest.” She started scratching your back, singing a lullaby, and you found yourself falling in a deep slumber.

“Hey, Y/N” You mumbled something, covering your face with the duvet. “Y/N. It’s 2 P.M., you have to start studying”

That made you sit up so quickly, you felt dizzy. “Shit, the test” How could  you be so dumb?  Sacrificing all of the work you put to ace this test for a stupid fight was really pathetic, even for you.

“Yeah, the test, listen I finished your notes and made you some flashcards, now you just have to start studying, but first you should eat-“

The idea of seeing the marauders made you physically ill. “I don’t want to go-“

“Yes, I know, I brough you some food” She shook a paper bag in front of you. The fact that she spent her morning doing your work and even brought you food made you feel really close to crying, and she noticed it. “Nope, no more crying. I know you, you’re about to thank me, don’t do that! I’m your best friend, I love you and this is nothing, okay? I just want you to be happy, and I know you will feel like shit if you don’t pass this test. So, start studying, okay?” She kissed the top of your head. “I got to go, Marlene’s waiting for me. Love you, bye!”

She left you on the bed, staring at the now closed door.

You looked at the sandwich: she knew you too well, if she didn’t bring you food you wouldn’t have eaten, but since she brought it to you, you felt guilty.

You pulled out your flashcards and started eating, you could be heartbroken, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to fail for your stupid feelings.

Meanwhile, Sirius just woke up. His head was feeling heavy, but most of all, he was regretting every single thing he said to you. Deep down, he knew that you were just trying to be there for everyone, and that it wasn’t an easy task. Remus didn’t control his instincts; he couldn’t blame him for being clingy.

“Someone’s decided to grace us with his presence” The werewolf was looking down at him, his brows furrowed: he knew that look, he was mad.

“I’m so, so sorry” And just like that came the tears. Remus was stubborn, but if there was something that made him cave, that was his lovers’ tears, so he hugged him close to his chest. “I was awful to you yesterday, Y/N is going to leave us, I know it, and I hate to be the one to do this to you. If you want to leave me I will understand”

James scoffed. “Leave you? You really think we are this heartless? We know you didn’t want to act like that, Sirius. We just want to know what is happening, and then we’ll go and apologize to Y/N”

Remus scratched his head. “Thing is, I don’t know how we will get to her. I went to her room earlier and Cas was about to physically fight me”

“She won’t fight us, Rem, for God’s sake we’re Y/N’s boyfriends, she can’t stand between us. Back to you, Sirius, can you tell us why you acted that way?”

The long-haired man sighed. “It’s just- You know how awful the relationship with my family is, and I know it’s wrong but when I get their letters I don’t want to talk about it, I just expect everyone to know how I’m feeling and what to do about it. So, when she wasn’t there for me this time, I lashed out. Rationally, I know that Remus wasn’t being clingy because he didn’t want to share her, but because he gets super protective during the full moon. I hate myself for treating her that way, for using her weakness against  her, but I didn’t know how to communicate how I was feeling, so I just took my anger out on her, in the wrong way” He chuckled sadly. “If I was her, I’d break up with me.”

James shook his head. “She’s too good for her own good, Sirius, you know she won’t ever leave you. But we’ll have to talk it out, you know? You’ll have to be vulnerable, and I know  it’s difficult, but you’ll have to try for us”

Sirius nodded, everything for you. James pulled out the map, but as soon as he saw your name, gasped.

“What? What have you seen?”

“Y/N is in the infirmary” They exchanged a look, running out of their dorm room.

[lulunothulu]

“Jealousy, jealousy” pt. 2

Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader

@86laura11: Oh my gosh. I want more. What’s next? Does Kate apologize to her friend? Does Tyler take her on a real date? I need to know.

Summary: After a night of pizza and talking, Tyler finally asks you out on a proper date—asking Kate to help you get ready.

Content: just cute fluff

Part one

Both you and Tyler finished off the pizza he brought in under thirty minutes, realizing you both skipped dinner. Now, sprawled across your bed, you and Tyler look up at the popcorn ceiling.

“That was really good,” he tells you. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

You groan. “I think I might burst.”

Tyler laughs, propping himself on one arm and facing you. Your hair was down—strew around your head like sun rays—and your face content.

You were goddamn beautiful.

“So I have a question,” Tyler starts.

You turn to face him, almost surprised that he’s as handsome up close as he was far away. You couldn’t believe this was happening, much less that he had something to ask you.

“What is it?” You respond, propping yourself on your elbow, the same way Tyler did.

“Well…I was wonderin’,” he starts, southern drawl catching on his tongue. “Would you maybe��whenever you’re free…wanna go out on a date with me?”

Your heart began to pound on your chest. Excitement and joy bubble up your spine and you smile at Tyler widely.

“Yes, I’d love that.”

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asks.

“I’m sure Javi and Kate wouldn’t mind if I skipped out tomorrow,” you tell him.

Tyler’s eyes widen, he forgot about Kate. What if you were still mad at her for what she did?

“Let me text them,” you tell him.

You:Guys….

Kate:Y/N…?

Javi:Are you okay?

You:Jake just asked me out…

Kate: HOLY SHIT HE FINALLY DID IT.

You: wait… you knew?

Kate: why tf do you think I was talking to him?

Javi: do I have to be here for this?

You: yes.

Kate: YES.

You: Kate, can you come over after the leaves in a bit? Also is it okay if I skip out tomorrow, Javi?

Kate: Sounds good.

Javi: Sure

You turn to Tyler who’s still watching you with a smile and feel the blush creep up.

“They, uh, said it was alright to skip out,” you tell him.

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sounds good, Sweetheart.”

He rolls off the bed, standing in front of you to help you up. With his hand offering to help you, you take it and are swiftly hoisted up to your feet.

Tyler pulled you too hard though, because you feel yourself crashing into his hard chest. You look up at him, startled. He looks down at you, amused.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at 11,” he tells you, kissing your cheek before walking toward your door.

You’re still vibrating from his kiss when you realize something.

Did he say 11 as in, 11 AM?

“11 AM?” You ask.

Tyler just nods, winking your way and walking out the door.

Not even a minute later, your door rattles as someone knocks on your door.

You smile, walking toward the door and swinging it open to find Kate standing there, excitedly beaming at you.

“Oh my god! He just came from your room!” She beams.

“Yeah,” you say. “We had pizza for dinner.”

You let her in, watching as she takes a deep breath before turning around to face you. Her face is now riddled in remorse, brows furrowing together.

“I’m sorry,” she starts. “About making you cry.”

You wave her off. “It’s fine, I’m about to start my period soon. I’m just hormonal.”

“Are you sure?” She asks.

“I mean, the plan was to get me jealous. And it worked,” you laugh. “It worked big time.”

Kate smiles at you before shaking your head and pulling you into a hug. “I really am sorry.”

You hug her tightly. “It’s okay, really. How could I stay mad at you when I have a date with Tyler tomorrow morning?”

She pulls you back, smile back on her face mixed with confusion. “Morning?”

You only shrug.

———

The next morning, Tyler’s up bright and early.

10 AM to be exact.

He wanted to be ready for your date aaaand he still needed to get your number.

As quietly as he can, Tyler tiptoes to the motel door he and Boone share before opening it and sneaking out. He walks toward Javi’s room, knocking when he arrives.

Javi answers the door, rubbing his eyes. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Sorry, can I have Y/N’s number?” He asks.

“Did you forget to ask last night?” Javi smiles.

Tyler’s about to respond, but stops when he hears, “Javi? Who’s at the door?”

From behind Javi walks Kate, wearing one of Javi’s shirts. Tyler’s brows raise, a smile forming on his lips.

“You and Kate?” He asks.

“Here’s her number,” Kate smiles, handing him a piece of paper with your number on it.

Tyler smiles, waving them goodbye before checking his watch.

10:20 AM.

He figured he would go to the diner across the street for some coffee before texting you.

Tyler walks into the diner, surveying the place before stopping when he finds you sitting in the booth in the back.

You’re wearing a lilac sundress and your hair cascades around your shoulders as you sip your coffee.

Tyler approaches, a wide smile plastered on his face. “Well, what brings you here?”

You look up at him and he could’ve sworn you looked even more beautiful than normal.

Your cheeks are rosy, face covered in light makeup that accentuates your already gorgeous face, and your lips are a natural pinky color.

“Wow,” he gawks. “You—you look just…wow.”

You smile up at him and he could’ve sworn he melted away.

“Thank you,” you respond, your sweet voice singing into his ears.

Tyler clears his throat. “Are you ready?”

You nod, slipping out of the booth and watching as Tyler tosses some bills on the table.

“Let’s get out of here, sweetheart.”

———

Tyler drove you almost an hour away into a small town full of Gilmore Girls-esque house and people.

“I cannot believe you just found this random town,” you marvel.

You’d both been walking around town after a quick brunch at a local diner.

Tyler’s hand kept brushing against yours as you walked, looking at all the shops.

“Yeah,” he tells you. “I’d seen it a few days ago and thought it would be a great place to just walk around with you.”

You glance up at him, a smile already on your lips.

“You’ve been planning this for days?”

Tyler looks down at you, stopping to face you completely. He’s wearing his white cowboy hat, his signature flannel, and jeans paired with boots. He looks normal but different at the same time.

Yet, he’s taking your breath away.

“I have been,” he admits. “I’ve been planning this for longer than then to be honest.”

“How long?” You ask.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Since the first day I met you.”

“That was almost a month ago!” You laugh.

He only shrugs. “I knew what I wanted the moment you scowled at me from the back seat of your truck.”

You laughed, remembering how he had driven next Javi trying to beat you all in getting to a tornado. You remember his eyes on you and your scowl when he winked at you.

“I knew you’d be a tough one to crack after that,” he finishes. “When did you know you liked me?”

You grab his hand in yours, feeling the roughness of the callouses on his palm.

“That night when you came to apologize for stealing the tornado out from under us,” you reply.

Tyler laughs. “Yeah, I guess that must’ve sweetened the sour feelings you had about me.”

“Even more so when you told Scott off for yelling at Javi, Kate, and I,” you admit.

After Tyler stole the tornado from you guys, Scott was a raging mess. Angry that Javi didn’t drive fast enough, Kate for not sending the second one you could’ve gone after, and you for not seeing it on the radar.

Tyler walked right up to Scott, telling him to back off and you could’ve sworn your heart grew four times its size that night.

“Yeah,” he smiles, reminiscing on the argument. “I couldn’t let him talk down to my girl.”

You smile up at him. How could you have gotten so lucky?

“Well, I’m glad you did,” you whisper, watching as something clicks behind Tyler’s eyes.

His eyes search yours before falling to your lips. “Y/N—”

“Yes,” you simply say.

“I didn’t even get to—”

“Tyler just kiss me,” you order.

Tyler chuckles, pulling you into him and lifting you to his level. “Alright, Sweetheart.”

Lips connect with yours, sweet and soft. They move, urging to get to now every inch of them while you allow yourself to relax in Tyler’s arms.

When Tyler’s stubble tickles your nose, sending you into a little fit of giggles, he pulls away.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, still smiling.

“Your stubble tickles,” you laugh.

“I can shave tonight.”

You oil him back into your lips, pecking softly and then pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Only pulling away to smile at him.

“Don’t you dare.”

[carriesthewind]

Ok. I am maybe kind of losing my mind just a little bit.

A few days ago, I mentioned in a post that the IA only cares about information being digitized, not about actual digital access. And I mentioned that access includes patrons being able to actually find what they are looking for, and suggested IA did not prioritize that critical aspect of access. But I didn't really go into any more detail.

So someone over on bluesky linked to this write-up of a talk Brewster Kahle gave about using so-called AI. And one of his reported statements made my mouth drop open in shock.

...and then I read further in the article and realized it was incorrectly reporting basic facts around Hachette, so I had to go and listen to the whole speech myself.* (And I want to say, briefly - he raises some legitimate potential uses for LLMs! He's kind of a dick about some of it ("it's up to us to go and keep [Balinese] culture alive"), but some of the things he's talking about actually seem useful.)

*Incidentally, while Kahle doesn't lie about the ALA brief in the speech, he absolutely misleads about the nature and facts of the case and deliberately omit the part of the story where the IA decided to suspend the one-to-one owned-to-loan ratio thing, despite repeatedly emphasizing that one-to-one was what the IA was doing with their lending program.

And oh my god. He really said what the article reports. (This portion starts around 20:10.)

He says that the IA has scanned over 18,000 periodicals. And that they used to have professional librarians manually create descriptions of the periodicals in order to catalog them. (Sidenote: there are existing directories, but he describes their licensing terms as "ridiculous." This is not a field I know much about, but I spoke to one person who agreed, though for different reasons. His reason is that you can only license, not purchase, the directory descriptions. The person I spoke to was instead focused on the prices demanded for the licenses. Regardless, the idea of creating an open, free directory seems both like an incredible amount of work and an amazing resource...if it was accurate.)

But according to Kahle, it took 45 minutes to an hour to create a description and catalog each periodical.

And so now, instead, they're using AI to make the descriptions and so it only takes 7-10 minutes!

"And yes it hallucinates, and it has some problems, and whatever — but it’s a lot faster than having to write it yourself!"

Oh. My god.

Just.

YOU ARE KNOWINGLY INTRODUCING AI HALLUCINATIONS INTO YOUR CATALOG?!

(And yes, he says that they are "confirmed by a librarian" but it can't really be, not if it's only taking 7-10 minutes! Maybe the librarian can do a quick check for super obvious errors, but actually checking a AI's summary work requires actually going back to the source and reviewing it yourself!)

I just....

I need to emphasize for those of you for who aren't familiar - if a book or article is miscataloged, it is effectively lost. Because it doesn't mater if a library or an archive owes it - if someone can't find it when they are looking for it, it is not only inaccessible, the only way to find it again is through chance. Imagine if you went into a library, but instead of organized shelves (where if even if you can't find what you're looking for, the librarians know where to look), every single book was just piled in a heap.

If a book is miscateloged, it still exists, but it is lost, not truly accessible. And they know that this is happening, "but whatever." Because Brewster Kahle doesn't actually care about real, practical, digital access. (Much less non-digital access.)

(And then to top it off, he goes on to criticize the Library of Congress for not being "access oriented.")

I just. 18,000 periodicals. And they've knowing, recklessly lost who knows how many of them. I feel like crying.

18,000 periodicals.

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family B-Side (3)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (on the way!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

Did I already post today? Yes. Did I also post two chapters of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins today? Yes. I am just incredibly productive today, who knows when it's gonna happen again lol

Anyway, finally! The next B-Side! This bitch has been stewing my guys, so I hope you enjoy it lol

There are two memes at the very end of this one, so definitely stick around

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't 😘

--------

For four weeks, Eddie feels himself losing his mind. He finds gifts in his locker every other day, and he's convinced they're from Steve Harrington. He now has a taxidermied bat, a fancy-looking vial with a skull and crossbones embossed in the glass and filled with mysterious liquid, an actual human skull that Eddie immediately incorporates into his next campaign, and a spider. An actual spider. A live spider that, after a little research, he learns is a fucking Black Widow that seems unnaturally friendly.

Eddie can't stress that part enough. Multiple people have mistaken the spider for an intricate vest patch because it just sits perfectly still over his chest pocket. It only moves to rub its head against Eddie's fingers whenever his hand passes over it, and even then it's careful to avoid hurting him with its pincers.

He names her Nox.

Those aren't the only gifts he's received, but they're the most notable, and Eddie is overwhelmed and flustered by the positive attention he's suddenly receiving.

The other thing driving him crazy is Pubert Addams, a guy Eddie had never paid much attention to before but now considers his mortal enemy. He's convinced Pubert is, at worst, potentially abusive or, at best, delusional and taking advantage of Steve's kindness and inability to brutally turn him down. Or maybe Eddie is the crazy one; he doesn't actually know. Whichever it is, Eddie is ready to take the very nice dagger he now has (gift number 15; yes, Eddie has been counting) and stab him with it.

Because he can't get more than two minutes alone with Steve before Pubert appears out of nowhere. Eddie runs into Steve in the hall while everyone else is in class? Pubert shows up with a hall pass two seconds later and literally waltzes Steve away from him. Eddie finds Steve camped out in the library during study hall? Pubert materializes in the chair next to Steve before Eddie can sit down, leaning far too close as he asks Steve to explain something from their shared Gothic Literature class. Eddie, by some miracle, is behind Steve in the lunch line (and he calls this a miracle because Steve always brings his lunch in a pink box with black skulls, which Eddie considers incredibly brave of him to carry around like it's nothing)? Before Eddie can do more than say hi and get a blinding smile in return, Pubert fucking Addams shows up and drags Steve away while promising to share his lunch.

Eddie is just about to lose the last shred of patience he's struggling to maintain when Steve finds him. Ironically, it's the same bathroom where they first talked, the one with mysterious mold growing in the corner that Eddie is convinced is some new species. It's the only bathroom with a busted smoke detector, and Eddie goes there to get high during his free period.

He's halfway through a joint, smoke curling around him as he sits on the sink counter and tries not to think about what else has been there, when the door swings open, Steve walks in, and Eddie chokes on his inhale.

"Don't die like this," Steve says, stepping closer and patting Eddie's back like they know each other, "It's no fun."

Eddie finally gets himself under control, taking a deep breath and wincing at the way his lungs burn. "No worries," he croaks out, regretting the departure of Steve's hand on his back. "What are you doing here? Please don't tell me you plan to use this bathroom."

"As curious as I am about the bacteria teeming on these toilet seats, no." Steve sounds genuine, like he really does want to swab the toilet seats and see what grows. Instead, he places his bag on the sink and pulls out a familiar vial with a familiar skull and crossbones. "I just came to drink."

"Oh?" Eddie says, leaning forward with a grin. He looks Steve up and down, taking in the pale blue sweater vest and immaculately pressed jeans. "You don't look the drinking type, Stevie."

Steve hums, popping the cork out of the vial and taking a swig from it. "This isn't exactly hard stuff," he says after he swallows, distracted enough that Eddie thinks he misses his eyes lingering on Steve's throat as it bobs.

"Just beer then?"

"What?" Steve asks, looking at Eddie like he's delusional. "No, it's cyanide and vinegar."

He says it with such conviction that Eddie believes him despite knowing cyanide is poison. "Metal," he says, looking away to take another drag of his joint as he struggles to break through his own awkwardness and hold a conversation that will somehow sweep Steve off his feet and make him forget all about Pubert Addams.

Before he can think of something clever and smooth and funny, Steve leans close and raises a hand to his chest. Eddie is about to warn him that Nox is, in fact, real when the spider scuttles onto Steve's fingers and settles in his palm. She does a little up-and-down motion, circles in his hand twice, and rubs her head against his wrist. "You've been taking good care of her," Steve says.

"Uh, yeah. How is she not biting you right now?" Eddie asks, remembering all the times Nox has warningly snapped at others who tried to touch her.

Steve snorts and allows Nox to return to her spot on Eddie's vest. "I raised her," he says, his tone casual like he isn't admitting to showering Eddie with inexplicable gifts for the past four weeks, "of course, she won't bite me."

"So, it has been you," Eddie replies, wanting to hear it from Steve himself.

With a soft hum, Steve takes another sip from his bottle. "Who else would it have been?"

Eddie licks his lips, takes another drag of his joint to brace himself, and hops off the counter. "So, uh, does that mean you li--"

Before the rest of the question can be asked, the bathroom door swings open again, and Eddie feels his eye twitch as Pubert Addams frowns at them. "So, this is where you were," he says, walking over to Steve and putting an arm around his shoulders.

"I told you I was going to the bathroom," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he stuffs the vial back into his bag.

Pubert looks Eddie over, a derisive huff escaping him as he dismisses Eddie and looks at Steve. "On the other side of the school? Really?" he asks, and Eddie would be overthinking what that means if he weren't sure his veins were about to burst.

"We were talking, you know," Eddie says, gaining Pubert's attention again. Steve looks at him, too, his eyes a little brighter.

"I'm sure," Pubert replies, rolling his eyes as he takes Steve's bag. "And now we're leaving." With that, he leads Steve out of the bathroom, the door swinging shut before Steve can do more than smile apologetically and wave.

Anger surges through Eddie, and the shaky drag he takes to finish off his joint does absolutely nothing to soothe it.

He's going to kill Pubert Addams.

--------

Funnily enough, Steve's mother doesn't learn about his crush until he's five weeks into it. When Debbie finally does discover the crush, it's because she walks in on Fester and Steve decorating homemade cookies shaped like anatomically correct hearts. She pauses in the doorway, looking between the two covered in flour and raspberry jam, and asks, "What on earth is going on here?"

Steve looks up, sees this as his chance to finally tell Debbie, and smiles brightly at her. "I'm in love, Mother. He's allergic to raspberry, and Father agreed to help me make him cookies with raspberry filling, so he can feel the same breathlessness I do when I see him," he explains, using his thumb to wipe raspberry jam off his cheek.

Debbie stares at him for a few seconds before looking at Fester. "How long have you known?" she asks.

"Five weeks," Fester admits, looking apologetic. "I wanted to tell you, Pumpkin! But Steve asked me not to so he could tell you himself."

She sighs and walks over to the island, sitting on the edge of a stool and taking one of the cookies for herself. She bites off a pulmonary vein, looking thoughtful as she chews. "I must admit, these are damn good cookies," she finally says, taking one more bite before passing it to Fester to finish. "Tell me about him."

And Steve does. He gushes about Eddie for a solid hour without taking a single breath, spilling everything he's seen Eddie do and how he's reacted to all of Steve's gifts and how he gets so obviously jealous when Pubert butts into their conversations. He tells Debbie about Eddie not screaming when he saw Nox, about him selling drugs, and about his interest in music. Steve laments his hair but eagerly describes the treatment routine he already has in mind.

By the time he's done, the cookies are decorated and his mother's expression has grown a little pained. "Steve, darling, come with me," she says, getting up from the chair and leading him out of the kitchen while Fester starts to clean up.

Steve waits until Debbie has brought him to her spare room to ask, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Well, did you remember my rules about crushes?"

"Yeah. I've talked to him a lot."

Debbie smiles and brings Steve over to the bed, sitting him down and straightening his hair before perching next to him. "Then, you're not in trouble, but you've been going about this all wrong, dear."

"Should I tell Pubert to stop making Eddie jealous?"

"Absolutely not," Debbie says, shaking her head firmly. "In fact, he could try harder. Nothing gets to a man like someone he can't have, especially if he thinks they're in distress."

Steve blinks, frowning slightly as he tries to figure out where, exactly, he's gone wrong. Eddie seems perfectly enamored with him, after all, and Pubert's goading is encouraging his affections, which is the only reason Steve has allowed it to continue. "Did I give him a live spider too soon?" Steve asks, figuring that's the problem here.

"No, that's not...," Debbie trails off, mutters something about Fester being an idiot, and clears her throat. "Steve, your father is the last person you should approach for love advice."

"But...you agreed to marry him, so he must have done something right," Steve says.

Debbie barks a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. "I married your father for his money. I attempted to kill his entire family and only stopped when he promised to give me everything I asked for. I would hardly call him a casanova."

Steve nods along, smiling a little as she speaks. He's heard their great love affair many times, but he doesn't get tired of it. "But you actually love him anyway, right? Father says it's because he showered you with gifts. So, that's what I'm doing."

"I...do love your father," Debbie admits, sighing as though she doesn't know how that happened either. "But it's less because of his gifts and more because...he gave me the devotion I wanted. Anyway, if you learn anything from us, it should be that love comes second."

"What comes first?"

Debbie smiles, the expression positively devious, and Steve can't help returning it. "Obsession," she says, her shoulders rolling back some as pride fills her. "Occupy his every waking thought. Make yourself irresistible. Make him dream of you at night. Overwhelm him with desire until he simply must act on it."

"Oh," Steve says, thinking of how his father acts around Debbie and realizing that obsession never quite went away. But it's worked out well for them, and he knows his mother has experience with luring men into her arms. He nods once and asks, "So, what should I do?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Debbie says, her smile bright and her eyes filled with excitement. "You'll have Eddie falling to his knees before you in no time."

--------

Eddie didn't think it could get worse. He was already attracted to Steve, already distracted by every little movement.

He was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

Because here he is, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty and his cheeks warm because of Steve. He's not even doing anything. Well, that's not true. Steve is curling his tongue around a lollipop before sucking it into his mouth like he'll die without it. But it's more than that. It's the painted-on jeans that hug his legs; it's the pastel pink hoodie (with little bats on the cuffs) that rides up whenever Steve moves to show off a strip of skin just above his waistband; it's the way he finishes the lollipop and pulls out lipgloss, casually telling Pubert it's raspberry flavored as he puts it on.

Eddie swallows around the dryness in his mouth, gripping his locker door so tight that his knuckles turn white as he looks inside it. Sitting innocently on top of everything is a Tupperware container of cookies with raspberry filling (according to the label), and Eddie is ready to eat one just so he can die knowing what Steve's lips taste like.

That's not even the worst of it. The worst is that Steve transfers into Eddie's Music Theory class, smiling innocently while the teacher introduces him and then directs him to sit at the empty desk next to Eddie. When he's close, Eddie realizes Steve smells like cookies and cream ice cream, and he's tempted to ask if Steve smells like his favorite flavor on purpose.

The teacher saves him from the embarrassment of blurting out the question by announcing a project. The teacher then dooms him by telling everyone they're required to work with their desk neighbor. Eddie grips his pen tightly when the teacher tells them to spend the rest of their class time discussing the project.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention. When he looks over, Steve is leaning forward on his desk, chin propped in his hand as he looks at Eddie. "Want to come over to my place after school? To work on the project, I mean."

Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds, his tongue stuck in his throat. To his credit, Steve doesn't say anything or call Eddie out for staring at him. He just waits patiently with a little smile curling his lips. Eddie finally clears his throat, his voice coming out a little strained when he says, "Yeah, sure, sounds good. After school. Your place. Project."

Smooth. Real smooth.

When Steve just smiles wider and stretches his arms above his head, pulling his hoodie up, while suggesting they do the project on the evolution of heavy metal music, Eddie realizes he's probably going to die after school.

He can't wait.

-------

Tag List (I think there's still room for a few more people ^_^)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara

@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

And, finally, a two-for-one meme special because I couldn't decide which was funnier:

[rainylana]

“I’m not jealous.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: jealousy over the new secretary at his job creates tension over dinner.

warnings: smut, language, jealous reader, threats of a spanking, dom eddie, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex.

Forks scrapped against the dinner plates, chewing sounds and food pushing around with the utensil. A candle that still smoked from being blown out. The tv, still on. The lights flickered from a dying lightbulb. Jaw’s were tense and fist were balled up. To say less, the energy was awkward.

“You gonna keep ignoring me?” Eddie put down his fork, looking at you with annoyance.

“Mhm.“ You hummed, kicking your feet under the table.

He’d been late coming home for the fourth time this week. Your relationship with him was at an all time low, tense and angry. Neither of you knew why, but you didn’t like it. You both were always so stressed and angry, snapping and irritable.

He claimed that he had been working extra hours, but you knew there was a new girl working at the shop as a secretary, so your jealousy spiked to an all time high. He’d had the nerve to talk about her, talk about how good she was and how sweet and knowledgeable she was about cars. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose to make you jealous.

“You’re being ridiculous, y/n.” He leaned back with annoyance. “What’s the fuckin’ attitude for, huh?”

“Attitude?” You scoffed, putting down your fork. “I do not have an attitude. You’re the one who showed up late. I had dinner ready.”

He groaned loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Angel, I told you I took up more hours. That means I’m working more hours.���

“Don’t talk to me like I’m dumb.” You argued, pushing your plate forward with an angry huff.

“You’re actin’ it.” He challenged.

“Well, you’re just a dick.” You huffed, pouting your lip. “You should at least come home on time when you know I’ve got dinner made.”

“Oh, my god,” He chuckled in amazement. “What about more hours do you not understand? Are you feeling okay? Did you get your period?” He looked at you inquisitively.

“Oh, typical man.” You scoffed, crossing your arms in a huff. “Blaming my period on everything?”

“Well, are you?” He retorted.

“No!” You snapped, banging your fist against the table. “No, I’m not on my fucking period, Eddie, jesus!”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands, pressing hard against his forehead to numb his head ache. “Whatever.” He was going to drop it, not wanting to argue.

Maybe you were insecure, just simply jealous of the idea of another woman hanging around Eddie. It struck you odd, considering it had never bothered you before. You never typically got jealous. Eddie was always very good at assuring you that you were the only girl he had eyes for.

“Is this about Scarlett?” You could feel his eyes on you, your own looking down at the floor. “Because if it is, you need to tell me instead of biting my head off.”

He took your silence as a yes, and your eyes misted over, despite your best efforts.

“Y/n,” He sighed. “You know that’s stupid. I am not in slightest way interested in her.” He pressed, brown eyes trying to find yours, cocking his head in your direction.

“But you like her.” Your voice cracked, fingers digging into your skin.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “She’s good at her job. She’s got the credentials, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna up and marry her, y/n. Why are you so jealous of her?” He tried to get you to open up, reaching across the table to get you to look at him.

“M’ not jealous.” You pouted, a tear falling down your face.

“Put that lip away.” He said firmly, “Look at me and talk like a big girl.” His dominating tone made your belly warm, sending a chill down your spine that made you look up.

“I’m not jealous.” You tried again, eyes swelling into hearts at his beauty, even if he was irritated at you.

“Could have fooled me.” He raised a brow, crossing his arms like yours had been. “You just having a bad day or what? Because I’m warning you now you’re heading for a spanking if you don’t relax.”

The very threat made you throb, your cheeks flare up with warmth that he didn’t miss. You sniffled, wiping your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He gave you a minute to calm down, tapping his fingers against the table, trying to find the words to make you feel better. “Y/n, you know there’s no reason to be jealous over her. Over anybody.” He said gently, holding out his hand for you to hold. He nodded to it, watching you reach out to take it.

“You and l know you’re the only girl I’ve got eyes for. I’m staying late because we need the money, because I’m trying to give you a good life. I could care less about her, y/n.” He squeezed your hand, speaking firmly, yet soft, trying to ease your stress. “I love you and only you, got it? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. Why would I waste my time with someone else when I’ve got it made right here.”

Your eyes were swollen with tears that fell down you face, and you gave a nod that made him untense. “I know,” You hiccuped. “I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know, I just miss spending time with you.”

“It’s okay,” He smiled, rubbing your hand. “I just don’t want you worrying about this because there’s nothing to worry about.”

You smiled back and scooted closer to the table, sniffling. “Yeah.”

He reached out to wipe your cheek. “And I know you miss our time together. I miss it too, but we can still spend plenty of time together, honey. We’ll just have to adjust to this for the time being, okay? Nothing to get worked up about.”

You blushed, embarrassed at the tantrum you threw. “I’m sorry again.”

“Don’t be.” He soothed you. “I understand. Come here.” He took your hand and led you around the table, pulling you next to him so he could hug you lovingly. He was warm and embraced you gently, wrapping his arms around you in a tender hug.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been a jackass.” He spoke into your neck, torsos glued together.

“Me too.” You muffled into his chest. “I’ve acted like such a spoiled brat.”

He chuckled into your hair. “You have, if I do say so, darling.”

You whined, nestling into his chest. “Not gonna spank me are you?” You smirked.

“I should,” He looked down at you. “But I’m not gonna, since you’ve got a valid reason for being upset, but I am gonna fuck the fussy out of you.”

Your belly twisted and you looked up with doe eyes. “Please, do,”

He hungrily kissed you, knocking your head back as his lips lurched forward in a needy kiss. He pulled you into his lap, your legs going either side of his on the seat as he kissed down your neck. You hummed happily, looking up to the ceiling as he left sticky, wet spots down your skin, suckling and marking as he went. He pulled down your shirt as far as he could, kissing the exposure of your breasts.

“Fuck,” You whimpered, rocking your hips into his growing bulge.

“Watch it,” He bit your shoulder. “I’ll still punish you.”

You clamped your mouth shut and grinded on his bulge as he sucked on your neck, moaning and curling your fingers in the curls of his hair. As much as you loved a good spanking from your boyfriend, he really knew how to make it hurt.

He picked you up and walked you over to the couch, dropping you on your back as he towered over you, smiling happily with shiny teeth. You smiled back, giggling lightly as he reconnected the kiss. He rested between your legs, reaching down to cup your pussy with his palm. You hummed with satisfaction, shimming down your shorts and underwear in one go. You went to go for his belt until he stopped you.

“No,” He grabbed your hand, giving it a delicate kiss. “All about you tonight, baby. Want you to know how much you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

He cupped your cheek and continued sucking on your neck, letting you relax as he dragged a finger through your folds, sending a shock through your body. He moved all the way down to your chest before he flung out shirt off, taking each of your nipples in his mouth and spending time to worship each of them, all the while he continued to graze over your pussy.

Then he moved to your arms, licking them with his tongue to your elbow before switching to the other. You were shaking, bucking into his hand and whispering pleas. He got to your stomach, giving a soft kiss to your navel as he finally pushed a finger inside of your cunt.

You moaned loudly, grabbing his hair.

“Feel better?” He smirked, coming up to you as he finger fucked your pussy.

You nodded, voice too full and shaky to speak coherently. He pressed another messy kiss to your lips, attacking his tongue with yours: His thumb went to your clit, circling and pressing, digging and swiping. It made you pant, shake and tremble in his arms. You had to break apart the kiss to cry out, looking up to the ceiling in euphoria. “I’m gonna cum.” You sobbed, rocking your body into him.

“Yeah?” He smiled coyly, entering yet another finger inside of you, rings shining with your arousal. “Fuckin’ cum then you little brat.”

You cried out as you came, your body shaking with pleasure as you sobbed and bit your lip. Eddie rubbed the heel of his palm against your clit, helping you through your high as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“I need you.” You panted hotly. “Please, need you bad.”

He hurriedly unbelted himself before rutting his thick cock into your pulsing cunt, making you scream as you wrapped your arms around his body. “Fuck,” He groaned, grabbing the arm of the couch as he looked down at his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. His pubic hair grazed at your overstimulated clit, making your muscles jolt and spasm. He thrusted faster and faster, the loud sound of skin slapping mixed with his heavy pants and your choked gasps and whines.

He came within seconds into your cunt, collapsing atop of you with a heavy huff,

[mastermindmiko]

Tests

Paring: Fred Weasley + fem!reader

word count: 2124

Summary: Angelina has been suggesting that you're pregnant, you're sure that she's wrong, but what's the harm in checking? She was right.

Warnings: Pregnancy, the future, ANGST with happy ending. Maybe some errors, I wrote this at 2 am.

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

I've known that something was wrong for two weeks now. I've been feeling sick, and I've missed my period. I've been craving a lot of different foods that I wouldn't usually eat, and my friends have noticed.

Angelina pointed it out to me this morning and that's how we got where we are now. She's holding out not one, not two, but three tests for me to try. I shake me head and look at her incredulously. I chuckle, "No way, Angie."

"Yes way, You might be." Angelina says, waving them in the air. I pace around the room again, and then stop to look at her and say, "Fred and I are always safe."

"Condoms only work most of the time, not always." Angelina says, and I sit on my bed, contemplating the thought. Angelina adds, "You've been craving things, you've been moody, you missed a period!"

"There has to be another explanation. I'm sure. I am sure that I'm not pregnant!" I say, and then Angelina walks from her bed to mine and says, "If you're so sure, then what's the harm in taking these to make sure."

"Fine." I say. I grab them from her hands and hop off the bed. I head to the bathroom and I take the tests. I set them up one by one beside each other perfectly in a straight line, and wait anxiously for the results to appear.

Angie knocks on the door and I open it for her. She looks at the three tests and stands beside me. I nibble on my fingers, anxiously. Angelina opens her mouth to say something and I shush her loudly. She says, "What? Am I gonna scare them by talking?!"

I, once again, shush her loudly. She huffs and folds her arms over her chest. I stare at the tests then at the watch over my wrist, thinking, why the hell is time moving so slow? As the time is about to finish, I start to pace around the room, then shuffle on my feet. Angelina says, "You can hold my hand if you're nervous."

"I'm not nervous!" I shout at her, then after a few second of nibbling at my bottom lip, I grab her hand in mine. I look at the watch, then squeeze Angie's hand, anxiously. In any second, there's either going to be a piece of news that will change not only my life, but my life and Fred's life forever, or I could have spent a lot of unnecessary time worrying.

"I'm sure whatever it is, you'll be fine." Angie says, she already knows that I'm pregnant, she feels it in her gut. I'm too scared to think about it myself because I might get that same feeling in my gut. All the evidence is there, the fatigue, not being able to go through a few classes before heading to the toilets, the nausea. All signs point to yes, but the proof will be in front of us in a few seconds.

My hands start to feel clammy and I need to not be holding anyone's hand right now. I go to sit on the closet toilet seat, and Angie sits on the edge of the tub. She asks, "How are you feeling?"

My throat feels dry, and I rub my hands together before rubbing them on my pants to dry them. I shrug my shoulders, and exhale. I let out a nervous chuckle, then say, "I'm terrified."

"What will everybody think? We've still got a few months left of school." I say, and I start panicking thinking about all the things that can go wrong about getting pregnant. "How can I have my NEWTs while being pregnant?"

I think of the last thing, the thing that's on my mind the most. You don't need to take your NEWTs to have a career anymore, and who cares what people think. My hands start to shake and I cry, "What if Fred leaves me?"

Angelina rushes to my side when she sees me cover my face and start crying. She presses a hand to my back and rubs it soothingly. She says, "Honey, it's going to be fine. I'm sure everything will work out to what's best, really. You can choose not to keep it, or put it up for adoption, maybe. Besides, you'll always have me."

I lift my hands from my palms and see her giving me a nervous smile herself. I smile back at her gratefully, and wrap my arms around her. From behind her back, I notice that one of the tests has changed. I trample her on my way, reaching it. I place my other hand over my mouth as I notice the two stripes.

I look at the others and they all have the same result. The two stripes. All the tests are positive. I gasp, and purse my lips. Angelina doesn't say anything and still rubs my back reassuringly. I put the tests back beside the sink and wash my hands. My heart is beating a hundred miles an hour.

"What are you going to do?" Angelina asks, cautiously. I sit back down on the toilet seat and she crouches in front of me. I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling. I reply, "I have no idea."

"Darling?"

I hear Fred's voice say, and my eyes widen as much as they can. Angelina stands up immediately. I push her near the door, and whisper, "Go tell him I'm sick, or busy, anything like that. I can't talk to him right now, I can't!"

Angelina walks out of the bathroom, and I press my hear against the door, hoping to hear the conversation. Fred says, "Hi, Captain."

"She's busy right now, Weasley. She can't talk." Angelina says, in a steady voice, even though I know she's nervous. I can just picture Fred's face morph into confusion and then he says, "Why?"

"Is she in there?" Fred asks, I hear his footsteps coming towards the door, and I feel my blood run cold. He knocks on the door, and he says, "Darling? Are you in there?"

"Yes."

"What's going on? Is something wrong?" Fred asks, and I feel the urge to say, yes somethings wrong, something is very very wrong. I stutter, "No, everything's fine, Fred."

"You don't sound alright. Can I come in?" Fred asks, and I hear both Angelina and I shout, quickly, "NO!"

I hear Fred chuckle, but not his normal type of chuckle. He leans on the door, I know by the sound of the small thud against the door. Fred says, "What can Angelina see that I can't? I've already seen all of you."

That's the problem. I look down to the door handle and notice that there's no locks. I curse and it makes Fred say, "Love, I really need to see you, you're worrying me like crazy here."

I run to the counter, grab the tests and shove them into the trash bin. I let the toilet paper roll drop down hastily to hide them. I hear the door open, and I turn around to stand to face him. He looks worried, and I press my lips together. I give him an unconvincing smile.

"You look a little pale." Fred notes, he then steps closer to me, and leans closer. He adds, "You're sweating like crazy too."

"It's hot."

"It's November." Fred says, then grabs my hand. He leads me out of the room. I try to stop, but he's walking determined. I ask, "Where are we going?"

"To Madame Pomfrey, she's gonna have a full check up on you." Fred says, and I sit down on the floor to not move. If Madame Pomfrey does a check up, she'll no doubt find out that I'm pregnant. Fred stops too and looks behind him. He bends down and picks me up in his arms bridal style. Fred says, "You're going."

He takes me to the hospital wing with Angelina right behind us. Fred puts me on one of the beds, and then he sits down beside me, holding my hand, tightly. Madame Pomfrey comes to check up on me, she does scans and spells and everything. I wait until my secret is out to Fred. I don't think I can bare losing him.

Madame Pomfrey walks in with a paper, holding the tests' results. She walks over to us and then looks at the paper. Her eyes widen and I look at her desperately, hoping that she would lie for me. She clears her throat, and looks at Fred with a smile. She says, "Your girlfriend is completely fine."

"Just a little exam stress, you should make sure that she relaxes, and eats well." She continues, and I know a part of that advice is pregnancy related. She says, "Off you go then, Miss Johnson, if you could just stay for a second."

~~~

I couldn't tell Fred, and I couldn't look at him without feeling a nasty feeling gnawing at me, so my solution was to not be around Fred. I saw him at meals and during classes, but I never stuck around to see him after. This went on for a month, and I was already two months along. I was glad I wasn't showing.

I had decided to keep the baby, even when I don't know what's going to happen between me and Fred. Angelina has been the greatest help ever since Madame Pomfrey gave her my papers when I left with Fred the day I found out. She's been reading books, and making sure I'm eating right and everything. She supports me, the one thing she doesn't support me in is not telling Fred for this long.

"Is today the day?" She asks as we head down to breakfast. I've grown tired of the question. I shrug my shoulders, and give her the usual reply, "Maybe."

I don't get to go to breakfast because George walks out furiously and towers over me. He doesn't look at Angelina while he says, "If you could excuse us captain, I need to talk to my brother's girlfriend."

Angelina prepares a reply before I lift up a hand and say, "It's alright, Angie."

She hesitates before going into the Great Hall. George talks a few steps till we're out of the entrance of the hall. He glares at me and as soon as I lean against the wall, he starts the ramble, "I know I'm not supposed to interfere because this isn't my relationship, but you've been avoiding Fred for a while now, and he knows. He's been strong, but you're hurting him. He cried yesterday because he doesn't want you to break up with him, so that's where I draw the line-"

"George, I'm pregnant." I shot out, and he stands transfixed with his eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. He doesn't say anything so I grow more nervous. He stutters before spewing, "Is it Fred's?"

"Yes, of course, it's Fred's. What kind of woman do you take me for?!" I shout, furiously. Did he honestly think I would cheat on Fred? We've been dating for a while, If I would've cheated, I would've done it by now. George rubs the back of his head sheepishly, "Sorry, why haven't you told Fred?"

"I'm scared." I say, and look down at the floor. I bite the insides of my cheeks, and George nods his head understandingly. George knows what Fred would do, they're twins and they have this special ability to know what the other will do. George says, "I'm sure Fred will do what's right."

But what would Fred find right, that sort of thing is relative from one person to the other. He could leave, maybe that's what is right for him. I nod my head at George's words even though it doesn't soothe me. George asks, "How long have you known?"

"A month."

"A month!" George repeats, louder. He looks around to make sure no one heard him, even though it would be hard to know what the conversation is about from that word alone. George asks, "How far along are you?"

"Two months."

"Two months!"

"George, we're really getting nowhere like this." I say after rolling my eyes. George stares at the floor deep in shock. He asks, what I hope is the final question, "Are you keeping it?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. That's my niece or nephew in there. Cool." George says, and I smack his arm, even though it relieves me a bit to find out that this is George's reaction, maybe Fred's will be the same. George clears his throat then says, "I really think you should tell him, soon."

I nod my head at his words, and he puts a hand on my shoulder before saying, "Whatever Fred does I want you know that I can help, it'll be awkward if Fred decides to be an idiot, but I'll be there for you, and either George the second, or Georgina."

"Thank you, George. I'm ignoring you naming my kid by the way." I chuckle at the end, and he smiles back at me. George says, "He's in the dorm, if you want to talk to him."

I nod at his words and then he leaves to go to breakfast. I'm going to tell Fred, now. I march over to the common room, and then to his dorm, trying not to overthink it, and trying to get as much out of this new confidence. I open the door to his dorm, and Fred's standing in the middle.

"Hi."

"Hey." Fred says, and I look at him. All the confidence flies out the window in a second. I feel my breath hitch. I stutter out, "There's something I need to tell you."

Fred nods his head, but keeps standing where he is. I sit on his bed that I know so well, and the place where this all happened. I take in a deep breath, in and out, and a couple more times. Fred stays patient I loved that about him, he wouldn't appear to be the kind of person who would be patient, but he always is with me.

He watches me attentively, and I take in the last deep breath. I remind myself that I can do it, and even if Fred doesn't want to stay, I can raise my kid on my own with Angie and George. Here goes nothing. I shot out, "I'm pregnant."

He doesn't say anything for a bit and his facial expressions don't change. I consider repeating it again because he might not have heard me, but then his eyes widen, and his mouth hangs wide. Same reaction as George, just much more dramatic.

I feel my heart racing in anticipation, I pray that the shock subsides and his reaction gives me any input on how he's feeling. He stands up straighter, and fixes his expression to neutral. I straighten my back, ready for an answer. He doesn't give me one, instead his eyes keep flickering from my eyes to my stomach over and over again.

I place a protective hand over my stomach, and I find the wait unbearable. I wait, wishing he would just do something. The more his mouth stays closed, the more hope I lose. I feel my eyes water, and my stomach sink. I let out a bitter chuckle then say, "Could you at least say anything?"

It takes him a second, but he does say something. He says it so low that I barely even hear it. He mutters, "Shit."

He turns around and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as it closes, I start sobbing. I guess George was wrong, Fred didn't end up doing the right thing.

~~~

"I still can't believe that jerk!" Angelina shouts, as she folds her clothes, folding them into her suitcase. I don't bother doing the same with my clothes. I'm staying at Hogwarts for Christmas this year. I sigh, "I really don't want to think about it Angie."

"Sorry." She says, and I find myself staring at the ceiling again. It's been like this for two days. All I've done was sob, this is the first day that I wasn't a mess. George tried to see me, but I couldn't talk to him, not when he looks so much like Fred. It's unfair to him, I know, but I can't bring myself to care.

There's a knock on the door, and I assume it's one of my roommates, coming to get her things. Instead, Fred walks in. I see him before Angelina does, but as soon as she sees him, she starts, "You! Get out!"

She goes to him and starts to push him out the door, but he places his feet firmly on the ground, and holds Angelina off. Fred says, eyes looking straight at me, "Please, I want to talk."

"It's fine, Angie." I sigh, and she looks at me with bewilderment and then glares at Fred. She steps out of the room while Fred steps inside. She closes the door behind her, and Fred looks at me.

Fred looks around the room, and his eyes land at the only, still messy nightstand, mine. He clears his throat, but says nothing. I grow agitated, I sneer, "If you're not going to say anything, just leave."

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I don't know why I left. I'm an idiot. I can't imagine how you must've felt. I am so so sorry." Fred says, rushing over towards me. He sits on the bed beside me, and takes both my hands in his. I feel my eyes water, and I look down. He takes my chin in his hands, and makes me look into his eyes. He continues, "I was so worried. I haven't turned eighteen, and I was so scared that I wouldn't be a good dad. I don't have a job. I want to open a joke shop, who knows how much money that'll make, and I-"

He chokes up, and he wraps his arms around me. I hug him back just as tightly. A few tears slip from my eyes, and I squeeze him harder. I missed him so much. Fred says, "I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I love you so much. I don't want to lose you...either of you."

And just like that I'm sobbing. I blame the hormones a hundred percent. I mumble, "I love you too, Fred."

I'm sure I've ruined his sweater with my tears, but I can't bring myself to move an inch away from him. Fred wraps his arms around my waist and squeezes me, affectionately. He freezes and pushes me away from him by my shoulders. He panics, "Did I just squeeze baby?"

"I'm actually not sure." I reply, and I place a hand on my stomach. I shrug my shoulder and say, "I feel fine, so I guess not?"

"Come with me for Christmas." Fred suggests, and I feel stressed out by the idea. I haven't told anyone besides George and Angelina, so by the time that break is over I'll definitely be showing. Fred adds, "Only if you want to of course, I just don't want to miss you."

"Sure." I say, and Fred beams. He hugs me again, this time less tightly, making sure not to squeeze the baby. He starts tearing up himself, and I find peace in his arms. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life like this, especially with a tiny set of arms joining the hug.

an: I'm thinking of writing like a tiny little one shot on how Fred would be with like Pregnant reader, but I'm not sure

[oneofthetorturedpoets]

keep on pretending pretty girl.

part 2

It's been three months since you and Regina started dating. No one knew about it and Regina made sure of that. Every rumor she shut down and every whisper she shut up. At first you didn't mind, you actually wanted it too, but then there were rumors that Regina was hooking up with Aaron in the third floor janitorial closet and that worried you. You knew that she dumped Aaron that same day she got with you but you also know that she has a history of cheating. She excuses it as her not knowing she was gay yet, but you're not sure if that's entirely true.

When you got the text that Regina was on her way to her college prep class, you waited about 15 minutes before marching your way up the stairs. With each step, your anxiety grew. Would Regina cheat on you? The thought kept circling your mind.

You reach the door, pulling it open to reveal a dark empty closet. You feel relief fall off of your shoulders. She wasn't lying to you.

-

'come over, we need to talk.' You got the message from Regina, right when you were getting ready for bed. You sighed, texting her back that you'll be right there.

In 20 minutes you were knocking on her front door, waiting to be let in. Regina's mom answers the door, not at all shocked to see you with how often you come over. "Hey girl! How are you? I'm so happy you're here, there was-" Regina is already right there, pulling you away from her mom and up the stairs.

Regina practically throws you on her bed. "I heard you were checking the janitor closets to see if I was cheating on you?" Anger laces her tone.

"I was, I'm sorry, I should've trusted you." You say, the words coming out worse than you want.

She scoffs. "Why didn't you? I haven't done anything for you not to trust me!"

You stand back up. "It's not that I don't trust you! It's the fact that we are hiding our relationship for no good reason!"

She shakes her head, walking to the other side of the room. "You know my status, if everyone found out-" It was your turn to be mad.

"They would what? Make fun of you?" You yell back.

"Yes!" The room fell silent. "wait, I didn't mean it like that" You turn around, walking out of her room. "Y/n, wait." You storm down the stairs.

"Maybe we can work this out when you're not embarrassed of me, Regina." You slam her door, walking to your car.

-

The next day was luckily Saturday so you wouldn't have to see Regina. That didn't stop her from blowing up your phone.

That day you just thought back to every time you interacted with her in school. She would look past you every time you saw her in the hallway. She would make sure to pick you up the next block over so no one saw you two together. She refused to sit next to you in class or be partnered up with you. To everyone else, it looked like she hated you. You knew that you were two very different people but for her to be embarrassed to be seen with you?

-

You saw Regina walking in to school that next Monday. You could tell that she wanted to talk to you but she stopped herself. Clearly still embarrassed by you.

-

Around fifth period, Regina pulled you into one of the closets. "Y/n, please-"

you genuinely laugh at her. "You can't even attempt to talk to me in public still... after our huge fight, nothing has changed? God Regina, you're hopeless." you walk out of the room, Regina follows.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I am not embarrassed of loving you, I want everyone to see how much I really do love you." Regina pulls you by your wrist, causing you to turn towards her. She tugs you closer, interlocking your lips. You melt into her, all of your anger and sadness washing off of you. Everyone is taking pictures and recording but you couldn't care less. "Please forgive me, y/n. I didn't mean to make you feel like I was embarrassed by you." You just shake your head, pulling her in to kiss you. Glad you're able to kiss her in public and not feel like you're doing something wrong.

-

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[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 24

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: little bit of trauma talk, but otherwise a light chapter! wc: 2.1k

Chapter Selection

Damian handed me a large manilla envelope as he came through my door. “Father said to give this to you.”

I frowned, opening it. The first page was an employment agreement. For ‘services to the Wayne family' I was being offered a salary of $120,000 a year for the duration of my education, and a signing bonus of an additional $10,000 up front. Under that was a paper with the name and number of a friend of Bruce's on the board at Gotham University's medical program, and a scribbled note that he was expecting my call. And under that was a pile of pamphlets and booklets on the medical program at GU, with specific details and classes highlighted.

“... Well, he's nothing if not thorough.” I shrugged, setting everything aside and pulling out the ingredients to start on dinner.

“What is all that?” Damian grabbed a snack from the fridge. 

“Just some paperwork; I’m thinking about going back to school.”

He nodded, getting set up at the table to work on his homework. “... Father also mentioned you're going to be the primary contact at my school?”

I nodded; “is that ok with you?”

Damian looked over at me. “... Yes, that’s fine. … Do I bring you the papers they send home then?”

“Yeah, I can take anything they send home.”

He nodded, pulled out a flier for spring semester PTA sign-ups. I took it, reading it over. “Looks like PTA meets on the first Monday of every month during last period. Maybe we can make a day of it!”

“... Do what?” He frowned.

“I'll come for the PTA meeting, and then Jason could pick the both of us up, and we'll get dinner before we take you home.”

“... You're joining the PTA?”

“Yes, I am.” I smiled brightly.

Damian frowned, eying me suspiciously. “... Why?”

I shrugged. “Why not?”

He watched me for a minute; “... You just … want to spend an hour a month with the parents and teachers at my school?”

“Let’s just say I’ve learned not to trust those people to treat their students right. I want to make sure they remember who they’re dealing with.”

“... Alright.” He nodded once, going back to his work.

I prepared dinner, humming softly to myself. Eventually, Jason knocked on the door, and I went to let him in. He smiled softly, kissing my forehead, and took a seat at the table. “... Babe, what's this?”

I looked over, he was looking through the paperwork Damian had brought. “Ah, I was gonna talk to you about that tonight. … I'm thinking about going back to school.”

“... Medical school? … And what's this about ‘services rendered to the Wayne family'? What services?” He frowned, looking up at me. I popped dinner in the oven and went to the table.

“... Should we go into my room to talk?” I looked over at Damian, who was staring at us.

“... Ok?...” He frowned a bit and I offered Jason my hand. He took it, following me to my room.

We sat on my bed, Jason still holding the paperwork. He looked through them, a confused frown on his face; “... What's going on?”

“... You said you were more comfortable than usual when I took the blood sample. Right?” He nodded slowly; “well, that night I was thinking about it … about your scars. … Bruce said you don't let anyone treat you unless you’re brought in unconscious?”

Jason nodded again, frowning deeply. “... I … I have a hard time trusting strangers with medical equipment … and I don’t like going to the Batcave for treatment either … they’re … they know what they’re doing, but … I don’t like the look on their faces when they have to treat me … makes me feel … ill.”

I nodded. “Well, I know some of your scars bother you, … and they wouldn't be so prominent if you were able to get proper treatment when you get wounded. So, I was thinking I could get the training to be able to do that for you, if you think you’d be comfortable enough for that?”

He blinked a bit, frowning. “... You … you want to get trained to- … why?”

I gently squeezed his hand, stroking his knuckles with my thumb. “Because you need someone you feel safe getting medical treatment from. You deserve to feel safe. And if I can help you with that, I will. … I don’t want you bleeding out in an alley somewhere, or trying to dig a bullet out of your own shoulder, or who knows what else, you know? … I love you, Jason, I want to help you.”

He frowned, squeezing my hand tightly. “... I … I don't know what to say…”

“You don't have to say anything right now. We don't have to decide this today, it's just something to think about.”

“... What about the ‘services rendered' part?”

“Well, if I get this training, I'll be able to act as an emergency clinic for the others too.”

“Oh. So, Bruce is going to pay you to be our medic?”

“Basically. That way I'll never be at the diner when you guys need care. I'm also joining the family's Thursday afternoon training sessions.”

Jason nodded slowly, pulling me into a tight hug. He sniffled softly, mumbling; “... I … I didn't want to pull you into this world…”

“If you’re in this world, I’m in this world.” I cupped his cheek gently, kissing his forehead. “I want to be able to protect myself, and I want to be able to help you, and Damian, and the others. I will not be dead weight, and I will not watch you suffer needlessly.”

“You wouldn't need to be able to defend yourself if it weren't for me…”

“It's Gotham, my love. Self-defense classes are probably the most popular type of extra-curricular activity in the entire city for every age group.” I stroked his hair, holding him close.

“... I guess … but I hate that you're in extra danger because of me…”

“I think it balances out; I'm also extra secure because of you. Who'd be stupid enough to knowingly fuck with Red Hood's girl?” I smirked a bit, running my hands through his hair.

He frowned, holding me closer. “... Only the worst of them.”

“And they'd fuck with anyone for any reason anyway. So it doesn't matter.” I cupped his cheek, rubbing the tips of our noses together. “I'm happiest and safest with you, and we'll deal with the consequences together.”

“... I wish things were different. … I wish loving me didn't come with consequences…” 

I sighed softly; “well, we could always leave Gotham. Start over somewhere else…”

“... Can't do that…”

“I know you can't. So, we'll just have to play the cards we've been dealt, right?”

He sighed softly and nodded, kissing my shoulder. “... Not gonna let anyone hurt you, baby. Promise.”

“I know you won't.” I hugged him tightly. “I know you wanna take care of me. And I wanna take care of you too.”

He nodded slowly, wrapping his arms tighter around my waist. “... Ok. … Th- thank you, baby… thank you…” I nodded, hugging him tightly. He sighed softly, kissing my jaw softly. “... Wait a minute, how much is Bruce offering you? …”

He picked up the paperwork, frowning deeply. “Oh hell no. Don't sign anything yet, I’m gonna renegotiate this for you.”

I giggled, kissing his neck. “It’s more than I make now.”

“It’s insulting. $120,000 for an on-call doctor? Is he trying to piss me off? No, if he’s gonna pay for this, he’s gonna  pay you a fair fucking wage!”

“Well, I’m probably not going to get a full doctorate; I only need to know enough to take care of your day-to-day medical care. More like … a field medic. He's also funding my education, is going to pay for any supplies I need, and has the connections to get me into the medical program with no questions asked. I think it's fair.”

Jason groaned, pulling me closer. “... I get to renegotiate after you're done with school.”

“Deal.”

Mrs. Webster frowned deeply as I took a seat in the auditorium at Damian's school. She slowly approached, holding a clipboard. “... What are you doing here?”

I smiled brightly; “this is where PTA sign ups are happening, isn't it?”

“You're not a parent.”

“Ah, no. But I am one of Damian's adults, and Bruce has made me the primary contact for school related concerns, so I thought I might as well get involved. I'm very … passionate about Damian's education, after all. As I'm sure you remember.” I smirked, watching her nose wrinkle. Eventually, she thrust the clipboard into my hands, and I signed up, providing an email address and phone number.

“... You won't be able to bully the PTA into doing things your way. I hope you know that.” She frowned.

“Fortunately I have no intentions to bully anyone. I do have a habit of calling out any bigotry I run across, but that shouldn't be a problem anymore. Right, Mrs. Webster?”

She very nearly growled as she stormed away. A few of the moms that were mulling around stared at me, but that quickly stopped when I waved to them. I thought I’d be left to my own devices, but soon enough, an older couple made their way over, sitting near me.

They introduced themselves, shaking my hand; “Which one is yours, dear?”

“Damian Wayne.” I smiled softly.

The woman blinked a bit. “You're Damian Wayne's mother? … Oh, forgive me, but I thought …”

“No, no! I'm a big sister.” I chuckled softly. “I don't even know who or where his mother is, I'm kind of a new addition to the family.”

“I see. Well, it will be nice for him to have someone getting involved. Our Sarah is in many of the same art classes as Damian, and it's always so sad to see him on his own at the after school events.”

I nodded. “That's exactly why I'm here. He was so pleased when I offered to come to the art show last semester, I want to see him happy like that more often.”

“Oh, that was quite the event! Did you hear? We didn't see it, but apparently someone threatened Mrs. Webster!” The woman cackled softly. “Such an unpleasant woman…”

“I wouldn't say I threatened her, just made her aware of certain facts. Including the fact that I am one of Damian's adults now, and she isn't going to get away with spewing passive aggressive microaggressions towards him while I'm around.”

The man chuckled; “that was you? She's been in a tizzy ever since!”

I smirked a bit; “What kind of tizzy?”

“Just insufferable. Our Sarah says she's been more harsh than ever in class.”

“I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to make things worse for anyone…” I frowned deeply.

“Oh, you aren't responsible for her behavior, dearie. She's always been a rude one…” the woman gently patted my hand.

“Sarah has her troubles. You know, mental health stuff. All the kids seem to nowadays…”

“And Mrs. Webster, well … she doesn't ‘abide by that nonsense’.” She scoffed.

“And of course there was the instance with the lesbians.” Her husband frowned slightly.

“The lesbians?” I frowned deeply.

“This sweet little girl with lesbian parents last year. Mrs. Webster met her mothers at a parent-teacher conference and apparently started treating the girl … well, different. … They moved over the summer, I do hope they're doing better now…”

I frowned deeply, watching Mrs. Webster on the other side of the room. “Hm… so she's not just racist, she's ableist and homophobic too. Gross….”

“She's never said anything overt about anything, nothing worth bringing up with the administration. But she's a … vexing woman.” the woman sighed.

“Well, … maybe individually they're not big things worth mentioning, but together they make up a big pile of nasty. … Do you know anyone else who has ‘small’ problems with Mrs. Webster?”

“Oh, maybe a few people… it's really not worth bringing up though.” She waved her hand dismissively.

“Yes, it is. We should bring the numerous ‘little things' to the administration. Establishing the pattern of behavior will be important to getting justice if they know about anything bigger. And no matter what comes of it, it's important that the kids see that their adults will stand up for them.” I frowned.

“Well … I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to talk to the other parents at least …” The husband frowned, looking to his wife. She nodded slowly.

“We’ll talk to the other parents.”

I nodded; “here, let me give you my phone number. Feel free to share that with any parents who have a problem with Mrs. Webster; I have no problem being the squeaky wheel with the admin.”

They nodded, putting my number in their phones. Mrs. Webster and a few other teachers started the meeting a few minutes later, and I sat back to observe.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

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[kissitbttr]

omg imagine frat!miguel and reader have a pregnancy scare, but lowkey Miguel wanted it to happen, and he gets all pouty

“You’re pregnant?!”

It’s around 9 o’clock in the morning and you had voiced your concerns about your period coming in late and told Miguel about it. The whole thing is freaking you out

“I’m going to be a dad?!” And his tone is far too cheerful for your liking, quickly catching it on and it makes you throw a look at his way,

Which then he notices and clears his throat. “Wait, i mean uhm… Fuck… What do you mean that you’re pregnant?! You’re telling me i’m going to be a dad?!” His voice changes into something more serious. Or at least he tries to be

“I haven’t gotten a test pack yet, but my period is like.. a week late now” You respond to him

“Oh well” his shoulders slump. “Could it actually be that you’re really pregnant? Am i going to be a dad and you’re like…the mom?!”

You eye him suspiciously, searching for any hint of fear or anxiety over his face but you find none. Instead, you watch how he becomes… hopeful?

This, motherfucker.

“Christ” you cross my arms, brows knitted. “You actually wanted me to be pregnant, do you?”

He wide eyed, shaking his head. “Of course not! A baby? Whaaat, Pfft! As if, muñeca. That’s so ridiculous” He laughs a little bit unusual and that only raises your suspicions more,

The look on your face fails him to be a little discreet about it and that’s where he confesses. “Okay, okay, fine! I kind of do!”

A gasp escapes your lip, “you little—“

“But i promise you i didn’t do it on purpose to freak you out, okay!” He changes the subject. In hopes that him wanting a baby could be erased from your mind. “I’m always careful you know that!”

“Back to the point!” You shake your head. “Oh my god… You want me to get pregnant?” The question you find yourself repeating. “You crazy ass fucker! We cannot afford that!”

“I knooow, but a boy could only dream, muneca!” He argues, pouting at you as he imagines how it looks like if you could actually be pregnant. “I just— I don’t know—I just think that it would be nice.. Wouldn’t you like that? A little me or you running around?”

You feel your heartbeat going faster now, eyes looking at how your boyfriend shyly admits one of his dreams that he would like to fulfill with you,

To be honest, you haven’t really thought about it. You and him are still in college, still messing around here and there. A baby is the last thing on your mind. Hell, that never even made it to your list,

But still, it’s really sweet how he lets you know what he wanted.

“Well i… Never thought of it” You step closer to him, his face looking defeated. You reach out to grab his hands. “But.. Maybe when we’re actually settled, financially stable and out of this shithole… I would love to, Miggy”

His eyes light up in seconds after that. “Really?!”

“Yes. Really” you nod with a smile. “That is if you still wanted to be with me”

“The fuck you talking about of course i do” He feels offended that you would even say that. “I’ll get you a ring right now to prove it to you”

“Ring pop?” You ask with a raised eyebrow,

“Yup” He smiles, wrapping his hands around your waist. “Guess which flavor i’m getting you”

“Green apple” you respond right away. “And no to the purple. Fuck that catfishing grape flavored candy”

“I knew i picked the right girl”

[accio-victuuri]

xiao zhan elle september issue cover story Q&A

ELLE: During this rest period, do you think about things that happened on the set?

Xiao Zhan: Of course, I remember a few days after the filming was finished, I had a dream that we were still filming, and the director and I were still discussing how to say that word? How to handle that scene?

ELLE: Do you actually miss the atmosphere on the set?

Xiao Zhan: I like it very much, because I like the feeling of everyone creating together and working together to get something done.

ELLE: When you first entered the entertainment industry and your popularity grew rapidly, you said that it felt a bit unreal and magical, but now you seem to be quite relaxed. How did this change happen?

Xiao Zhan: Rather than saying it’s unreal or magical, after so many years I feel that I haven’t had time to adapt to the fast pace at that time, so when I wake up from sleep, where am I today? What am I doing? I think it’s a process, just like when you first enter the workplace, everyone is very excited, "I’m here to work, please take good care of me", "I’m here, everyone get out of the way", "I can do it, I can do it". (Laughs) But after experiencing a lot of things, I feel that everything needs to be planned for the long term.

ELLE: In several interviews you mentioned that you like to play roles that "can convey energy". Why do you have such a preference?

Xiao Zhan: Because I think it is the life of the character. The kind of energy I am talking about is not just a single positive energy in the general sense. I mean the nutrition that can be subtle and silent. I believe that every character has a complete story line in his heart. This is what I like very much. As long as you dig deep, you can move people. I don’t like to call the villain a "villain", as if it is defined as a bad character from the beginning, but it is not. He may have his own difficulties.

ELLE: It sounds like “transmitting energy” is just a general term. Is it actually about understanding different people through performance?

Xiao Zhan: Yes, if we break it down to each character, they all convey different things. But if we say they are “good guys” or “bad guys”, I think that’s meaningless.

ELLE: So do you think acting is a form of communication?

Xiao Zhan: Yes, you can say that. I think it’s great to say that (acting) is a bridge to communicate with the audience. Just like when a play is broadcast, I will read some of the audience’s comments and impressions, and feel that they have a rich feeling about the work. When I see some comments that are exactly the same as my thoughts when filming, I feel very magical, as if this bridge is really connected. We don’t know each other in life, and we haven’t communicated, but he suddenly got my thoughts at the time, and I felt that, oh, acting is a very beautiful and magical thing.

ELLE: Do you watch some science fiction movies, TV shows, and literary works?

Xiao Zhan: Yes, I used to like watching "The Three-Body Problem". I have watched some science fiction movies recently, the American TV series "The Stars", and recently I am watching "The Replica". They are all about infinite flow and parallel time and space. Because I think there may really be parallel time and space. Every choice you make will split into a different parallel time and space.

ELLE: Do you imagine Xiao Zhan in a parallel universe?

Xiao Zhan: I really wonder, for example, is he still an actor? Maybe, is he still filming now? Is he still singing now? Or is he still a designer? Is he working for others or is he his own boss? (Laughs) Really, I really wonder.

ELLE: What do you think the future will be like?

Xiao Zhan: Wow, I think the world might return to its original state at that time, and the world might become a better place, and people would return to the most basic communication with each other.

ELLE: This is very interesting. Why do you think so?

Xiao Zhan: Anyway, at least now I am a little disgusted with the ubiquitous Internet. When we were young, when there were no mobile phones, we would chat while eating, and we would call our friends downstairs to play hide-and-seek and various games. I think that time was very precious.

ELLE: Will the profession of actor still exist by then?

Xiao Zhan: I think there will be. I believe that as long as life goes on, drama will continue. Because everyone needs an output, needs emotional resonance and sustenance, whether it is images or sounds. So I think that even if the world is destroyed, as long as there are still people, drama will definitely exist.

-END.

source

[beauty-and-passion]

TBOB PART 3: OF BILL’S SOLITUDE AND BILLFORD (2/3)

Welcome, everyone, to the umpteenth analysis post regarding TBOB.

This time, time to talk about Billford because

it’s always the right time to talk about Billford

TBOB doesn’t just hint that there was something going on: it basically confirms it. And as someone who shipped them for years yes, it feels amazing to see the ship being canonized. Not that it wasn’t already canon before, but you got it.

For all disclaimers and premises, please check the previous posts and the main masterlist.

<- Previous post - Masterlist

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Kindred souls

Let’s recap: we have Bill, a being with a huge void inside him, a hole of solitude he isn’t able to fill - because how can you fill the deep desperation of being alone, because you lost everything and it’s your own fault?

He tries with love and friends, but his relationships don’t work, his friendships don’t work.

And then, Sixer comes.

*

Gifted like me

On TBOB, Bill says Ford’s IQ “was off the charts” and he was “wasting his gifts”.

In THE EARLY YEARS section, Bill says he wasn’t just “smarter than all the dull trapezoids and rhombuses”, but he also had “a gift, a rare mutation”.

In Journal 3, Ford says: “I am strange. I was born strange, I am attracted to the strange and the strange has always been attracted to me.”. Also: “my grades were too high and my social skills were too low”.

On thisisnotawebsitedotcom under the code EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES, Bill says Ford “was half a genius. The other half seemed to be frozen at the age of 18, still a child, totally dependent on outside praise, terrible at understanding and relating to others.”

They both have a birth defect that makes them special, they are both more clever than the others, they are both strange, they both have terrible social skills.

Add that they’re both alone, rejected, outcasts, searching for a purpose.

Is it so weird Bill was immediately drawn to Ford and immediately considered him a perfect partner? And fine, maybe it wasn’t romantic - at first, at least. But the possible attraction is now A LOT more plausible.

*

(Potentially) bad like me

In TBOB, Bill says he looked at Ford’s possible futures and “giggled with delight”, because he was “destined for so much more”.

What kind of possible, immensely fucked-up futures Bill could’ve seen, to “giggle with delight”? Well, consider this: Ford isn’t a 100% good person. (Just like every human being and that makes him an even more compelling character, imho.) He has - always had - the potential to become a villain.

Starting from the series: in The Last Mabelcorn, as soon as Dipper (and we) find out he was Bill’s friend in the past, for a second we all got the impression that this guy was evil. Journal 3 confirmed that Ford has such a massive ego, to think that “Icarus didn’t flap hard enough” and that he’s so much better than everyone else. In TBOB, in the missing Journal 3 pages, he says Rudolph the Reindeer should’ve burned his oppressor’s workshop to teach them a lesson. In other words, Ford is not exactly the nicest, most caring guy on the block.

So yes, it’s very possible that Bill peeked into futures in which Ford turned completely evil and joined Bill. The possibility has always been present.

As someone cleverly pointed out here on Tumblr (forgot your name & post, sorry!), probably the only thing that saved Ford was that Bill wasn’t always present. From what we learned, Bill left Ford alone for long periods (maybe because he had to deal with other shit?), to the point Ford grew jealous his Muse was with someone else. Maybe, if Bill stuck closer… who knows? Maybe it would’ve been easier to convince Ford to keep going with the portal. Maybe Bill would’ve convinced him that opening it was a great idea. Maybe he would’ve convinced him that destroying his world (and, consequently, his oppressors) was a good idea too. “A lesson to all!”, as Ford wrote.

*

Same fascination for the stars

In TBOB we learn that Bill’s mutation allowed him to see the stars. He looked at them and “was ready to be one”.

Ford has always been fascinated by stars. His signature is “per aspera ad astra”, which can be translated as “through hardship, to the stars”.

They are both fascinated by the universe in the same way. They both aim at the stars to reach their dreams.

And that’s even more interesting, if we consider that Bill’s friends have totally different dreams that do not involve the stars in any way:

Pyronica: burn the entire universe

8-Ball: host a podcast

Keyhole: restart his high school band

Teeth is basically a pet so… uh… treats, I suppose?

And we know nothing of Bill’s exes, but I doubt they shared the same fascination, all while being so similar to him like Ford is.

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The endless flirting

In the missing pages of Journal 3 there is no homoerotic subtext: the homoeroticism is just laid here, in plain sight, with a flashing light pointing at it, in case you’re too blind to notice it.

Here are just a couple of examples:

A) “I think I’m starting to like you, Sixer!” / “I think I’m starting to like you, Bill.”: I’ve seen love stories starting with much less than this.

B) “Get out of my head” / “You first”: I can see them giggle with delight while saying this to each other. No way they said it in a less-than-flirtatious tone.

C) Ford says he has been contacted by “an interdimensional deity of knowledge… in a top hat”. He immediately noticed the top hat. In light of Bill’s love advice, now I firmly believe this is how Bill seduces people first. Well, congrats, Bill: the top hat worked.

 D) Ford comes back to his roots, by showering his Muse with compliments about how he “enriched my life and all he asks is just a partner and company”. You know, typical behavior of someone who isn’t infatuated at all.

E) The “IF LOST RETURN TO BILL” tattoo. And later on, Bill calls Ford “his property”. The toxic old men yaoi has never been more toxic, more old men and more yaoi.

F) On Ford’s birthday, Bill followed his own love advice and gave Ford rats as a gift.

G) Karaoke night. Just… karaoke night.

No, okay, more on karaoke night because that part is insane: first the “one thing led to another” which if it doesn’t mean “we fucked” it means “we made out like there’s no tomorrow” at least. Then the “I’m gonna, we’re gonna”... what, Ford? You’re gonna WHAT? Marry the triangle? Fuck him? Are we talking about kisses or should I pick up the BDSM scene in the Penthouse Suite- oh sorry, I meant THE LOVE CAGE?

I mean… I don’t even have to imagine something to make this couple work. It’s all written here. And if this wasn’t enough, then why not throw in some Fiddauthor too, in which Fiddleford is so busy making TWO gifts for Ford, to forget to get something for his own family. And he comes back to Ford, instead of at least trying to make up with the woman he married.

And since this STILL WASN’T ENOUGH, why not make a full “Love Triangle With The Triangle ™”, starring Ford jealous that his Muse was “off inspiring some other scientist” or “posing for some tapestry” (what, Ford? Are you afraid someone is drawing him like one his their French girls?), while Bill is jealous that Ford spends his time with “a third-wheel hillbilly”.

I mean… I always felt it was canon. I just didn’t expect canon to be an avalanche running over me.

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Honest like never before

If there is something more insane in these pages besides karaoke night, then it’s the “monster conversation”.

First Bill basically hints that he tried to undo the past and get his dimension back (for more details, check THIS post).

Ford replies, “I guess you can never really go home again, can you?”. And considering the use of the impersonal “you” and the construct “going home again”, they both seem to confirm my train of thought - i.e. that Bill tried to get his home back and that “home” isn’t just a physical place, but his parents and, most importantly, the love and affection he lost when he destroyed everything and experienced, for the first time in his life, loneliness.

I don’t know you, but I doubt Bill shows the last speck of his home dimension to everyone. He may talk about Euclydia as an oppressive place, but actually showing what’s left of it? I don’t know, I think it’s a bit too… personal, you know? I mean, how would you feel, looking at something that reminds you of all the people you killed for a mistake?

This alone should be enough to prove how much Bill is trusting Ford here. He’s not just talking about his place like he did with his Henchmaniacs, he’s showing it too. He’s showing what’s left.

Remember: to his other Henchmaniacs, Bill said he liberated his home dimension. In the Love Cage, he will repeat the same excuse - while showing Ford that the actual “liberation” means destroying everything.

This alone proves Ford is more than another Henchmaniac, a tool, or whatever other excuse Bill pulls up while talking about him. He told him, for probably the first time in his life, the truth: that his home dimension was destroyed. Not saved, not liberated. Destroyed.

And he could’ve still saved face. Ford thought Rudolph should’ve burned his oppressor’s place, so he could’ve accepted some excuse like “my place was absolute, total, utter shit, so I burned it to give a lesson to all people opposing me”. Bill could’ve taken the merit of ending it.

Instead, Bill said it was a monster. For the first time, we see Bill talking about himself not in positive, grandiose terms, but in a negative term. He sees himself as a monster.

And no, we can be sure he wasn't lying, because that's not the first time Bill "looked more distant than I'd ever seen him":

And guess what, that distant expression appeared when he talked about his home dimension, how flat it was and how he "liberated" it.

But that’s not all:

So, not only Bill sees himself as a monster, describes himself to Ford as a monster, but gives him an indirect warning too, by saying that the monster “would eat you alive”.

Hirsch truly wanted us to tear ourselves apart in angst and I respect him for that.

_______________________________

And with that, let’s close this post too. The last one will come soon and it will be about the post-betrayal and how well Bill handled it.

Spoiler: not so well.

-> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

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