#finally got around to getting this sorted

[ranthaven]

I’m with Governor Pritzker.

I used to live in Pulaski, TN in the mid 90s for five years. If you don’t know anything about that town, it’s a small town in a rural county an hour south of Nashville and the county borders on Alabama. Somewhat more noteworthy, Pulaski is the town where the KKK was created after the Civil War. The building where they held the first meeting still stands today with a very small plaque so that people never forget. Some people say Nathan Bedford Forrest was involved, but I am not aware of any evidence of that.

Living in Pulaski was a choice of necessity as the only employer who would hire me to be a librarian was there. It was a small, private college that today is a branch of the state university system. We were in a recession that greatly affected public institutions like state and local governments, schools and colleges, and so on. I took what I could get and learned a lot there.

Back to the Klan theme. Every January for some years before and after we were there, a white supremacist who lived in Arkansas would organize a weekend of public obnoxiousness with other white power, Nazi, and such groups. December 25th was the date the original KKK meeting had taken place, but nobody would allow a rally of any sort over the holiday. So, they would come to town on a Friday night in January and try to stir up trouble everywhere. On Saturday, they would take over the town square around the county courthouse and have speeches and “music” (really terrible bands) and chants. Once they finally got cold and tired, any of them who remained would go out to a farm a little northwest of town where the farmer would let them have a cross burning and bonfire in his field. On Sunday, they would all be gone, the local churches not taking any of them in for services.

No one ever tried to stop them. All the businesses on the square would be closed, and many in the surrounding blocks, as well. A lot of the town would turn out to hold an antiracism parade that would have two to three times more people and nearly fill the streets. This was almost entirely locals both black and white, with some coming from neighboring towns and counties. The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation (TBI) and state police would join the local cops to keep watch on rally and help the opposing parade remain orderly and peaceful.

It was obvious that the right thing to do was either join the parade. When in the parade we’d keep company with anyone we knew in the black community. A lot of them took courses at the college in our evening program, so I got to know them as we had little connectivity to the internet of the time (AOL numbers were all long distance) and we did our best to be a good academic library.

So, Governor Pritzker is right on point. If we don’t stand up now, we may not get the chance later on. Don’t wait.

There are people – some in my own Party – who think that if you just give Donald Trump everything he wants, he’ll make an exception and spare you some of the harm. I’ll ignore the moral abdication of that position for just a second to say — almost none of those people have the experience with this President that I do. I once swallowed my pride to offer him what he values most — public praise on the Sunday news shows — in return for ventilators and N95 masks during the worst of the pandemic. We made a deal. And it turns out his promises were as broken as the BIPAP machines he sent us instead of ventilators. Going along to get along does not work – just ask the Trump-fearing red state Governors who are dealing with the same cuts that we are. I won’t be fooled twice.

I’ve been reflecting, these past four weeks, on two important parts of my life: my work helping to build the Illinois Holocaust Museum and the two times I’ve had the privilege of reciting the oath of office for Illinois Governor.

As some of you know, Skokie, Illinois once had one of the largest populations of Holocaust survivors anywhere in the world. In 1978, Nazis decided they wanted to march there.

The leaders of that march knew that the images of Swastika clad young men goose stepping down a peaceful suburban street would terrorize the local Jewish population – so many of whom had never recovered from their time in German concentration camps.

The prospect of that march sparked a legal fight that went all the way to the Supreme Court. It was a Jewish lawyer from the ACLU who argued the case for the Nazis – contending that even the most hateful of speech was protected under the first amendment.

As an American and a Jew, I find it difficult to resolve my feelings around that Supreme Court case – but I am grateful that the prospect of Nazis marching in their streets spurred the survivors and other Skokie residents to act. They joined together to form the Holocaust Memorial Foundation and built the first Illinois Holocaust Museum in a storefront in 1981 – a small but important forerunner to the one I helped build thirty years later.

I do not invoke the specter of Nazis lightly. But I know the history intimately — and have spent more time than probably anyone in this room with people who survived the Holocaust. Here’s what I’ve learned – the root that tears apart your house’s foundation begins as a seed – a seed of distrust and hate and blame.

The seed that grew into a dictatorship in Europe a lifetime ago didn’t arrive overnight. It started with everyday Germans mad about inflation and looking for someone to blame.

I’m watching with a foreboding dread what is happening in our country right now. A president who watches a plane go down in the Potomac – and suggests — without facts or findings — that a diversity hire is responsible for the crash. Or the Missouri Attorney General who just sued Starbucks – arguing that consumers pay higher prices for their coffee because the baristas are too “female” and “nonwhite.” The authoritarian playbook is laid bare here: They point to a group of people who don’t look like you and tell you to blame them for your problems.

I just have one question: What comes next? After we’ve discriminated against, deported or disparaged all the immigrants and the gay and lesbian and transgender people, the developmentally disabled, the women and the minorities – once we’ve ostracized our neighbors and betrayed our friends – After that, when the problems we started with are still there staring us in the face – what comes next.

All the atrocities of human history lurk in the answer to that question. And if we don’t want to repeat history – then for God’s sake in this moment we better be strong enough to learn from it.

I swore the following oath on Abraham Lincoln’s Bible: “I do solemnly swear that I will support the constitution of the United States, and the constitution of the state of Illinois, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office of Governor .... according to the best of my ability.

My oath is to the Constitution of our state and of our country. We don’t have kings in America – and I don’t intend to bend the knee to one. I am not speaking up in service to my ambitions — but in deference to my obligations.

If you think I’m overreacting and sounding the alarm too soon, consider this:

It took the Nazis one month, three weeks, two days, eight hours and 40 minutes to dismantle a constitutional republic. All I’m saying is when the five-alarm fire starts to burn, every good person better be ready to man a post with a bucket of water if you want to stop it from raging out of control.

Those Illinois Nazis did end up holding their march in 1978 – just not in Skokie. After all the blowback from the case, they decided to march in Chicago instead. Only twenty of them showed up. But 2000 people came to counter protest. The Chicago Tribune reported that day that the “rally sputtered to an unspectacular end after ten minutes.” It was Illinoisans who smothered those embers before they could burn into a flame.

Tyranny requires your fear and your silence and your compliance. Democracy requires your courage. So gather your justice and humanity, Illinois, and do not let the “tragic spirit of despair” overcome us when our country needs us the most.

Sources:

• NBC Chicago & J.B. Pritzker, Democratic governor of Illinois, State of the State address 2025: Watch speech here | Full text

• Betches News on Instagram (screencaps)

[makaylaloves-words]

Jason Todd thought his need for touch had died with him.

Part two!!

here’s part one

Pairing: Jason Todd x afab reader

TW: Loss of virginity (male), nsfw, pinv, religious imagery, body issues mentioned.

1.7k words

The sun comes dreadfully early. Bright butter yellow beams forcing Jason away from the oasis that is your embrace. You kiss his forehead then head to get ready for work. You start your usual routine, unaware of his recurring thoughts. Usually, he will wake up a little slower then go to make breakfast while you get ready. Today he lingers like the last bits of snow as winter fades into spring.

He watches you come out of the bathroom after your shower, music still playing from your phone. Music he will never admit to liking but listens to when he misses you. Your perfect skin slightly damp as you put on that lotion that makes him want to take a bite out of you.

Clad in only your underwear and bra, hair up in a towel, you pick your outfit for work and start on your makeup. Humming and dancing to your music. He stands.

He’s silent as he approaches, a huge sleepy figure looming behind you.

“Hi” you chirp, rubbing lotion into your skin.

“I want to have sex with you.”

You slowly turn, eyes wide. “Well good morning to you, too.” he swallows but doesn’t back down.

“I kinda have work” you blink.

“I- I didn’t mean right now. Just soon.” he says and your heart picks up. “Okay, honey, soon.”

You step closer and lift on your toes to peck his cheek. You let your hand linger on his bare chest, his hips against you in a way you can feel as hard he is. It gets you drunk on power to know how little it takes for you to do that to him.

Four nights later, it’s the usual routine but something’s off. He goes out on patrol for a few hours and you get finish up some work and make dinner. You eat together then he showers while you wind down. You’ve been dating over a year so naturally you’ve seen eachother naked but he’s always been a little secretive about his body. That’s why you’re very surprised when he walks into your bedroom in just his towel around his waist. Raven hair still damp and water droplets clinging to the scared tissue of his muscled chest. As anyone would eyes would, you give him a good stare down. He looks.. nervous.

“Something wrong?” you finally say.

“Now.” he says

“Now.. what?” your head tilts

He looks away, swallowing in embarrassment.

“I want to have sex.”

Oh.

Oh.

“I- uh right now?” you nearly laugh. You have been on a dry spell ever since you started dating Jason so honestly just him shirtless has got you hot and bothered but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’ve made you wait this long” he nods and steps towards the bed. you stand, arms looping around his neck like a perfect ribbon. “You’ll help me know what to do?” he whispers and you smile “of course.”

Turns out you really have to tell him what to do. You don’t know if you pity the guy or are proud because he’s clearly never watched porn or anything of the sort.

“Just kiss me firs-” you instruct and before you can finish the words his lips are on yours. He’s grown a lot in his kissing ability. From small pecks on your forehead to now as he tangles his tongue with yours. Jason hooks his arms under your thighs and lifts you with practiced ease. Your legs wrap around his hips and his hands hesitantly inch towards the back of your thighs. You nod against as your mouth works on his and his hands slide to grip your ass, holding you to him. He groans.

The towel is slipping off his hips and you can feel an anticipation that you haven’t felt in so long coursing through you, straight to your gut.

“Are you sure about this? You can change your mind.” you say, pulling back. your chest is heaving and you know his answer as he licks a stripe up your neck.

He slowly steps forward, setting you on the bed and looking at you like you’re a goddess who just offered him immortality. “Do i sit down or-“ he bites his lip and you giggle. “We can just do missionary.” he blinks in confusion. “i’ll lay down” you add, stripping your shorts and scooting back on the bed.

You strip your shirt and look up. He’s staring at you in a way you’ve seen very few times. He’s flushed, pupils dilated and hands gripping the towel on his hips so hard his knuckles are white. “Um you come over here now” you swallow as he drops the towel and crawl towards you.

For a long time, Jason thought he was disgusting. A foul ugly creature who rose from the dead and doesn’t deserve a single thing he has. You, however, have never understood this. He is beautiful. Greek god level. You can feel the arousal on your thighs as you bite your lip.

He leans down and kisses you again, hard length pressed against your bare stomach as you start taking off the rest of your clothes.

It’s a charming process in the way that it’s kinda clumsy. You haven’t done this in a while and well Jason’s literally a virgin so it takes you a couple tries to get your bra and underwear off.

He breaks the kiss to look down at you. Eyes trialing over your breast as he rests his hands on your ribcage. “You are beautiful” he whispers and you smile shyly. “You too” he blushes.

Both naked as the day you were born, he gulps “So do i just-“

“pretty much”

He gives himself a few strokes, dark lashes fluttering before he leans to you and presses against you. An inch in and he bites his lips. “God” he whines and you smile. he’s larger than most and you revel in the stretch as he pushes more.

“Oh i understand now” he mutters, hands fisting the sheets by your head.

“Understand what?” you say with a small whimper.

“Why people enjoy this so much” he cuts his words off with a moan as he pushes in a bit more.

With a final gasp from him, he’s all the way in and he swears he’s in heaven. He’s never been a very religious person but if there is a god then it is you and this fucking pussy. He groans, hands gripping the sheets beside your head as your hands delicately grasp his wrists.

“You can move” you say quietly, eyes loving as you look up at him.

“I-“ he should move. he knows he should but he is already close to coming and he doesn’t wanna come that fast. You’re just so warm and wet and tight and- oh no.

no no no.

you shift your hips, forcing his dick to rock in and out of you. It barely even moves. “Fuck, no—sto—"

Jason grunts. Chokes on it. 

you do it again, just the softest roll of your hips. “Baby, you don’t understand” he groans, arms shaking beside your head. “It’s okay” you coo, “it’s normal just- please” he swallows. yes he didn’t want to be the guy who blew it like a two pump chump but it’s true he wanted you to feel good to. god, he wants that more than his own pleasure. So, he moves.

A small thrust, just the last 2 inches coming out and in but he whines and turns his head away. You smile, “Hey. look at me, pretty boy”. he groans and looks down at you. god you look like a fucking angel.

He’s nearly drooling as he shudders and thrusts a few more times. Then he stops, “What are you doing?” he gulps.

You blink up at him. It’s true your hand had snaked down and drew a few circles around your clit but that was not a crime.

“I-“

“Show me how.”

“What?”

“That thing you’re doing. Feels good? Show. me. how.” Jason’s words would sound like a demand if he wasn’t bright red and pussy drunk. And instead of getting all butt hurt, he’s asking you to teach him and-

—and oh, isn’t your heart melting into a puddle.

You gently take one of his hands off the sheets next to him and guide his thick calloused fingers to your clit. “Just- circles or press a little.” you say, words cutting out with a moan when he rubs your clit. good to know he was a fucking natural. His eyes are glued to where his cock is pressed into you and he gulps before continuing his ministrations on your clit. Then he thrusts at the same time. You both moan in sync and he smiles, “‘m doing good? I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.”

You nod, simply letting him now it’s okay. A few more thrusts and he is shaking. Eyes closing as he gulps.

“Can i-.. in you?” he mutters.

“Yes.” you say calmly, chest heaving.

He buries his face in the warm crook of your neck, a bright flush over his scared skin. Then he’s coming and- “I love you” he groans and you pause.

“what?”

he’s only half conscious as he spurts into you. eyes rolling back as he gasps. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. I’m in love with you, have been for a while.”

you blink “i love you too, Jay.”

He keeps his head buried in your neck but he slowly trails some kisses along your jaw in response. His hand speeds up on your clit as he keeps pumping his slowly softening cock. After a few moments he sits back up, eyes hazy, “you haven’t- should i try again?” you laugh.

“Just give me a minute, love.” your hand snakes down and you lay your fingers on his, helping his finger your clit in that way that had you sparking. You tighten around him and he swears he’s seeing stars. “Fuck” he pulls out of you, grunts turning into a self satisfied smile when you come. You aren’t super loud or anything but he swears it’s the most beautiful melodic thing he has ever seen.

When you come down from your high, he’s laying half on top of you. You can feel his heartbeat thunder against yours, as if merging together—erratic and unsteady. “You did so good” you kiss the top of his head. “You too” he teases.

you have officially deflowered the great jason todd.

thank you for all the support! this is my first time really writing and i’m having a very fun time. i’m kinda new to tumbler so let me know if i’m doing this tag list wrong, lol.

@theendofthematerialgworl @nwjsns @anamiranda7383 @vicky342 @jayskookies @cyberangel-graphics

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Seasons of the Year

Autumn is the nerdy girl in your book club. Pigtails, pleated skirts, too thick glasses. Whenever she's forced to speak up in class, she almost always stutters. Getting softer with each word until the teacher finally has mercy on her and let's her trail off. She has few friends, mostly other slightly dorky kids who band together because otherwise they'd all be stuck eating alone. You don't really notice her at first.

But then you read Jane Eyre and for once she isn't shy at all. She tells your whole book club all about the symbolism, the themes, how she doesn't fully consider it a gothic novel but that it definitely has gothic elements. Her cheeks are just a little flushed, her hands darting around when she talks. She's pretty, you realise slowly. When she isn't folded over herself or scurrying through the hall like she doesn't want to be caught.

Afterwards, you strike up a conversation with her. She's all shy again, not really meeting your eyes.

"My dad's got a whole collection of classics. Special edition prints, with these hand painted edges," you tell her. "Why don't you stop by and you can borrow some?"

She narrows her eyes at you like she thinks you're making fun of her. "Maybe. If I have time."

She doesn't drop by. When you see her in the halls after that, you always stop to greet her. But she looks so uncomfortable that you never get to have a conversation. Always running off with her head bent so far down that you wonder how she sees anything past the tips of her shoes.

After a few weeks of half finished sentences and always keeping her books clutched to her chest, you're about ready to give up. To take the hint that she doesn't want to be your friend.

But then... she starts seeking you out. Tentative at first. Waiting outside your class and only saying hello if you're alone. Changing her route so that it takes her past your locker. Sitting just a little closer to you at lunch, almost always two tables away so you're in her line of sight.

Maybe she realises you aren't setting up some elaborate prank by talking to her. Your hurried hellos become actual conversations. She starts walking you to class every morning. When you again invite her over to borrow some books, she actually shows up.

Standing on your doorstep with the trees flaring yellow and orange behind her, her hair pushed out of her face with a red Alice band.

"Hi."

You lead her up to your room and she perches on the edge of your bed like she's scared to touch it. Scared to be in your space.

You were in the middle of sorting through your makeup before she showed up and now you look over at her with a twinkle in your eye.

"Will you let me do your makeup? Please?"

Her eyes go all wide behind her glasses. "Uh I don't know...I don't really wear that stuff..."

You sit in front of her, your kit spread on your lap. "Come on! You'll look so good. You've got such a great bone structure, it's practically a crime to not try some bronzer."

"I guess..."

You carefully reach up and take off her glasses. She flinches. "Shh, relax. It doesn't hurt."

You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and tilt her chin up with your finger. When you smooth primer over her skin, she subconsciously tilts her face into your palm.

"That feels nice..."

Her eye makeup is the trickiest part. She flinches every time you bring the eyeliner even close to her. Eventually, you slip your free hand around the nape of her neck. She freezes just long enough for you to add some wings. Her ears turn a bright red and she ducks away from you, stuttering.

"Ah sorry. Were my hands too cold?"

"N-no. No, your hands are...perfect."

You end up so close to her face that when she finally opens her eyes after mascara and lashes, she gasps. You run your thumb across her cheekbone to clear away a little spilled eye shadow.

"All done."

Even after you step away, it's takes her a few seconds to move.

"Do you like it?"

"I look so different."

You stand behind her in front of the mirror and rest your chin on her shoulder. "That's the magic of makeup! It's a good different. And besides, we're matching."

"Oh." She touches her fingers to her lips and looks down at the lipstick smeared on her fingertips. "I didn't notice. I...I really like it."

You pull away and grin at her. "Aren't you glad you let me do it?"

"Yeah," she says, still staring at her fingers. "Really glad."

When your lipstick and then your lip balm go missing, you don't even notice. What was it the kids used to say back in elementary? That if your lips touch where someone else's did, it counts as a kiss?

Autumn walks home through the falling leaves and wonders if you realise you're her first kiss.

Winter is the student council president. Confident, clever, a guy everyone says is going to be a great leader someday.

Oh, but he's cold too. Doesn't have any real friends, only achievements. Everyone knows him. Everyone respects him. But being respected and being liked are not at all the same thing.

You wonder if he ever gets lonely. You walk past the student council office during lunch one day and see him at his computer, a half eaten apple forgotten at his elbow. You shouldn't feel sorry for him. He's on the fast track to an ivy league and a career in finance. In a few years, he's going to be richer than you could ever hope to be. He takes home every performance award in every subject.

You shouldn't feel sorry for him. But you do.

"Hey, you got a minute?" You lightly rap on the doorframe and he turns to face you, not at all ruffled by your sudden appearance.

"Sure. You're y/n, right? I think we had algebra together a few years ago."

"Yep. Before you started taking AP classes and leaving all us peasants in the dust."

You're not surprised he knows you, despite never being introduced or even having a conversation before.

You grin at him. "Is an apple really the only lunch you're having? You've got to keep your energy up if you want to protect your title as smartest guy in school."

He frowns at his apple. The parts he's bitten are already starting to brown.

"I'm not that hungry."

You lean in the door frame and cross your arms. "I'm supposed to let our student present starve? If I let that happen, who's going to be around to defend our debate title? Stand up to the tyranny of the chess club?"

He scoffs and uses the tip of his pen to nudge the apple into the waste paper basket.

"Come eat lunch with me. I've been wanting to join some clubs and you can tell me what looks best on a college application. You can call it community service if you want," you offer.

That gets you a slightly raised brow. The most expressive you've seen him yet.

"What are they even offering today? I don't really stop at the cafeteria."

"Oh, you're in luck," you say. "Mashed potatoes and gravy. And it's only slightly congealed this time."

"Yum." Still, he stands up to follow you. He's much taller than you realised, and when he picks up his backpack his muscles flex in a way that tells you he isn't afraid of hitting the gym. Again, unsurprising. Except for his lunch, he seems the type to have his life in perfect balance.

When you finally sit down in the cafeteria, it isn't long before the other kids notice him. You're scarcely two bites into your lunch when the student magazine editor starts asking him about the budget for next semester. When that's settled, the chess team are next in line to complain about the state of their boards and to ask pretty please for some new pieces. It's only when the bell rings that they finally leave him alone. His lunch sits untouched in front of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

He shrugs and shoots you a half smile. "Thanks anyway. This was...nice."

It's only when he's gone that you start to wonder if anyone else has ever seen him smile.

You start taking him lunch in the office a few days a week. Mostly sandwiches and chocolate milk. Not exactly the pinnacle of good eating, but anything is better than nothing, right?

You always end up on his desk, ankles crossed while he reclines in his computer chair, chin tilted up slightly to meet your eyes. It's casual, easy. He's funny, in a deadpan kind of way. You end up learning a ton about college admissions, about extra credit, about Ivy League rankings.

When applications open, he's the first person you go to when you need help. Eventually, he just sighs and plucks your half finished essay from your backpack.

"Just let me handle it, jeez."

"Really? Oh my god, thank you!" You stand on your toes and pull him into a hug. "You have no idea how stressed I've been."

He freezes. And then slowly wraps his arms around your waist.

" 'Course," he mutters into the crown of your head. "I'd be happy to."

The thing about Winter as a season is that it can be so insidiously misleading. You assume the greatest danger is the ice, the cold. You don't realise that most deaths are from broken gas lines, from excess alcohol, from persistent coughs. You prepare yourself for all the wrong dangers.

You assume that if Winter wants something, he'll pursue it outright. You don't notice that your college applications are only being sent to places he's applied to as well. You don't notice the way he sneaks your name into the records for the debate team, the chess club, volunteering hours - a blatant forgery just so you have a better chance of being accepted at the institutions where he wants you.

You don't notice the way he always comes up to you when other guys are talking to you, dragging you away with a tight smile and an excuse about scheduling issues or needing your help with the budget.

You don't notice him falling for you until it's far, far too late.

Spring is the ultra cool, earthy girl in your art class. Always sporting a full afro or long goddess braids. Effortlessly chic, with gold jewellery in her hair no matter how busy school seems to get.

She moves through everything at her own pace. Not part of a clique but never alone either.

You've always known each other a little. Had a few classes together over the years, shared lunch once or twice. But life is hectic and your paths don't always cross as much as you'd like. So when you end up in art class hoping for extra credits, you're more than a little glad to see her.

She's talented. Her portfolio has art schools all across the country drooling, practically on their knees to offer her a full ride.

It would be easy to get jealous, and you have no doubt that more than a few of your classmates are. But you? You're just glad to see talent being appreciated.

It's a beautiful spring day when she comes up behind you and offers to give you some private lessons. Your hands are covered in charcoal, there's streaks of black on your cheeks and despite your efforts, your canvas is an unartistic mess.

You smile at her like she's heaven sent.

"Would you really? I know art is subjective and all, but I'm afraid everyone thinks I'm objectively bad."

She tilts your head at your canvas, beads in her braids clinking.

"Not as bad you think. I can see what you're trying to do. You just don't have enough technique yet."

When you meet her after school, the classroom is gold and hazy with the late afternoon sun. She makes you sit at her easel and leans on the back of your chair.

"Draw some perspective lines for me."

You try to, but by the third line her hands are already coming up to guide yours.

"No. Always try and stick to your vanishing point. Like this."

Her voice is low in your ear and you can smell her perfume, something sweet and flowery that makes you want to bury your face in her hair.

"See?"

"Mm-hmm. Easier when it's so direct."

"Good."

She stays right by your chair for the rest of the lesson, occasionally leaning down to adjust your grip. When the day is done, your hair smells like her perfume and your fingers ache from work well done.

She doesn't seem like the type to have a boyfriend. Maybe you're being unfair, but you just can't see it. She's so nonchalant, so very much herself, that the antics of teenage boys seem so very beneath her. She must like someone though, because a few weeks after she starts tutoring you, you get a glimpse of her latest piece. A sketch of her leaning down to kiss someone, their face obscured by the fall of her hair.

If it were anyone else, you would tease them relentlessly about it. Who do you got a crush on so bad that you want to draw them?

Not her though. You respect her art too much to make light of it like that. And when her portfolio starts filling up with love poems, with tributes, with re-interpretations of Le Printemps and Le Sommeil... Well, you pretend not to notice.

It's only at the very end of the year that you start to really wonder who it's all about. When you finish your final piece - the best canvas to date, the one you and her poured hours of work into - she leans down and presses her lips against your signature. It leaves behind a lipstick print in a deep, gorgeous red. Somehow brings the whole piece together.

"I love it," you tell her, eyes on your art.

"So do I," she says, eyes on you.

Summer is the tanned, laughing jock who's always filling up the hall with his voice. Friendly, likeable. Just about everyone has a crush on him.

Not a bully, though he has the size and strength for it. Helpful, in his big, well meaning way.

His future is clear for everyone to see. Working in his dad's construction company until its time to take over, marrying a girl just as pretty and golden as him, becoming the kind of father that other kids look at and long for. It's a good life. It suits him. Days filled with sunshine and love and laughter. He deserves it.

So when he asks you to tutor him, you assume he doesn't want anything more than a better grade. Books and calculators spread out on the bleachers after practice, the smell of fresh cut grass in the air, summer sun warm and gold over the football field. If you were more his type, you'd call it romantic.

As it is, you just appreciate the good weather and the good company. When his teammates joke that he's tanking his grades on purpose just to spend time with you, you laugh and say you're sure he's got better things to do with his time that that.

It takes a few months, but his grades do improve. And when you go through the homework together, it's clear that he understands what he's doing.

"Well champ, seems my work here is done. You're ahead of the class, you understand the methods and your papers have all come back with Bs and above."

You shrug, smile at him. "You're free to go. Have your afternoons back."

"What?" He frowns at you, water bottle halfway to his mouth. "No. The year isn't over yet."

You laugh, a little flattered that he seems so upset to see you go. "I know. But you don't need me anymore. Just practice the problems I marked out for you and you'll be just fine."

For once, he seems at a loss for words. You stand, sling your backpack over your shoulder. It's just you and him left on the bleachers, the empty football field a behemoth between you and the school building.

When you're halfway across, he catches up with you. Grabs your backpack and stops you in your tracks.

"What about English? I really need some help with the novel. And my chemistry is a mess. Seriously, we can't stop now. You can't just...leave me like that."

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he sounded almost panicked.

"I think Jackson from homeroom is your best bet with chemistry. Oh, and I'll send you my English notes. I did a whole section on themes and stuff."

He frowns again. "No. No. I don't want any of that. I want you."

The skin at the nape of your neck prickles, despite the late afternoon sun being full on your back. Was he always so much bigger than you? How didn't you notice it before?

"Hey, listen. I know you're worried. But we've put in tons of effort. You know your stuff. When exam season rolls around, you'll be just fine."

You try and walk away but he's still holding onto your bag.

"I can pay you."

"I don't want money," you say, irritated and offended both. "I never wanted to be paid for any of this. You're a great guy. I'm happy to help you out."

"Then stay."

Why is he being so persistent? His hold on your backpack tightens when you don't immediately answer.

"Please."

That decides you. How can you say no when a nice guy is practically begging? You're not a monster.

You sigh. "Fine. But only until after homecoming, 'kay?"

"Sure," he says. "I'll let you go when I'm done. Promise."

In the last light of a long summer day, you make the mistake of believing him. 

[curiousorigins]

Yeah, I had this whole period of a few years where I was working a near full time retail job, going to college (over full time via credit hours) and commuting around an hour-2 hours each way depending on when in that period and if I happened to get my favorite bus driver. (he shaved a full 20-40 minutes off of my 2 transfers commute.) Pretty much I had time for nothing especially when you factored in that I get motion sick, so I couldn't manage to do homework on the bus (I could at best manage audio language tapes... as that talk to text stuff was bad then and I have audio processing issues) and I wasn't sleeping well. (I've fallen asleep in a moving vehicle twice in my life for longer than 2 minutes. Once after a full 2 weeks of not sleeping for about 5 minutes (according to friend who was driving) and another on the bus during this period. And yes I was awoken because the bus returned to the bus service garage.) and had to actively play rock music (complete with an audio effects CD on shuffle which was the surprising boon to my playlists. I will never create a Mix CD/Playlist without random animal noises and sirens again.) in order to prevent myself from falling asleep in public and leaving my body to the whims of strangers around me.

So funny thing about this period of my life... whether due to the lack of calories. (no required meal plan as part of tuition as I was commuting to school and thus college not obligated to prevent student starvation. However it was a community college and thus real awesome at providing free food opportunities to those willing to follow their nose/rumors of free food with enough free time between classes to indulge.) lack of sleep, financial stress (I mostly save a few minor grants self-funded my schooling... ending with less than $1,500 debt my final semester despite going to college in the U.S. [highly recommend community colleges. However don't do this. I almost died so many times. I got an ulcer that led to 2 weeks of internal bleeding and missed 2 weeks of work and like 10 years+ fearing many foods. Getting a loan in this case would have been smarter. Yes even with how student loans are.] my grades also couldn't keep up and I lost any academic related funding as well. Including eventually the student loans. I pretty much had a major mental health crisis on top of very horrible health crisises... that for a period at up approximately 6 hours of my none-free-time but actual doing homework/studying/relaxing [If I ever had a chance] time. Don't do it.

Anyways I learned to eat one handed. We were raised in a set the table and use utensils with the proper hand etc household... so yeah for me this was a college-age learned skill. I learned to scarf down (already had to a degree. God bless ovrcrowded public schools where) ANYTHING in less than 10 minutes provided I was hungry enough. To eat (sort of neatly) when walking. To chug 44oz of water etc in about 5 minutes. (My job consisted of unloading trucks in lack of climate control in near one of the hottest places on earth for 3 months of the year. Funny thing, also near the coldest for near the same period of time annually. And I was always at risk of passing out from dehydration. I literally hardly peed during this period because I was sweating enough to keep up with the minimal gallon of water/sport's drink etc I was drinking per day.)

I also had started getting into art and social media. (I actually briefly was making minor waves.) and the only time I had to draw consisted of my breaks and meal breaks at work (because again I got motion sick in moving vehicles). I was drawing, inking, and painting in watercolor 25 days a month, completing an average of 25-40 paintings during that month. Work was the main area where I had wiggle room to socialize, so I was often, drawing/painting in the breakroom while stuffing my face with as many calories as possible (I was unloading trucks and at the height of my families' weirdly high metabolism) while talking. So I was penciling/drawing/finalizing an average of 10-15 minutes (while eating), inking in 5-10 minutes and painting in 15-25 minutes/day. (While eating). Oh and because there literally wasn't a schedule where I could possibly eat a meal at home 5-6 days/week; I also developed absolute zero shame to munching whereever I was, no matter what was going on (though little kid me was ahead of the curve because PBS used to broadcast surgeries on Sundays and I was fascinated. And would have my lunch/dinner watching them and only once they were wiggling around intestines while I was eating spaghetti and had a bad brain sensory visual textural experience. Otherwise I was good to go.) [as an aside, this includes that poor person who was 'pregnant' for a few decades, via the rare ectopic pregnancy that doesn't cause a patient to go septic, who's surgery ended up being broadcast on PBS for some reason... I would assume exploitation to pay for the surgery itself. That's called

(Trigger warning for link above: Many examples of very late term incomplete pregnancies that are identifiably human fetuses that are not compatible with life. Stopped living often decades before they might have been born had the embroyos implanted elsewhere. Frozen in gestation. Images within that could be disturbing to those mourning a miscarriage, actively pregnant, suffering infertility issues etc. Please do use your best judgement and do not click the link above if you're not in a place where one could take their time, energy etc to emotionally deal with such a disturbance.)

But yeah I can eat in pretty any condition. Not super cleanly... mostly because I don't care. My Dad hates going out to eat with me and has to remind me that I won't have successful dates (while I'm not interested in dating anyone) because of how I eat. While I say, "Might as well eat like a pig on the first date, not that there will be dates. Because this how I eat. If they can't stomach it. Then I'm saving us both some hassle." And quickly too. I can't manage to hold my breath while swimming/diving or do that weird pushing breath out to prevent water in your nose thing. But I can breath while I'm actively drinking and eating. I can also eat while talking while not telegraphing that I have food in my mouth via sound or sight.

Those are just some of the few unintended skills I ended up developing, perfecting out of genuine necessity and survival. And no, I don't ever want to live like that again. I respect myself too much to out myself through it. Of course when I decided I'd take commissions at conventions while selling my art, these are skills that I started to purposefully develop.

Jobs don’t always limit the skills you learn to the job itself. For instance, when I worked at Red Robin, they’d offer 30 minutes for an unpaid lunch, or 15 if you wanted to get paid the whole time. If you think that’s extremely shitty join the club.

As a result of wanting money I got really good at eating quickly so I could use my break to read or relax. I’ve always been a fast eater but when I worked there I learned how to eat an entire burger and fries in under five minute while keeping up a conversation. This is not advisable for good digestion, eat slow and chew your food.

There’s a balance to not talking with your mouth full and eating extremely quickly and it was a regularly used skill for years. When I worked at a sex shop I bragged about it once to a coworker.

She watched me with a timer going after I told her about it and we got burgers. I chatted with her the whole time. I was done in four minutes forty seconds.

Afterward she looked haunted and commented, “It was like watching a snake unhinge it’s jaw but you never talked with food in your mouth!”

More recently my beloved and I were catching up with a friend over lunch. I had a sandwich while they’d gotten falafel plates. We were having a lovely chat but after I finished a story our friend said, “I don’t want your food to go cold while you talk!”

I was surprised. I’d been deliberately talking more so she could eat. I turned to show her my empty sandwich box. Both she and my beloved were stunned. It was like I’d performed a magic trick and made my sandwich disappear because neither had even noticed me demolishing it like a snake unhinging it’s jaw.

[plutotheplum]

I'm Your Man

caleb x fem!reader

summary: riling up your boyfriend is entirely too easy. when he finds out you have a tutor that happens to be a man... well, it's safe to say caleb hates that sort of thing.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, kissing, spanking, oral sex, vaginal fingering, p in v, praise kink, finger sucking, exhibitionism, jealous!caleb, established relationship, modern au

w/c: 5.8k

a/n: *caleb seeing reader near a guy* crashes out immediately - hope you all enjoy!! <3

also on ao3!

“Baby!”

You squeak when the door swings open, the man in front of you moving in a blur. There’s a pair of lips landing against your cheek in a quick kiss before he wraps his arms around you, lifting you up off of the ground, his faze nuzzling into your chest.

“C- Caleb,” you whine, squirming in his hold, trying to get him to set you back down, “put me down, you dork.”

“But I missed you,” Caleb grumbles back, rubbing his face all over your top like a cat, nuzzling into your chest. He finally grants your request once he’s satisfied, hands smoothing down over your sides once he sets you down onto your feet.

You smile when he cups your cheeks, humming happily when he begins to pepper soft kisses all over your face, his thumbs smoothing over your skin gently.

“I missed you too,” you say, arms wrapping around his neck to tug him down for a kiss, sighing softly against his mouth.

Caleb groans, his hands squeezing at your waist, kissing you back eagerly. You huff out a laugh when he gropes at your ass, rocking up onto your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s it?” he protests when you pull away, pushing your hands away when you try to tug your duffle bag into his apartment.

“I literally just got here,” you muse, watching as he grabs your bag for you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you silently appreciate the flex of your boyfriend’s biceps as he carries your duffle bag into his bedroom for you. 

You shut his front door, securing the lock, before trailing after him. Caleb is reaching for you the moment you step inside his bedroom, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and letting out a contented sigh.

“Missed you so much,” he sighs, voice muffled with the way he’s pressed his face against your neck, his nose digging into you, lips brushing over your skin. 

“Sometimes I wonder how you live without me,” you tease, hands stroking over his hair gently, scratching his scalp every now and then.

“I hardly get by,” Caleb complains aggrievedly, tugging you towards his bed. “I think I have withdrawals every time you leave.”

A laugh slips out of you at that, crawling up to snuggle into his arms, leaning back to rest your head on his shoulder. Caleb kisses your cheek, his chest warm and firm against your back as he hums in satisfaction. 

“I only have a year left before I graduate, then I can move in with you,” you remind him, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as Caleb busies himself with trying to meld his body against yours.

“Feels like an eternity,” he mutters, huffing out a breath. Caleb props his chin on your shoulder, eyes trained on your phone as you watch some random video. “How are your classes anyways?”

“Not bad,” you say, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I was struggling in one of them, but I sorted that out.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, pecking your lips gently in return, “how’d you do that?”

“I got a tutor,” you shrug, glancing up at him before turning your attention back to your phone. “He’s pretty good.”

You can feel Caleb stiffening behind you, his fingers stopping their movements against your sides. Your brows furrow, tossing your phone somewhere in front of you before turning back to look at Caleb properly. There’s a tell-tale pout beginning to form on his lips; something you’ve gotten used to ever since you were children.

“What’s wrong?”

“He?” Caleb echoes, his eyes darkening, “your tutor’s a guy?”

“Well… yeah?” you reply like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “the dude is like super smart; top of the class and everything. I figured he’d be the best to teach me.” 

“I’m super smart,” Caleb shoots back, and you raise your brows when you see a frown coming across his face, his lips turning downwards. “And I was the top of all my classes. Definitely smarter than your little tutor. Drop him.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, turning around his arms until you settle on his lap, thighs straddling his hips.

“Yeah?” you smile, peering up at him, “you don’t even know the syllabus, Caleb.”

“I can learn it,” he protests stubbornly, “besides, I am smart. I’m a fighter pilot, baby.”

Your smile widens when you see Caleb’s chest puff out a little, his proud nature showing - not that you minded. Your fingers smooth up over the back of his shoulders, a soft sigh escaping Caleb when you play with the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut.

“You can just say it,” you whisper teasingly, pressing yourself a little closer. “You’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” Caleb echoes, his lips pursing as he considers your words. “Maybe,” he shrugs, his eyes opening as he stares down at you, “or maybe…” he whispers, lowering his head to brush a kiss across your lips, “maybe I just want to keep my girl to myself.”

Your cheeks flush when he calls you his girl, heart fluttering in your chest. The words echo in your mind, brushing whatever thoughts were filling your mind away. He always knew how to disarm you, and you can never quite get used to Caleb’s possessiveness, his need to have his claim on you. It’s thrilling and nothing else has ever made you feel so wanted.

“Hm?” Caleb hums against your cheek, “my girl is all mine. Right, baby?”

Hands pawing at his firm chest, you nod, leaning into him as though in a daze. You lean up, making a small noise, trying to kiss him. Caleb clicks his tongue, his hand cupping your jaw, fingers squeezing gently on either side of your cheeks to bring you out of the slow, syrupy haze that was currently fogging your mind. 

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes- yes,” you say insistently, pouting before you pucker up your lips a little more, desperate for a kiss, “‘m all yours, Caleb.”

“Good girl.”

You preen at the praise, mewling softly when he kisses you. Caleb’s hands squeeze at your hips gently, trying to stop all of your squirming and jostling on top of his lap. A dissatisfied sound leaves you when he stops you from grinding across his lap, your eyes narrowing as you peer up at him.

“I thought you missed me, Caleb.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand that was currently sliding down his chest, his lips pressing against your palm when he manages to unfurl the fist you’d made with your fingers. 

“You’re so grabby,” Caleb mumbles against your palm, “‘m tryna take it slow, baby.”

“I don’t want slow,” you huff out, fisting his shirt and yanking him towards you. “I want you to fuck me.”

There’s a smirk on Caleb’s lips, his nose nudging against yours, fingers pressing into your back.

“Last time you cried when I-”

“Shut up!” you sputter, slapping your hand over his mouth, cheeks hot with embarrassment when you remember what had happened last time. Caleb’s hand wrapped around your throat, fingers relentless against your clit, cock pounding entirely too deep-  “That was- it was overwhelming!”

Caleb opens his mouth to respond, mischief glinting in his eyes, but your phone ruins the moment, ringing out. You groan, turning your back to him as you reach for your phone that you had tossed over to the foot of his bed.

“Who is it?” Caleb asks, his fingers wrapping around your ankles as you kick up your legs lazily.

“My tutor,” you reply, showing him your phone.

A smile spreads across your face when you see Caleb’s playful expression drop, replaced with something akin to annoyance.

“You know,” you continue, your voice dipping into a drawling taunt just to piss him off, “bet he’d fuck me if I asked him.”

“You little-” Caleb hisses, his voice rising as he tries to grab for your phone.

You pull it out of his reach, pressing a finger to your lips, making a hushing motion. Caleb’s expression grows darker the moment you swipe your finger across the screen to answer, his hands tightening their grip on your ankles.

“Hi,” you chirp sweetly, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Uh hey,” the man on the other end of the line replies, “are you free to talk?”

You hum, sneaking a glance towards Caleb who seems close to snapping, his glare venomous when he catches your eyes. Too easy, you think, biting your lip to stifle a laugh at his thinly veiled anger.

“Super free,” you say pointedly, “what did you want to talk abo- ow!”

A sharp yelp escapes you when Caleb’s hand comes down on your ass, the slap stinging. A strangled whine escapes you, your head whipping around to glare back at Caleb, feeling your eye twitch. Your boyfriend meets your eyes with a hard glare of his own, his fingers pushing up the hem of your skirt to examine the rapidly reddening skin of your ass.

“You okay?” your tutor asks, a tinge of concern in his voice.

“F- fine,” you manage out, “just- just um- stubbed my toe!”

“Right,” he murmurs, “hate when that happens.”

You nod along as though he can see you, trying to kick Caleb in the face as you roll over onto your back. The wind is knocked out of you when Caleb grabs you by the waist, manhandling you until you’re laying on your front again, his hands squeezing at your ass roughly, hand coming down again in a harsh smack.

“Ouch!”

“You uh- you stubbed your toe again?” your tutor asks tentatively.

“Mhm,” you say, voice slightly breathless with the restraint it was taking you not to cry out. “I’m- ‘m just really clumsy.”

Your fingers tremble as you manage to mute yourself on your phone, letting out a whimper when Caleb spanks you again and again, a hint of regret pooling inside of you at pushing your boyfriend this far.

“Unmute,” Caleb murmurs, gripping your hips to make you arch a bit, ass up in the air for him to spank again, your skin hot and prickly. His voice is a low snap when you don’t do as he says, your throat bobbing as you swallow harshly, Caleb’s tone growing firmer, no longer requesting but demanding. “C’mon baby, unmute the fucking phone.” 

You whine in protest, but do as he says, shakily unmuting yourself. You can hardly hear whatever your tutor was rambling on about, eyes blinking rapidly to try and concentrate. It’s all in vain however, when Caleb rains down another slap to your ass, your teeth sinking into your forearm to muffled a pained gasp.

“Bad fucking girl,” Caleb mutters lowly, “such a bratty, little slut.”

The itch to argue and bite back prickles across your skin, but Caleb’s hands are smoothing over you ass, and you wiggle your hips back to meet the soft pets he rewards your ass with; his fingers prodding and pushing your ass cheeks apart to take a glimpse of your panties.

“Anyways,” your tutor continues, “I was just calling because my schedule’s changed so I might not be able to tutor you during the time we agreed on.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, eyes widening as Caleb tugs at your panties, pulling them away from your skin before he lets go, the elastic snapping back against your skin. “That’s- that’s uh- too bad?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “do you mind if we settle on a different day?”

There’s an answer sitting on the tip of your tongue, but Caleb pulls at your ankle, managing to flip you over onto your back. He tightens his grip, your body sliding against the sheets as he tugs you towards him.

“N- no,” you hiss, forgetting about the man on the other end of the line, too preoccupied by trying to simultaneously yank your leg free whilst trying to kick Caleb’s face, “don’t you dare!”

Caleb only gives you a lazy grin, his hands managing to catch both your ankles and tug you further down the bed. 

“Don’t you dare?” your tutor echoes confusedly, and you squeeze your eyes shut, wincing at the misunderstanding.

You laugh, trying to cover up your flustered state, head dropping back against the sheets as Caleb smiles against the soles of your feet, peppering kisses all over the expanse of your feet.

“That’s not what I meant,” you grit out, shaking your head vehemently when Caleb smooths his hands over your thighs, pushing your skirt up to expose your panties.

You can feel your brain short-circuiting when your boyfriend settles between your thighs, his hands grasping at your thighs, squeezing at the fat before he turns his head, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

“So you’re okay with me rescheduling?”

“Y- yes!” you say, your voice pitching upwards awkwardly when Caleb rubs his fingers over your clothed cunt, his head dipping down to press kisses to your damp panties.

“Great,” he says, sounding a little chipper, “how does Friday sound? Maybe 10-12 in the morning?”

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out hazily, fingers brushing through Caleb’s hair as he pulls your panties down your legs, your half-lidded gaze not missing the way he slips them into the pocket of his sweats - another addition to his growing collection.

Perv.

You sigh, biting your lip as Caleb kisses your puffy folds, his tongue sliding through them after, your grip on your phone loosening as you squeeze your breast, squirming under Caleb’s ministrations.

He stares up at you, pulling back to lick his lips, strings of slick clinging to his lips and chin. You smile hazily and Caleb leans forward, stealing a quick kiss before burying his face back into your aching pussy. 

“Uh- does that sound good?” your tutor asks, his voice sounding a little unsure with all the sighing and soft noises you were let out.

“So good,” you murmur absentmindedly, thighs squeezing around Caleb’s head gently, enough to tease him a little.

Caleb gives you a pointed stare, his teeth sinking into your thigh before he smirks, nodding towards your phone.

You flush, embarrassment making your body go hot. “I- I mean y- yeah! That sounds perfect!”

“Okay, let me just write that down-”

You tug at Caleb’s hair, mouth dropping open when he latches onto your clit, sucking harshly. The sensations make your thighs twitch, toes curling as they press up against Caleb’s broad back, a soft mewl leaving you when you see the flex of his muscles through his shirt.

“Pretty pussy missed me,” Caleb whispers, his voice barely audible. He sighs contentedly when he thumbs apart your folds, the sheets rustling slightly as you watch him grind his hips into the bed, Caleb’s eyes not wavering from the clench of your pussy around nothing. “So wet, hm? Gonna ruin my sheets, baby.”

You whimper when he draws back, thighs twitching when he gathers a considerable amount of spit in his mouth, spitting down onto your clenching pussy. It’s filthy really, but Caleb is well-versed in your body; knows you well enough to know that you’ll go along with whatever he offers you.

Your fingers push at his head gently when he tries to kiss your clit, moving your hand down to spread your pussy for him instead, rubbing his spit into your cunt, mixing it with your slick. Caleb lets out a low groan at the sight, and you smile prettily, pressing your wet fingers against his mouth, smearing it over his lips.

His tongue lolls out soon after, licking his lips and you feed him your fingers, hips rolling up needily when he sucks on your fingers lazily. “Want you to cum for me on call,” Caleb slurs, licking between your fingers, grazing his teeth against the pads of them.

“What?” you hiss, brows raising incredulously. “I am not doing that.”

Caleb ignores you, busying himself with burying his face back into your cunt. You stifle a moan, biting down on your lip hard enough to remind yourself that you shouldn’t have been doing this; be on a call whilst your boyfriend was eating you out.

“I was thinking we could meet up at the library.”

Your tutor’s voice breaks through the haze and you grit your teeth, silently regretting the fact that you’d been the one to start this whole ordeal in the first place.

“The- ah- the library sounds good,” you mumble, eyes squeezing shut when Caleb begins to double his efforts, sucking and slurping, the sounds entirely too lewd and perhaps audible to the man on the phone. “

You press down on Caleb’s head, fingers tangling with his hair, back arching. Caleb’s smile is obvious, you can feel it against your cunt, his head tilting as he prods at your aching hole, beginning to fuck you with his tongue. A shudder racks through you, an impatient whine slipping out of you, desperate to orgasm.

“Be good, baby,” Caleb murmurs, replacing his tongue with his fingers, curling them up inside of you.

You try to stifle a moan and Caleb is feeling nice enough to help you, his free hand sliding up over your stomach, squeezing at your tits appreciatively before stuffing his fingers into your mouth to muffle your noises.

Legs jerking, you try to hold still, but when Caleb latches back onto your clit, your entire body quakes. It’s torture, the way Caleb knows how to play with you, his mouth smashing against your dripping pussy to suck more feverishly to drive you further towards the edge.

“The library it is then,” your tutor notes down. “Or you could always come over.”

Come over. Come. Cum. Cum?

A drunken giggle slips out of you, fingers running through Caleb’s soft hair as he flicks his tongue against your clit, stroking over it gently before his mouth suctions around the swollen bud, making your back arch. Yeah, you think hazily, you were going to cum. 

“Mhm,” you slur, “‘m definitely gonna be cumming.”

“You- you are?” he sounds a little surprised, “you know, I’ve never had someone so eager to learn. It’s actually kinda… refreshing, honestly so thank you.”

“You’re so welcome,” you mewl, hips rocking up against Caleb’s face, feeling the huff of laughter your boyfriend lets out against your pussy, his hand coming down to spread you apart for him again, his fingers thrusting in and out of you faster.

You bite down on your lip, body seizing up when Caleb crooks his fingers inside of you just right, the sensation of his tongue on your clit enough to have your back arching, toes digging into Caleb’s back as you cum.

Caleb groans, kissing your clit sloppily, his tongue sliding through your puffy folds to drink up every last drop of slick that he could find. He laps over your pussy, nuzzling into your thigh after as you shudder and shake, kissing your hip to help soothe you through the aftermath of your orgasm.

You’re too boneless to stop Caleb from reaching for your phone, eyes fluttering shut, unable to stop the syrupy atmosphere that had befallen you.

“Hung up for you,” he murmurs, putting your phone somewhere, his lips landing on your cheek for a sweet kiss.

“I didn’t get to say bye to him,” you mumble belatedly, arms wrapping around Caleb’s neck lazily.

Caleb clicks his tongue, sending you a half-hearted glare. “You don’t need to say bye to him, baby. Stop thinking about him. I just made you cum on my tongue.”

“But he’s just so helpful,” you sigh lazily, feeling Caleb’s fingers dig into your hips.

“For fuck’s sake,” Caleb mutters, rolling his eyes, “I’m helpful and I’m your fucking boyfriend.”

You smile up at him, tugging him down to kiss him. Caleb lets out a low noise against your lips, his hands squeezing at your waist, shuddering when you scratch his scalp.

“You don’t have to be so butthurt, baby,” you coo, sitting up, “I still love you.”

“Not enough apparently,” Caleb grouses, tugging his shirt up over his head.

You go hazy eyed at the sight, hand running up over your boyfriend’s defined abdomen, your fingers catching on his dog tags situated between his unfairly thick pecs. 

“Gonna fuck me now?” you ask him sweetly, tugging his sweats and boxers down to free his cock.

Caleb’s cock bobs free and you sigh dreamily at the sight, the head of it wet with thick globs of pre-cum; damning evidence of his arousal. Your hand wraps around his fat cock, the length hot and throbbing under your touch. 

It’s all too much for Caleb who lets out a shuddering noise, his head dropping forward, resting against your shoulder as you stroke his cock lazily, leaning forward to spit on it. Caleb whines and you take the opportunity to lean forward, mouthing at his pecs, pressing open-mouthed kisses across his heated skin.

“Fuck, baby,” Caleb sighs, hands coming up to cradle your head against his chest, his cock twitching in your hands when you reach down to squeeze at his balls, your teeth scraping across his sternum playfully. 

“Missed your cock,” you whisper, rising up onto your knees to kiss up his neck. “‘s just so big and thick,” you say appreciatively. 

“Do you even think about me?” Caleb protests, his head tipping to the side to bare more of his neck to you, “or do you just think about my fat fuckin’ cock?”

“It’s not a crime to think about it,” you huff out, angling your head to kiss the underside of his jaw. “I just really like it.”

“Brat,” he mutters, reaching down to grope your ass. “You sound like you have a crush on my cock.”

“You steal my panties!” you shoot back exasperatedly, glaring up at him before biting down on his shoulder in retaliation.

“Maybe I just really like the cute little designs,” Caleb drawls, yanking your head back using your hair before dipping his head to kiss you messily, his tongue invading your mouth, practically fucking you with it until there’s spit leaking from the sides of your mouths.

You moan, pawing at his broad shoulders, mewling happily when he manhandles you to his will, turning you over onto your front, his hands tugging your ass up into the air, making you arch for him.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarls, landing a spank to your ass. “Ask for my cock, sweetheart, c’mon.”

You whimper, face shoving into the sheets, grabbing at them to try and ground yourself. The sounds of Caleb stroking his cock making your pussy throb, hips wiggling back to try and make him push his cock inside.

“W- want it inside,” you demand, yelping when Caleb smacks your ass again.

“Think you can do better than that,” Caleb murmurs, his hand smoothing up over your back, his cock slapping against your aching cunt, before he presses the tip of it in before drawing it back out. “Hm? Wanna hear you all pretty, baby.”

“P- please?” you hiccup, feeling desperate tears prick at your lash line - a sign of your own desperation and need to have him close, no, in you. “C- can I p- please have your cock, Caleb? Please?” 

“You sound so sweet when you ask like that,” Caleb says dreamily, dipping his head to reward your cheek with a kiss. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

A shaky breath escapes you, your cheek squishing against the sheets, eyes slipping shut when he sinks his cock inside of you. You’ve slept with Caleb countless times, but you can never get quite used to the stretch of his cock and the way it manages to turn every rational thought in your mind to mush.

Caleb doesn’t seem to be faring better, letting out a guttural groan as he buries himself into the hilt. You can’t help but think he’s being a little louder than usual, but you’re not complaining.

“So tight,” he rasps hoarsely, fingers spreading apart your ass to watch his cock sink in and out of you, his eyes silently appreciating the way your cunt is stretched out around his cock. “Feels so good, baby.”

You mumble something back incoherently, content to let him have you like this, his hips smacking into your ass loudly with every thrust he delivers.

“Love you, Caleb,” you mewl when you feel him kiss up your back and over your shoulder, his face pressing into the crook of your neck, “love you much.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes, drawing his hips back before driving them into you harder and faster, “so good to me, aren’t you?”

“Mhm,” you nod, rising up onto your hands, turning your head to kiss him, “‘m your good girl.”

Caleb grunts, his arm wrapping around your waist. “You weren’t being good when you were talking to him.”

You pout, too horny to roll your eyes and tell him that he was being wildly immature and entirely too possessive for his own good. Instead, you squirm forward, Caleb’s cock slipping out of you despite his protests.

“Should I make it up to you?” you ask sweetly, voice lilting as you bat your lashes up at him.

“Make it up to me?” Caleb echoes, his breath hitching when you crawl towards him, hips swaying a little, your hands pushing at his shoulders to get him to lay down.

You hum in response, crawling up over him, settling on his lap. You smile when he groans loudly, your hips rolling as you grind your pussy over his hard, aching cock.

“Ride me,” he mutters dazedly, pre-cum coating his abdomen. “Sink down on my cock and ride me, baby.”

“I’m enjoying this though,” you say teasingly, hands planted firmly on his chest as you roll your hips again, moaning softly when his cock slides through your folds, the tip of it catching on your clit. “W- wait- Caleb!”

You squeak when he grabs for you roughly, picking you up easily, dropping you down onto his cock. A sharp cry escapes you, cunt clenching around him in a desperate attempt to get accustomed to his size.

“‘m gonna fuck the brattiness outta you,” Caleb murmurs, his lips slotting over yours to seal the promise. “And then-” he moans, his head tipping back slightly as he guides you to rock your hips, feeling your cunt around his throbbing cock, “and then, you’re gonna scream my name while you cum.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, gasping as he begins to bounce you on his cock, your ass smacking against his thighs. You don’t need much encouragement, not when Caleb’s mouth is sucking and biting at your neck, most likely leaving numerous hickeys in his wake. 

“Who's making you feel this good?” your boyfriend asks, “huh, baby?”

“Y- you are!” you squeal when he slaps your ass, hugging his head as he buries his face into your chest, his mouth sucking at your nipple before switching over to the other breast, biting a mark into the fat of it.

“That’s right,” Caleb growls, “I am, not anyone else. Just me and my cock, yeah?”

“Yes- yes! Oh fuck- hah- C- Caleb!”

He snarls, pulling you down, breasts squishing up against his chest. You squirm, hardly able to believe you’d manage to piss him off into such a state. Caleb wraps his arms around you, his knees bending as he plants his feet firmly against his bed, beginning to thrust up into you.

“S- so deep,” you hiccup, pressing sloppy kisses to his jaw, “you’re the best.”

Caleb groans, his heart fluttering at your words, a light flush covering his cheeks. Despite everything, your words still manage to fluster him, the softness of your lips on his cheek making his body throb with affection.

He manages to tilt his head, capturing your lips with his, uncaring that your kisses were slightly clumsy and uncoordinated with how fucked out you were. You whimper when he quickens his pace, cock pounding into you, his balls slapping against your ass.

“‘m gonna c- cum,” you whine, pussy clenching down around his cock desperately.

“Yeah?” Caleb rasps, kissing the corner of your mouth, “gonna cum on my cock, sweetheart?”

You nod rapidly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, letting out a contented coo. Caleb grunts out your name, his fingers reaching down to squeeze at your ass, fucking up into you over and over again until you squeal and scream, his name leaving your mouth in a slurred chant.

“C- Caleb! I- ah! I love you!”

“Cum,” Caleb snaps, burying himself into the hilt, his hand managing to find your clit. You whine when he rubs it, body shuddering on top of his as you cum, your nails digging into his broad shoulders. “There you go, baby.”

You let out a dazed sound when Caleb kisses you, lips pressing together sloppily, his cock twitching inside of you.

“Fuck,” Caleb mutters, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his thighs trembling slightly as his hot, thick cum floods your pussy. “So good to me, sweetheart.”

You flop down onto the bed, chest rising and falling as you pant raggedly, Caleb’s softening cock slipping out of you. His cum smears across your thigh when he moves towards you, his face pressing into your chest as he kisses your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth playfully until you push at his head in protest.

“I should rile you up more,” you muse, fingers tracing over his lips gently, a triumphant smile on your face.

Caleb rolls his eyes, kissing the pads of your fingers. “Maybe you should,” he concedes finally, running a hand through his hair, looking a little weary, his cheeks flushed prettily. 

You cup his cheeks, pulling him closer to pepper kisses over his face, to his cheeks, forehead and brows, laughing when he returns your kisses and sucks the fat of your cheek into his mouth childishly.

“Y’all are freaks.”

The smile on your face fades, the color all but draining from your face when you hear a crackly voice coming from your phone. You glance towards Caleb, and the asshole in question looks entirely too smug and pleased, a lazy grin spread out across his face.

The cozy intimate atmosphere around you seems to fade, annoyance flitting across your face. You have half a mind to slap Caleb across the face, your jaw clenching as your teeth grit together, but the more pressing issue at hand wins out. You only need to sit up to spy the dangerous glint in your boyfriend’s eyes. The bed dips under both of you, sheets rumpling in a flurry as you both scramble towards your phone, trying to grab it first.

“I am so sorry-” you begin, shrieking when Caleb tugs your phone from your hand. You flail, trying to crawl up onto his lap, shoving at his shoulders in an attempt to snatch your phone back, desperate to save the last shreds of your now scarce and very much dwindling dignity.

“You could’ve hung up,” Caleb retorts bluntly into your phone, his thumb pushing into your mouth when you open your mouth to protest. “Now fuck off.”

You watch as Caleb disconnects the call, your eyes narrowing, not tempted to suck on his thumb like you might’ve been in any other situation. Instead, you bite down, satisfaction coursing through you when Caleb yelps, watching as his eyes squeezing shut in pain. You cling on stubbornly, glaring up at him when he tries to pull his thumb free, a wince leaving him as pain flares up through his thumb. You don’t let go until Caleb protests, his hand pushing at your forehead gently.

“So mean, sweetheart,” he complains, wrapping his arms around you, his face nuzzling into your chest, mouthing at the sides of your breasts lazily. 

You stare down at your boyfriend, the soft tufts of his brown hair now messy and sticking up into your face. You can feel your eye beginning to twitch, irritation prickling across your skin.

“What the fuck was that?” you snap, swatting the side of his head, “you said you hung up!”

“Must’ve forgotten,” Caleb mumbles, his expression feigning innocence as his eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Really?” you murmur, leaning forward, head tilting. “You forgot? Guess I’ll just forget to stay here tonight.”

You move to get off of his lap, but Caleb clicks his tongue, his arms tightening around you. You try again, but his hold is firm, preventing you from going anywhere other than staying in his lap.

“Thought you were my good girl,” Caleb sighs, dragging his lips across your jaw, trailing soft kisses over your skin. “I was only showing him who you really belonged to.”

“Belonged to?” you echo, hand cupping the back of his head to bare your neck to him when he kisses your neck. 

“Mhm,” he hums, lifting his head to peck your lips. You can’t help but lean into him, eyes fluttering as he brushes his thumbs over your cheeks gently, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Funny,” you breathe out, showing him your hand, “I don’t see a ring on my hand.”

Caleb pauses, his eyes widening for a moment before a smile spreads across his face, his head dipping to give you another kiss.

“I can do that,” he whispers against your lips. “You want a ring, sweetheart? I’ll give you one.”

“That’s not what I-” you begin exasperatedly, squeaking when Caleb grabs your chin, his mouth slotting over yours to kiss you heatedly, stopping you from speaking.

“So?” Caleb asks eagerly, “what do you want? A diamond? Personally, I think-”

“I am not marrying you,” you interrupt, pressing your hands against his chest to push him back. You bite your lip, averting your gaze, feeling a little shy. “...At least not right now, so- so shut up.”

“I’ll marry you eventually,” Caleb murmurs, a smile spreading across his face, “been wanting to ever since we were kids.”

You groan, flopping away from him, burying your face into a pillow to hide your flustered expression.

“C’mere baby,” he coaxes, smiling against your cheek after he pulls you into his arms, letting you bury your face into his warm chest. “I love you.”

“You’re such a dick,” you mumble, peering up at him. You pout and Caleb grins, dropping a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, jerk.”

He runs his fingers through your hair, stroking gently as your eyes droop shut, lulled to sleep by the heat and comfort of his body, cocooned in Caleb’s affection - until he decides to ruin it with a thoughtful whisper that makes him sound entirely too pleased with what he’s managed to accomplish. 

“Guess you’re gonna have to send me the syllabus for that class after all.”

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

It's the last day of Fluffebruary. My heart. Today's fill is: Marriage Proposals. I do reference the fills for days one, thirteen, nineteen (sort of), twenty-three, and twenty-six in this one. MCU has nothing on me. There's also switching POV, which I note by doing two lines of dashes. Time jumps within the POV are marked by one line of dashes. You can also read this on AO3 here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

Buck ambushes Bobby when he gets out of the bathroom, because he’s been trying to get Bobby alone all day.

“I need your advice,” he begs, and Bobby turns toward him with an expectant look on his face. “Is it ethical for me to get my boyfriend really drunk so he doesn’t wake up when I try to measure his ring size?”

Bobby blinks at him and shifts his weight to put his hands on his hips, his body language radiating exasperation and paternal disappointment. “Kid, what the hell do you think my answer’s going to be?”

He winces. “That I should’ve asked Chimney if I wanted a ‘yes’?”

“Probably.” He smiles and reaches out to squeeze Buck’s shoulder, jostling him a bit. “I’m happy for you two.”

“Thanks,” Buck says, smiling and finally not feeling like he’s going to shake out of his skin for the first time since he woke up that morning. “Any ideas?”

“You guys don’t have the same size hands?”

Buck flushes. “No, ah—his are a little bigger. Broader. His fingers are—I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed how big they are.”

Bobby raises an eyebrow, his hand retreating from Buck’s shoulder. “Can’t say I have.”

“Really? It’s, like, the second thing I noticed about him,” Buck says incredulously, and Bobby’s other eyebrow goes up. “Right. Okay, yeah. Straight guys don’t usually notice other guys’ hands.”

“Not unless I need to,” Bobby confirms. “Notice anyone else’s hands that might be the same size?”

Buck thinks about it for a moment and then it hits him. “Actually, yeah. I think I have. Thanks, Bobby.”

“Anytime, kid. Good luck. Let me know if you need anything,” he says, turning and wisely exiting the situation. Buck probably shouldn’t have gotten all gooey about how big Tommy’s hands are. To be fair, they're big and his fingers are thick.

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling out his phone.

Well, he might as well get a reference photo while he’s at it.

–

Sal slides into the booth across from him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Buck drops the beer mat he’s been playing with and looks around to make sure no one’s listening before leaning in. “What’s your ring size?”

He smirks and lifts his beer to his lips. “Why, Buckley, you know I’m a married man. You willing to fight it out with Gina or is this a side-piece situation?”

“Shut up,” Buck groans, sitting back as Sal cackles. “Also, Gina would gut me.”

“And dump you in a river,” Sal confirms. “You trying to make an honest man of our Tommy?”

Buck flushes and shrugs, picking up the beer mat again and running his finger along the edge. “Hoping to.”

“Good for you, kid. Thirteen and a half.” Buck’s head snaps up, and Sal’s got a real, genuine smile on his face. “But you can get ‘em resized pretty easy. What's yours?”

“E-eleven, I think?” he guesses, trying to remember the last time he'd looked. “Maybe a ten and a half. I don't really wear rings.”

Sal grins and holds out his beer. “Better get used to it.”

Buck feels a smile creep across his face and sighs, lifting his own beer to tap against Sal’s. “Hopefully.”

“I think you'll be okay.”

–

–

“Ten and a half,” Sal says, dropping onto Tommy's couch.

“What?” Tommy asks from where he's trying to get a pebble out of the tread of his boots.

“His ring size. Ten and a half, maybe eleven.” He puts his socked feet up on the coffee table and shrugs. “I'd go with eleven, it's easier to size down.”

The knife he's using slips and almost slices across Tommy's hand. “What? How—how?”

Sal smirks. “I have my ways.”

Tommy drops the boot and sits back on his heels with a heavy sigh. “Okay. So—I’m doing this. Am I really doing this? It feels soon, right?”

“Couldn't tell you. But from where I'm sitting,” he says, sweeping his hand across to gesture at the living room or maybe the house or just Tommy's entire life, “you two built something together. Just keep building. We don't usually get to live too long—if it's not a fire, it's a building falling on you or a bolt of lightning or cancer. And you're already middle-aged, Maso. You got your boy, he's not going anywhere. Just put it on paper.”

“You're right.” Tommy stands and shakes out the tingling that’s settling into his hands. “Thanks.”

“‘S why I’m here,” Sal says, crossing his arms over his chest. “And the free booze.”

Tommy snorts. “You thought it was free? Buddy, your tab’s been running for years. I’ll finally be able to pay off the mortgage when you settle up.”

Sal looks offended at that. “Hey, just for that, find a new best man.”

“I didn’t ask,” Tommy points out.

“Who the hell else you gonna ask?” Sal shoots back, getting to his feet. “Your other best friend?”

Sal comes around the table and engulfs him in a tight, back-slapping hug, which just turns into a hug.

“Thanks again,” Tommy says as they pull apart.

“Love you, brother,” he says, holding his face and pressing a smacking kiss to his cheek. He reminds Tommy of his Prozio Aldo so much sometimes, especially when he does shit like that. “Let’s go cut down a tree.”

“We’re just trimming it,” Tommy reminds him.

“Uh-huh.” Sal steps around him to grab his boots and starts walking toward the back of the house. “You say that now, but wait ‘til I get a few more in me. You’ll be lucky to have a yard by the time I’m done.”

–

He’s pacing outside the station until he hears Maddie call his name, and he whirls around to see her approaching with a tray of something. They’re doing a late holiday potluck, having passed Christmas and New Year’s, and Tommy had made sure she would be coming.

“Hey!” he says, folding her into a side-hug before taking the tray from her. “Can we, uh, hang out here for a second? Just waiting for Bobby and Athena.”

Maddie’s brows pinch together for a moment. “Sure. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, realizing he probably looks like he’s going to pass out. “Yeah, I promise.”

Bobby steps around the corner, glancing over his shoulder, Athena close behind. “Hey. Sorry, kid’s trying to get my damn dry rub recipe again and keeps cornering me. What’s going on?”

Tommy looks between their expectant faces and wants to dive head-first into whatever Maddie’s brought, which smells like it could be something with apples and brown sugar. “I wanted to ask you guys something. I kind of thought maybe Howie should be here, but he can’t keep a secret at all.”

“He can’t,” the three agree in unison.

He exhales slowly, realizing he’s been barely breathing for the last few minutes. “I wanted to ask you guys something—”

“You already said that,” Bobby points out, and Athena elbows him.

“I know it’s old-fashioned,” he admits. “And kind of backwards, because it’s really his decision, not yours, but you guys are his family. But I am kind of old-fashioned, I guess.”

“Tommy,” Athena says firmly, catching his eye. “Ask us.”

He swallows and looks at the tray and then back at them. “Can I maybe have your blessing to—to ask Evan to marry me?”

Maddie’s hands go to her mouth as she lets out a gasp, and Bobby’s looking at him with a wide, knowing smile. Athena looks proud, probably having sussed him out the second he walked into the station earlier.

“Yes!” Maddie squeals, hugging him around his middle and almost upending the tray. “Yes, absolutely a yes.”

“Yeah,” Bobby agrees, and Athena nods.

“What’d you think we were gonna say?” she asks, and Tommy shrugs helplessly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks, letting Maddie take the tray back from him.

“Oh, absolutely,” Bobby says, pulling him into a hug. “I think you’ll be fine.”

–

–

It’s been almost a year since they got back together. Buck doesn’t want to do anything too big, because then too many things can go wrong and there’s all the added pressure. He’s heard horror stories from people who got proposed to in big, public settings who felt obligated to say yes. He won’t do that to Tommy. Tommy melts under romantic gestures, but actually important moments tend to be smaller and quieter. They’d gotten back together in the privacy of a cockpit, they’d agreed to move in together while they were wrapped up in each other on a picnic blanket, they’d talked about marriage and kids in the privacy of their own house and cars and in corners at parties. He’s got no problem screaming how much he loves Tommy from the rooftops, but some stuff is theirs.

He asks Tommy if he wants anything particular for dinner, and Tommy surprises him by saying Miceli’s.

“You really want to risk it?” Buck teases.

“Hey, I like their food,” Tommy protests.

Buck nods. “It’s good. Good enough to risk us breaking up a third time, though?”

Tommy crowds him up against the bathroom counter and wraps an arm around his waist. “You really think I’d let you go again?”

The casual possessiveness does things to Buck, and he shakes his head, swallowing hard as his eyes flick down to Tommy’s lips. “Seven?”

“Six,” Tommy says, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his throat. “I want to get home early.”

Buck shivers, and then he’s leaning against the bathroom counter alone.

“See you tonight, sweetheart.”

He licks his lips and nods. “See you. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Tommy replies, swooping back in for a quick kiss that turns into a long kiss until Tommy pulls his head back with a gasp. “Eddie’s gonna kill me if I flake on him.”

Buck finally releases his boyfriend and waits for him to leave their room and then listens for the sound of the garage door opening. When he’s sure he’s alone in the house, he goes to his duffel bag and digs down until he comes up with a drawstring bag containing a ring box.

“Alright, don’t Buck this up,” he mutters, kissing the box and shoving it in his pocket.

–

–

Tommy is going to have a fucking heart attack. He feels like he needs Valium on an IV drip. He and Eddie are skipping basketball so he can pick up the ring, because Tommy had been too nervous to keep it anywhere Evan could find it.

When he finally has the small bag in his hands, he climbs into Eddie’s truck and has to do box breathing so he won’t pass out.

“Dude, you flew into a hurricane,” Eddie reminds him.

“Uh-huh.”

“People used to shoot at you.”

“Yep.”

Eddie looks at the bag and then at Tommy’s face. “I mean, I get it, but maybe you should chill for a bit before we go to the next stop.”

They’re getting Tommy a new suit, because he has two, and one of them was worn to a cowboy’s funeral and the other one was worn to Maddie and Howie’s reception/anniversary party. Evan’s seen him in both of them, he needs a new one. He’s picked that out also and had to get it altered, because he always has to get suits altered or they hang on him weird.

“No, we gotta go,” Tommy says, trying to relax. “Let’s go.”

–

–

Tommy looks good. Tommy always looks good, but Buck loves seeing him in a suit. He’d loved getting him out of the last one he saw him in, he’s definitely going to love getting him out of this one. It’s simple—black jacket, trousers, and tie with a white shirt—but it’s form-fitting and makes him look like James Bond. He’s glad they’d joked about dressing like they were going to a Michelin-star restaurant, because this is a good look for Tommy.

Buck’s skipped the tie, going for a burgundy suit with a white shirt that Hen had helped him pick out. The shirt has a high collar with no lapels that he’s never worn before and doesn’t use a tie, but it’s also a little tight. Buck hopes he doesn’t somehow stop breathing. Wouldn’t be the first time on a date, and it would suck if it happened on this particular one.

“Look at you,” Tommy murmurs, slipping his arm around Buck’s waist under his suit jacket. “Wanna stay in and fool around instead?”

“Not a chance,” Buck teases, drawing Tommy into a toe-curling kiss. “I wanna show you off.”

–

They Uber to the restaurant, since Buck is too nervous to drive and Tommy says he didn’t get enough sleep. They also want to drink a bit, though Buck’s going to take it slow until he has something to celebrate or needs to soften a rejection.

Their table is a little toward the back, and it’s quiet near them with no one immediately nearby. It’s perfect.

They make it through most of a pitcher of beer and their entrees, and Buck starts to feel like it all might come back up. He taps rhythmically against his knee to ground himself and keep himself from just bursting out everything he’s thinking.

“Hey,” he says, and Tommy looks up from the dessert menu, as though he doesn’t already have it memorized, “so I’ve been thinking about some stuff. Nothing bad, I promise. It’s, uh, good, actually? I think. I hope.”

Tommy sets the menu down and looks pleasantly confused. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great,” he says, grinning and leaning in a bit, drawn to Tommy always. “I’ve just—there’s so much stuff in our lives that’s unpredictable, you know? Especially with what we do. We talked about this a while ago, I don’t know if you remember? The whole ‘safe haven’ thing.”

“Of course I remember,” Tommy says, smiling and reaching across to take Buck’s hand.

“Good,” Buck says, turning his hand over and wrapping his fingers around Tommy’s. “I’ve thought about it a lot. You’re this steadying force in my life, this thing I’ve been looking for since I can remember. Most of my days are unpredictable, some of them are terrible, and I have an eye in that storm and it’s you. You give me peace and love and comfort. You’re the calm and the safety that I’ve been looking for every single day of my life.”

Tommy’s face softens. “Evan, you’re that for me, too. You’re more than I ever knew to look for. God, I couldn’t have dreamed I’d ever meet someone like you, let alone be lucky enough to love you and be loved by you.”

Buck’s heart starts racing in his chest, because it’s time, and he pushes his chair back so he can get up and come around to Tommy, who looks thrown.

–

–

Evan is standing next to him and Tommy wants to grab him and put him back on his chair, but when he starts to rise, Evan’s hand presses on his shoulder.

“Just—I don’t know what else to say here,” Evan says, reaching into his pocket and lowering himself onto one knee. “I just want to know if you’ll marry me, Tommy.”

That—that’s his line.

Tommy feels like the air’s been vacuumed out of his lungs, and he doesn’t think he has hands anymore. Or feet. The top half of his head might be gone, too.

“Oh–I—oh,” he gasps when Evan opens the ring box he’s holding. His hands are shaking when he does it. “I—Evan.”

He pushes his chair back and reaches into the pocket of his own trousers before kneeling in the cramped space between this side of the table and the wall. Evan’s eyes are teary and a little confused, and then Tommy holds up his own box, opening it to reveal the ring.

“Will you marry me?” he asks, and Evan’s face crumples before he claps his free hand over his mouth to hold back a noise Tommy’s never heard him make. It’s like a laugh, a cry, and a sob all at once. Tommy's own eyes start to flood with tears even though he's also laughing, because this is ridiculous.

They grasp each other’s faces and laugh and kiss, and then they’re hugging. There’s noise near them—clapping?—and Tommy presses his nose to Evan’s jaw.

“That was a ‘yes,’ by the way,” he whispers, and Evan laughs against his shoulder.

–

–

He didn’t know. He’d been so focused on his own anxiety that he hadn’t noticed Tommy’s. But there’s a ring on Buck’s finger, and he can’t stop staring at it or the one on Tommy’s.

“How’d you get my ring size?” Tommy asks.

“Sal,” Buck replies, and Tommy laughs. “What?”

“That’s how I got yours.”

Buck remembers Sal asking him, hadn’t thought much of it because it was relevant to the conversation, and laughs. “God, he’s going to be—”

“Insufferable.”

“—the worst,” Buck agrees.

Tommy brushes his thumb over Buck’s ring and smiles. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked your sister, Bobby, and Athena for their blessing. I asked Howie earlier this week.”

Buck bites his lip and leans in to prop his chin on his free hand. “I asked Bobby if it was unethical to get you drunk so I could measure your finger.”

“It is,” Tommy says, rolling his eyes when Buck shrugs. “But—so everyone knew?”

“Yep.”

“And they still let us—”

“Yep.”

Tommy huffs out a laugh. “Bastards.”

Buck tugs his hand close so he can kiss his knuckles. “Let’s go home.”

Their server appears a few moments later when Tommy flags her down, and she places a bag on the table with a smile.

“Your desserts—packaged to go and on the house. There’s some extras in there, too,” she says, stepping back. “And your dinner was paid for by another patron. Have a great night, guys, and congratulations.”

Someone had already sent them a video and someone else sent photos via AirDrop, and Buck twists around to see if he can figure out who paid. The people who had sent the pictures and video were gone. No one else is paying them any particular attention.

It’s outside, they’re standing in the same spots they had almost two years before, but Buck has his arms around Tommy’s waist this time. This time, they have rings on their fingers, and they’re getting into the same car and going to their home. Where he imagines they’ll have intense celebratory sex followed by celebratory desserts eaten out of take-out containers while they drape themselves over their couch in their underwear.

“C’mere,” Tommy says, holding up his phone.

Buck smiles for the photo, holding up his left hand alongside Tommy’s.

–

–

In the Uber, Tommy sends the photo to the ‘Fire Family’ group chat with the message: We said yes!

There’s a flurry of emojis and congratulatory messages and questions about when the wedding is. He turns the screen off on his phone and links his hand with his fiancé’s on the middle seat.

“Think we can plan a wedding in under a year?” he asks.

Evan scoffs. “Give me a clipboard and a budget, we’ll be married in six months.”

Tommy smiles and leans over to kiss his cheek. “The sooner the better.”

“In a rush?” Evan teases, smiling at him in the dim light.

“To spend the rest of my life as your husband? A little. Kind of wish I could’ve done it a long time ago. Like, years ago, even though I didn’t know you then,” he admits, and Evan smiles, making a soft noise. “Hm?”

“Something Hen said,” Evan says, shaking his head. “‘You’ll go to bed and wake up every day wishing you’d found each other sooner. ‘Cause life is so damn good that everything before him felt like wasted time.’”

Tommy’s heart slams against his sternum. “Yeah.”

Evan lifts their hands to kiss the back of Tommy’s, tucking it against his cheek. “She said that, and I knew I was going to marry you. I didn’t hope I’d do it or think I’d do it. I knew.”

“I was sitting in a park and had just asked you to move in with me, and I knew I’d have eloped with you that day if you asked.”

“So about three weeks after I talked to Hen.” Evan chuckles and turns his head to kiss his hand again before lowering their hands back onto the seat. “You ever think we’re meant to be sometimes?”

“Sometimes,” Tommy agrees lightly, and it’s his turn to kiss Evan’s hand, his lips landing right next to his ring.

[trashmouth-richie]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ eddie x female reader | casual? yeah, casual | 18+ smut

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ grocery store coworkers au where eddie and reader meet, become friends and it’s casual…so very casual. a kiss, a high feel up, shared cigarettes and christmas presents? casual very very casual….

You spent well over an hour primping and fussing over your hair. Hunched over in your tiny vanity mirror meticulously plucking your eyebrows, and smudging the perfect amount of eyeliner on your eyes for tonight. 

Tonight... the night that you had a real date with Eddie. 

The two of you had been seeing each other casually. A single kiss after a night of beer and darts with his friends, an occasional feel up over clothes behind the dumpster when you were both really horny after smoking a joint during your break at the grocery store.

But other than those two.. maybe three, minor.. teeny tiny little hookups, you and Eddie had never truly been on a date. 

You told him you didn’t care, that what you had now was fine, that you were both still getting over bad relationships. Him with Chrissy and you with Billy. After all that’s how you got close to begin with. 

A smoke break during a late night stock shift, you might have been a little too vulnerable, might have been the raging hormones from your monthly visit, but all it took for the tears to start was unloading cases of Billy’s favorite beer and you were losing it. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go take my break..” Eddie announced cigarette already in his mouth as he leaned into the cooler, “whoa, you okay?”

You looked at him with tear stained cheeks and wet lashes, “huh? no mm fine.”

Eddie knew better. He comforted you after dragging you up to the roof, and waited in silence for you to tell him what happened. 

He nodded along as you told him everything Billy had done, the yelling, the screaming, the fighting. Punched holes in doors and finally a bruise on your cheek that made you pack up and leave him for good. 

You cried and wept into his shoulder as he rubbed your back. He was quiet for a while, and you started to apologize for ruining his break, he opened up about his own bad luck. He said that he had been single for over a year and he still couldn’t get over his ex. That he found her screwing around on him in their bed when he came home from work. 

“So we’re both running away from something, huh?” 

“Oh no, I sprinted.” You both laugh and you wipe your nose with the back of your hand.

And from that night of spillage of guts and admissions of not being okay— you and Eddie grew to more than coworkers at a barely-making-minimum-wage grocery store. 

He started showing you his favorite music, and you showed him your favorite movies. Casual. Casual. Casual. 

Sharing cigarettes and salty chips on lunch, casual. Rubbing vaseline on Eddie’s chapped lips because he refused to own a tube of chapstick, casuaaaal. 

Silly Christmas presents of a more ‘manly’ solution for chapped lips being a small jar of carmex from checkout aisle 8. He had gotten you a copy of his favorite tape, and a handwritten coupon for a free oil change in exchange for a container of those oatmeal chocolate chip cookies you had brought for the potluck last month. Casual with a capital ‘C’. 

It was a laid-back, more than friends but not dating, sort of ‘thing’ you had with him, and you were comfortable with that. 

But tonight was not casual, tonight was it. He asked in his nonchalant sort of ‘Eddie charm’ way, coming up behind you while you mopped up a mess of spilled milk. 

Wanna go for pizza? 

Sure, when?

Tomorrow night. 

Alright sounds good, I’ll ask Dustin if he wants to go. 

No, be ready at 6 o’clock, I’ll pick you up for our date. 

Date?

Date. 

That’s all he had said before shooting you a wink and walking away, whistling. 

The tables were turning on this whole ‘casual’ thing and 

your stomach flipped with excitement at the thought of it. 

Sonny’s Pizza Parlor was hardly a fancy dive but you could care less. When Eddie came to pick you up, he knocked on the door wearing his black leather jacket and a light wash of denim jeans, his eyes went wide when he saw you in a simple yet attractive, black denim skirt and silky scarlet blouse. 

“Wow,” he blushed, “look at you.” 

“ ‘s too much isn’t it? I can change.” 

Eddie held your wrist as you tried to turn back into your house to put on something a little more relaxed. 

“No no no, you look beautiful,” he said, his dark eyes full of hunger “seriously I— damn, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks heat and he leads you to the van, hand in yours, his thumb rubbing your knuckles, letting go to open your door, but lacing your fingers together once he started driving. 

The pizza was good, and the beer even better. The conversation was always easy with Eddie and tonight it wasn’t any different, but you noticed his cheeks burning bright and his lips seemed to be soft despite him licking them, like he had actually been using the carmex you had gotten him. 

Something about the way the red lamp shade from the overhead light looked on Eddie’s hair made him look almost ethereal. As if you had been wearing a dark shade of glasses before, and tonight was the first time you had actually gotten to look at him. 

He popped his thumb into his mouth to lick off a dollop of pizza sauce and cheese grease and you nearly climbed across the table to suck it clean for him. The corners of his mouth were begging for your lips, your tongue. His neck held muscles you weren’t aware one could have. And you watched with wet panties as he swallowed each slug of beer. Your pussy bobbing and pulsing along with his throat. 

You were affecting him the same way. 

When the atmosphere in the parlor got humid and you grabbed a menu to fan your face, Eddie watched with drool pooling on his tongue as your blouse fanned open just a tiny bit. Showing a peek of cleavage from a valley of tits he had only felt through a collared work shirt when he was stoned. 

He adjusted himself as discreetly as he could in a tight pair of jeans. Flipping his aching cock up into his waistband, nearly coming when you perched your lips into a soft ‘o’ to blow on a piece of pizza. Jesus Christ. Time to leave. 

It was early when you stepped into the fresh air outside of Sonny’s. Eddie paid before the waitress could hand him the bill, and you were thankful, even more thankful that you were wearing black so the little spot you’re sure you left on the chair was covered up. 

Casual was out of the window. Gone gone gone. 

Eddie didn’t play any music on the way back to your place and honestly the tempo of any sort of music would have your already hard nipples ripping through your shirt. You had never been this worked up before. Not with Billy, not with anyone. 

And Eddie was the same. 

Small talk was non-existent as he pulled behind your car in your driveway. But he let you decide how the night went as you practically drug him inside. Thank God your bedroom was on the main floor, thank God you didn’t have a roommate or anything to trip over because once you both crossed over your welcome mat, your needy hands were on each other like magnets. 

“Eddie,” you purred as his eager mouth left your lips stinging and buzzing to kiss the juncture of your neck, “fuck.” 

“Yeah?” He choked out against the column of your throat, hoisting you up in his arms as you maneuvered your skirt higher, pressing you flush against your front door, “Like that? Didn’t think I’d make it through dinner, so fuckin’ pretty.” 

“Should have done this sooner,” you breathe between silky sweet moans, “needed you sooner, but now is good, now is.. now is great.” 

He laughs at the base of your throat before sucking gently, adding his teeth like he was sucking juice from a peach. “been wanting you for a long time baby.” 

You’re clawing at his shoulders to shove his leather jacket off, your mouths stay connected as he starts to work the buttons on your blouse carefully. “How much do you like this?” 

“Like what?” you ask in a blissed out haze from the taste of Eddie’s lips on your tongue. “You? What you’re doing to me? Yeah I like it a—”

“No, this…your shirt— fuck it, I’ll buy you a new one.” with one harsh yank, Eddie rips your top open, buttons scattering and pinging all over the floor like a Yahtzee game. 

He looks at you for any fear of being too much but you are just as hungry for him as he is you. 

The pair of you stumble to the bedroom— because that’s exactly what it was, there wasn’t any grace in the way you were trying to unthread Eddie’s jeans and simultaneously get that goddamn jacket off. Your shirt is discarded somewhere on the back of the couch, or the shoe rack, you didn’t really look at where you had tossed it. 

He peels your little pointed toe boots from your feet and nearly trips over them and his own before going into what he thought was your room but was the enclosed back porch. 

Eddie laughs into your chest as you point him towards your bedroom like a captain at sea. Your bed is made for the first time ever, dresser drawers are shut properly. You’re sure he wouldn’t care about the mess that is your sock drawer inhabiting mostly mismatched pairs and holey singles that you just can’t convince yourself to throw away.

You wiggle down from him to finish your attempt at unbuttoning his Levi’s. When you were both high and feeling eachother up it was only over clothing but you still remember the girth he housed in those boxers and the solid feel of his chest beneath your fingertips. 

“Eddie, holy hell,” you squeal, with wide eyes. He’s tangled behind his shirt and you work his boxer briefs down to his ankles, “you just carry this thing around all day?!” 

“What,” he asks after nearly suffocating in his crisp white shirt, his hair staticky and a mess, “my dick?”

Your hand wraps around him and gently tugs and jerks his velvet skin, your thumb brushing over his head and painting his precum all over it. “Yeah, your dick, wow.” 

He’s groaning and grabs your elbow to stop you, “d- shiiit, don’t, mmm, don’t do that, I’ll fill your hand in about 3 seconds.” 

“Noted,” you say with a wicked flash of your teeth, as you unhook your bra and let it fall. 

“Baby, baby, baby…” he moans, placing his hands on each boob to act as a holder, “these are fuckin’ perfect, skirt off, now.” 

You spin so he can unzip you, taking the opportunity to rub the fat of your ass along his shaft, and he groans again, stopping to move your hair from your neck and kiss his way to your shoulder and back again. The skirt falls, revealing a tight pair of cheeky lavender silk panties, a matching set to your bra. 

Eddie smiles wolfishly as you turn your head to catch his reaction, he licks his lips as you playfully bite your finger, “these stay on.” 

Liplocked, the two of you make it to the center of your bed. Before you can even reach for him Eddie has you on your back caging you in, a serious look on his face. “How long have we known each other?” 

“Seven… no eight months,” you pant beneath him, “but does it really matter at this point? We’re both naked.” 

“Yeah,” he admits, kissing your sternum and lightly licking, “You’re right, it doesn’t…yet it does.” He keeps his mouth on your skin, kissing and sucking and biting and teasing over each of your breasts, loving your little noises. 

“I want you to know I’ve wanted you for seven or eight months, but I knew you weren’t ready for me, or for this.”

You want to object, want to tell him he’s wrong and that you could’ve been fooling around for those months but he cuts you off before you could even begin. 

“You weren’t baby, and that’s okay. I waited, patiently. Well— not counting the time on break where we felt each other up like teenagers,” you both laugh lightheartedly but he continues, making a snail trail of his tongue down your body. “The thing is, I would wait for you seven or eight more months if that’s what you needed from me, I’d put on my clothes right now and leave if you told me too.”

You’re leaning up now on your elbows, watching his dark hair form a curtain around your body as he keeps going lower. 

“I know you didn’t think I knew, but before that night on the roof I could hear you crying in the cooler, or in the mop closet, and I wanted to tell you so bad that I wanted you, and how much I wanted ro wipe those tears away. I seriously considered finding whatever prison Billy is currently in and beating the shit out of him.” 

“Oh Eddie—”

“I would, but anyway, I want you. Tonight, tomorrow, as long as you’ll have me, and I promise that you’ll never cry behind a closed door while on the clock because of me.”

He sits up then, right above your clothed pussy, “no more casual?” he asks, eyes bleeding into yours, his mouth hovering over your aching core. 

Godddd this man. This perfect fucking guy who worked a dorky ass job just like you, who you could laugh with and joke around even minutes from fucking. You weren’t ready when you met, weren’t ready even a few weeks ago, but now… here with him, you’ve never been more ready for this.

“No more casual,” you whisper, keeping your eyes on him and lacing your fingers with his the little bit you could, “I just want you Eddie, only you.” 

That devil smile appears again and your body flushes with heat allover, “good girl.” 

With that he dribbles a long wet line of spit into your already soaked panties and lowers his mouth. You moan his name and he pins your canting hips in place. He runs his tongue up and down your clothed slit, smearing the wetness around and groaning when you inch your pussy closer to his mouth. 

“Mine mine mine,” Eddie moans repeatedly as his nose, lips and tongue all devour you, rubbing until your left soaked and on the verge of tears from being overstimulated. 

“Please,” you whimper, “I can’t, I can’t.” 

Eddie keeps it up, locking you down in place until your panties are wringing wet, nearly drenching your sheets. He sits up on his knees and you know it’s coming, finally, fucking finally. 

But then the rubbing continues, and you groan audibly almost pouting because all you want is to feel him inside of you. 

“Eddie, please please..” you’re babbling and it’s not even making sense, but he’s smiling stupid as his cock slides between your puffy clothed lips. 

He’s teased and taunted you enough and you’re about to tackle him to the floor and take what he’s trying to hold from you. You’re huffing in pouty annoyance and he finally gives up this game, a smile on his face that he can’t even begin to hide. 

Yanking your wrecked underwear to the side Eddie slides into your weeping pussy. Your room is filled with heated moans and slapping skin, “Jesus Christ, you’re tight.” 

Your breath is ragged when he moves and he makes sure you’re okay, peppering kisses on your knee as he pulls your leg over his shoulder. You grapple for any bit of him you can reach, settling for his hips when he releases your leg and balances his arms around your body. 

Eddie kisses you softly and rolls his hips, “you’re perfect, fuck— so so beautiful.” His lips feel like satin, that carmex really doing its job and you giggle at the thought of him applying it tonight in hopes the date would end up like this. 

The coil inside of you is ready to spring after a long drag of his cock out and your finger rubbing your clit. “m’ close.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie breathes, his hips pistoning faster, his thrusts getting sloppy, “cum for me, cum all over me.” 

You release and cry out, moaning between closed lips, your legs shaking involuntary. Eddie isn’t far behind you, kissing your neck and speaking nonsense as he pumps you full. “Shit, oh fuuuck.”

He’s out of breath and laying on top of you, his breath fanning your skin as you run your fingernails up and down his back, tickling his skin and twirling the ends of his hair between your fingers as he softens inside of you. 

Sleep washes over the both of you, and when you wake Eddie is holding you close to his chest. His lips are pressed into your hairline, arms cocooned around you like you might float away if he didn’t hold you so tightly. 

You revel in it. looking up at his sleeping form, his tattoos that wrap from his shoulders to around his ribs. He was everything and more compared to Billy. 

Where Billy was rough in bed, taking and never giving—Eddie was a giver. So much so that you wondered if his knees hurt from kneeling in the shower while he ate you out until the water went cold and you had come twice on his tongue. 

Showering at three in the morning turned out to be the best idea you had ever came up with. You washed his hair, and braided it while the leave-in conditioner sat for the suggested fifteen minutes. 

Laying side by side, he told you about his family when you asked, because you realized you really didn’t know because he never talked about them. Eddie learned that you snore, just a tiny bit, a little nasally sound that stopped once he held you close to his chest. 

The night and early morning was spent just like that, talking about the things neither of you shared with anyone else. And it was perfect. 

—

Eddie wakes to a sweet voice in his ear, a gentle kiss to his neck. “Good Morning handsome,” you whisper to him, silently adoring the way he’s curled in around your pillows, “are you hungry?” 

He smiles, knowing exactly where he was and the voice of the girl who stole his heart nearly eight months ago. “‘m starving.” Wrapping you in a hug he pulls you back to bed with him. Kissing your lips, your cheeks, your neck, tickling your sides. 

Opening his eyes when he has you pinned down he licks his lip, “is that syrup? Or are you really just that sweet?” 

“Pancakes. Eggs. Sausage patties. I made them all hoping you’d like one of them.” 

Eddie grins, kissing you slow and deep, his tongue sweeping over yours in a passionate grace. “You know what they say, you make a hungry man a meal and he’ll never leave.” 

He was it for you. Stars aligning just right for the first time, and damn it felt good to be lucky for once. 

“Good,” you say back, kissing him quick and biting his lip, “because casual really isn’t my thing.” 

thanks for reading ♥️

all time tag list: @bastardstevie @dashingdeb16 @lexr86 @pretendthisnameisclever @what-the-jams

@littlebibibliophile @kellsck @emxxblog

[bloggerspam]

So @deathlysilent13 and @lokiitama have cursed me again. I did some lore rambling previously, which will sort of be incorporated but--anyway.

The point is the lore i've spilled/discussed before will not be entirely gospel. It's a semi-developed story in my head now because of the HHD server. Curse you, deathly and loki. CURSE YOU ALL WHO ENCOURAGED THIS.

===

Danny was dreaming again.

It was an odd dream. An impossible dream.

A dream that didn't make sense, even as a dream.

Danny dreamed about being born alone in the world.

He blinked his eyes open in the midst of bright blue, took his first breath in liquid air, and the first cognizant thought he had wasn't even a thought.

It was the feeling of being choked by a tube, with wires wrapping around him as he sluggishly moved about.

Around him, there was the feel of metal, curved around him like a cradle, oddly vertical, with a large glass window to close off the cylinder.

And then the window opened and the floor was hard and cold, his lungs were burning as he hacked up the tube and liquid and breathing in air—

And when he blinked open his eyes again, his breaths were mirrored across from him, and there was another boy.

And then Danny wasn't alone anymore.

"Danny!" Danny startles awake amidst the action of reaching out towards the mysterious boy no older than 4 years old and looking strangely familiar. "Danny! You're going to be late!"

Danny brings his hand back, staring at it blearily for a moment before forming a fist and draping his arm over his eyes. His lungs expand harshly as his heartbeat starts to slow, cold sweet permeating his skin in a way that feels agonizing and minute—like he can feel each sweat drop forming.

Then the sound of pounding footsteps startles him to flip his blanket over as he brings his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up to rub at his face to dry and get the crusty traces of sleep off him. "I'm up! I'm up, alright Jazz? I'll be ready in a minute!"

Danny goes through his morning routine, getting ready for the big day. He and Jazz are heading out on a road trip towards New Jersey, traversing Pennsylvania from Amity Park all the way towards Jazz's chosen University: Gotham U.

It'll be the first time Danny will be away from Amity Park in all his 15 years.

His parents have always been protective of him, considering how accident prone he is, and they finally managed to convince them to let Danny join Jazz on a Summer roadtrip before he starts Junior year.

Val said she would cover the ghost menagerie, which shouldn't be hard now that he's gotten on better terms with his so-called rogues, and whilst he'll miss his friends, they've promised to text incessantly and send each other as many snaps as they can manage. Sam and Tuck will be on their own adventures anyway.

Danny's trying not to think about how this will also be the first time he'll be away from his friends.

When he heads downstairs for their last breakfast as a family, Mom and Dad are sitting on the sofa instead of the dining table.

"Mom? Dad?" Danny slows his descent downstairs, dropping his duffle bag off near the front door before cautiously making his way over. "What's going on?"

In the kitchen, Jazz is frantically making sandwiches to go, looking angry and nervous. When she catches his eyes she smiles at him gently, reassuring him that it isn't halfa-related. She's biting her lip though, which means their parents have dropped something serious on her shoulders and she's trying to keep it together until Danny is informed too.

"Danny, honey, there's something we've been meaning to tell you." Mom says, clutching one of Dad's giant hand in comfort. Danny has never seen her so nervous about something since…well, since she thought Danny was drifting away from her when he first got his powers.

"Okay…?" Danny looks towards Jazz again, who shakes her head and continues to pack food into a cooler bag. He sits himself gingerly down on the armchair beside his parents, feeling adrift and alone against their united front. Even Jazz, working silently behind them in the kitchen seems to blend into the tableau.

Mom takes a deep breath, sharing a look with Dad and trying several times to say something and failing. Dad rubs her back gently, looking increasingly like he might explode.

Danny fidgets, worrying at a hangnail on his left hand—the scarred one, with the silvery lichtenberg pattern all over it.

Finally, Dad can't take it anymore. Instead of his usual booming voice though, Dad…well, Dad's voice is practically a whisper. Danny strains to hear what he's trying to say, so jarred that it takes a moment to really register what he's saying.

"Danno, you're adopted."

Tim has noticed something odd, about the Demon Brat.

Sometimes, the Demon Brat would look to his left, as if to start a conversation, or as if anticipating someone saying something, only to freeze. Just for a moment, a half second, because nobody was there, before looking away with painful expression. 

Months later, Tim decided to stand there, just to see what would happen. The brat didn’t look at him once, and Tim found that curious, and odd.

Another odd thing about his new, murderous brother, is that he refuses to look into the mirror. That’s not true, exactly: he would look in the mirror for basics, for necessities. 

Tim realized, months of observations later, that the brat didn’t look himself in the eyes. 

Strange. 

Tim had asked him, once, why he didn’t. As expected, all he got was a “It’s none of your business Drake.”

But that didn’t stop Tim from wondering. Tim is, if nothing else, curious to a fault and persistent to an illegal degree. 

And so the strangeness would continue, and Tim would wonder.  

The brat would look to his left, pause, and then look away. He would deftly avoid mirrors, and when asked why he would sneer and avoid those questions, too. 

Until he didn’t. 

Until he came back to the Cave battered and beaten, some dreary autumn day, the Demon Brat unusually sullen and quiet and off his game. He had sat through the lecture Bruce had given him, and sat through the quiet reaching out from Dick, and sat through the cajoling teasing meant to rile him up, to get him to say or do anything per the norm, with an unusual aplomb.

The brat apologized, said he was fine, and ignored the rest. He told Bruce he wouldn’t patrol tomorrow, and would stay home from school, because clearly he wasn’t feeling well. 

 It was like Damian wasn’t there, fully. 

So when Tim saw that the brat’s door was open, the next day, he peeked in. 

Of course he did. 

And there the brat was, sitting in front of the full length mirror he usually had covered with a cloth when it wasn’t in use, reaching up and staring directly into his own reflection’s eyes. 

“Demon Brat?” Tim asked, stepping in and concerned about the look in the other’s face. There was no answer. 

“Damian. What’s wrong.” Tim stood behind the boy, watching as Damian touched the corner of his own reflection’s eye. 

“The color’s wrong, Drake.” Damian finally said, matter of fact and almost broken, absent-minded. 

“What?” Tim asked, trying to see what he was talking about. Nothing was wrong, nothing was changed. Damian met his eyes through the mirror for a long moment, but Tim didn’t understand. 

“The color.” Damian reiterated, looking at his own reflection again. 

“The color? Of what?” Tim and Damian were never close, not really, but he was starting to feel like something was slipping away, in this moment. Damian dropped his hand, and finally looked away. 

Without answering, the boy got up and carefully draped a cloth over the mirror, ushering Tim out of his room silent as the dead. 

“Leave me be for today, Drake.” Tim reached, opened his mouth to try and say something, because something was wrong, but what? 

But Damian simply shut the door softly. 

The sound of the lock engaging felt strangely, and utterly, final in a Manor full of lockpicking detectives.

Tim laid a hand on the door, and mourned. 

[01zfan]

bad friend: bestfriend’s sister

brothers bestfriend!sungchan x reader | 5.3k words

well...you guys know i couldn't end it without sungchan getting his lick back.

contains: eunseok and sungchan are in a war that hasn't been vocally waged, sungchan is kind of a manipulator, reader is semi-innocent, some sort of tension between sungchan and eunseok that neither of them acknowledge

bad friend: AITA

Sungchan was disappointed that it took him so long to figure out what to do. After he read Eunseok’s Reddit post he had to think, picking at the peeling skin of the vinyl seat he was in. 

He sat in the seat of the cafe closer to their apartment basking in rage while his bestfriend was unaffected. Eunseok barely looked up from his laptop, Sungchan imagined his friend was editing the post as he sat right across from him. He could see Eunseok mouthing words, repeating phrases back to himself before he could hear backspacing on his computer and some more typing. Sungchan felt his friend’s eyes occasionally lift to look at him, and when he would catch his eyes Eunseok would snap right back to his screen.

Sungchan could feel the atmosphere around them change, until Eunseok couldn’t bare it anymore and closed his laptop. Sungchan stared at the logo of Eunseok's laptop, thinking about the post that his friend was working on only moments ago.

“Are you ready to go back to the apartment?”

Eunseok hesitated with each movement. Sungchan was unbothered, stretching his back and arms until they rested on the vinyl seats again.

He couldn't lie and say he didn't enjoy seeing Eunseok uneasy from the tension. Asking about something as trivial as food left in their shared fridge made Eunseok finally drop that nonchalant act. The facade fell to show what Eunseok truly was, remorseful even if he tried to hide it and thinking about what he did to his alleged roommate and bestfriend.

Sungchan enjoyed seeing Eunseok uncomfortable, he hoped that it was guilt. Eunseok was so used to being the diplomat he didn’t know what to do when he was the one waging a war. Sungchan recalled the times Eunseok's easygoing attitude got him out of trouble while growing up. Eunseok asking Sungchan is it worth it? when he was about to lose his cool or telling him to calm down in that annoying monotone voice.

Sungchan could tell his friend didn’t know how to face a problem he created. Sungchan was sure the comments on whatever he was going to post would be telling him that he wasn’t the asshole. That's what losers on the Internet did. They convened in the dark corners, circle jerking and letting eachother know that even at their lowest they're justified. There would be someone like Sungchan, well adjusted and socialized telling him he should come clean. That he should tell Sungchan that he slept with his girlfriend. Sungchan even gave him the perfect segue into the conversation. All he had to do was come clean about the leftover food in the fridge. Sungchan would even let Eunseok lie, he could tell Sungchan that you came onto him, and he couldn't deny you. He could spare Sungchan the details because he read them already, he could just say that he wanted you to feel better.

Sungchan looked from the barista behind the counter back to Eunseok. He was taking too long to slip his laptop into the secure place in his backpack.

“My sister is coming over later today, by the way.” Eunseok was still looking into his backpack, speaking to it quietly. “Some mail still ends up going to my parents house for some reason. So she’s bringing it to me. She might bring some food too.” He added.

Food was always the olive branch extended between the two of them. When Sungchan was invited to that birthday party in elementary school and Eunseok wasn't he brought him vegetable dumplings from the convenience store. When Eunseok beat Sungchan at the schools spelling bee they ate samgyeopsal until Sungchan thought his stomach would explode. Food was always how they silently told eachother the other went too far without directly saying it, and each time it worked. The resentment that built up over the twenty years of friendship was in no way related to the fact they never actually talked about their problems. That was something that couldn't be explained, or maybe Eunseok could ask a fucking sub-reddit about it.

But what was important was that Eunseok was offering another olive branch. Although Eunseok nodded his head, Sungchan barely listened to the rest of Eunseok’s mumble, they were going to be even. Eunseok was talking about the mail that ended up at his parents house, or something about the coffee here, but Sungchan couldn't be bothered. Revenge walked into his lap, mentioned candidly while Eunseok tried hard to push past the uneasy feeling in his heart.

When Eunseok finally looked up from his backpack to look at Sungchan, he had already honed his emotions and changed the expression on his face to something neutral.

“I didn’t know your sister was coming over.” Sungchan tried remembering what you were doing with your life now. Your brother rarely mentioned you for some reason. You were just a contact on Eunseok’s phone that would call when you had a question about your computer and an old contact photo in his family’s groupchat. “Is she back in town?” He asked.

After Sungchan asked his question Eunseok had the nerve to side eye him from his backpack. As if Eunseok wasn’t the one who fucked his bestfriends girlfriend then was going on the Internet to garner sympathy. He looked at Sungchan like he was the crazy one for asking about your life.

“Only for a month or so." Eunseok stood up from his recliner and Sungchan followed suit. "She's staying in town for a friend's wedding or something.”

Sungchan could tell that Eunseok really wanted to repeat what he told him all those years ago. Back when the three of you became young adults and Sungchan stopped looking at you like you were Eunseok’s little sister.

Eunseok caught on fast, but you were more like Sungchan when it came to hiding things. All cards were on the table, you couldn’t hide your adoration for your older brother's bestfriend.

In the beginning Eunseok and Sungchan just chalked it up to you wanting to know how boys had fun. When he would complain about you suddenly taking an interest in video games or action figures your mother always told Eunseok to let you play. When he was still young and hardheaded he would protest, saying you were a girl and his sister and he didn't want to play with you. But when you wouldn't budge and neither were his parents, Eunseok was forced to become indifferent.

He had to be indifferent about your presence because his parents would always take your side. Sometime during that, Eunseok became indifferent to you as a whole. He never wanted the responsibilities of an older brother so he nevver doted on you or was protective.

Sungchan noticed that you two never became close. Even when you got older and started to become your own person, Eunseok was unconcerned with what was going on in your life. Sungchan watched you both separately behave like only children, living under the same roof but never having conversations that went beyond telling the other that dinner was ready. 

Eunseok would never admit that you were closer to Sungchan than you were to him, that you favored being around him. There are pictures of you hanging on the wall at Eunseok's parents' place. An old digital picture at Sungchan and Eunseok's soccer game, clinging to Sungchan instead of your brother. You were barely to his waist then, but your smile was bigger than the two of there's put together. You held onto him so tight it wrinkled his jersey. When you would call for your older brother it used to be in reference to Sungchan, when you wanted comfort you used to run past Eunseok right into Sungchan's arms. You used to complain about Sungchan having to go to his own house instead of spending another night at your place.

When the looks you started giving him became more obvious and turned to something different. Overnight you started hanging on every word Sungchan would say, batting your eyelashes and looking up at him. Eunseok and Sungchan still hung around after they graduated highschool and you were nearly done yourself. During that gap year you seemed to always be home, seniors in highschool always seemed to be everywhere else but school.

Eunseok was casual about it, he always was. He would only look between you and Sungchan's exchanges, nothing more than a scratch at the top of his head and everything else was forgotten. Sungchan knew that being an older brother was never something Eunseok strived to excel at, he remembered the casual confession from his friend that he never asked for a younger sibling. Eunseok described your existence as something that just happened one day, his parents went to the hospital and he was watched by his grandparents all day. Sungchan could even recall the day sometimes, how he was buzzing with excitement at the thought of seeing a baby while his friend only shrugged his shoulders.

Eunseok was convinced that he had to still remain indifferent to you. But Sungchan could tell that it upset him to no end that he was bested at another thing. Even if something was irking Eunseok so deeply about whatever was blossoming he refused to let it show. The idea of Eunseok truly not caring upset Sungchan even more. He was too stoic.

Eunseok’s calm demeanor regarding you pissed Sungchan off. If he had a sister and he caught wind of mutual attraction he would’ve forbid Eunseok from coming over before it ever turned into whatever your stares at him had become. But Eunseok was a sleazy older brother, nonchalant and more concerned with video games and anime than being protective of you. Then Eunseok went as far to accuse Sungchan of liking you because he cared more about where you were going dressed the way you were. Sungchan was the one asking if you needed to be picked up later, if your parents knew what you were doing. Eunseok would only ask more questions to follow his friends lead, side-eyeing your conversation he was pushed out of. Eunseok would have to clear his throat to get the focus back on him, and then he would finally try being an older brother. But it was obvious he was only doing it for show.

He thinks to this day Eunseok never truly cared about protecting you when he gave Sungchan the rule, he just wanted to stand between another thing Sungchan was good at.

Eunseok was casual about it, paying more attention to the game than Sungchan. Sungchan stopped playing entirely, he could feel the controller vibrate in his hand with each hit he was taking. Eunseok didn’t look towards him once. He bit his lip in concentration from pressing the buttons at the right time, leaning back like the game was fair as Sungchan lost. Eunseok watched his character rip out the spine of Sungchan’s character in a gruesome way while the announcer called out the fatality. 

You had to have picked up on the rule. The dynamic between Sungchan and Eunseok changed that night and Sungchan knew you noticed, He gave you more credit than Eunseok ever did, even if you conflated things and blew them out of proportion. You thought that it was funny to call them boyfriends, and you said they were always in competition with eachother. Your commentary on their relationship was one of the things that pushed Eunseok to get his own place, because he couldn’t get rid of you but to his dismay he couldn’t get rid of Sungchan either. So that night only after Eunseok won a game over Sungchan, he told him two things.

He was getting his own apartment but he needed a roommate.

Sungchan absolutely could not, under any circumstance, fuck his sister. 

When you’d come around looking for Eunseok but find Sungchan you still had that look of adoration in your eyes, but Sungchan had respect for his friend. He avoided you, looked past you, would end up gone each time you came around. He knew you were looking for him, because he wasn’t stupid and you were more like your brother than you would ever know. When you stopped coming around after they moved in together Sungchan knew you knew he was purposefully making himself scarce. He also knew that Eunseok would feign benevolence each time, and would’ve just shrugged his shoulders if you asked where he was. 

Sungchan convinced himself that all was fair in the car ride back to the apartment. Eunseok was the one who waged the war, and the way you always looked at Sungchan was reminiscent of something tender. Maybe not love but blind adoration. A childhood crush that was never requited. Sungchan knew the crush was still fresh for you, because you still asked where he was each time he came around. He knew it still bothered Eunseok because he would always avoid giving you a straight answer. Sungchan would just have to be there to tell you himself.

Sungchan and Eunseok spent another quiet night on separate ends of their couch, watching a television show neither of them liked. The episodes dragged on after they were finished eating. It was obvious both of them were focused on other things. Eunseok’s leg was permanently restless, and Sungchan had his head balanced on his hand while the other picked at the couch. 

Your knock on the door gave Eunseok an excuse to call it a night, he got up too quick and paused the television show too fast. Sungchan lingered on the couch. When Eunseok’s back faced him he fixed his appearance, making sure his shirt fell just right and his hair looked nice, that he wasn’t getting the life drained out of him by boring television and his boring roommate. He made sure the hair you always used to pull at when you were younger looked fluffy, and the shoulders you used to hang off of when Eunseok didn’t want to play with you looked broad.

Instead of going back into his room when Eunseok opened the door for you Sungchan stayed right there, he even leaned forward to come into your line of sight. Sungchan watched you try focusing on your brother before you looked over his shoulder, then he watched Eunseok follow your line of sight until he grabbed the mail from your hands.

“Is that it?” Eunseok spoke loudly but you still didn’t look at him. Watching him try to be a big brother after all this time was amusing. Sungchan hoped he saw the way your eyes still focused on him, how you spoke to Eunseok but stayed looking at Sungchan on the couch. “Mom found some of your clothes laying around and she made me bring that too. She also made me bring food because she knows you guys are eating only eating takeout.”

“She made food for me too?” Sungchan asked.

He got up from the couch, and he watched you two focus on him. You two were too easy to fluster. Eunseok narrowed his eyes and you nodded your head mindlessly.

“Of course, she loves you.” Eunseok turned back towards you, because his mom rarely said something so heartfelt. Like Sungchan hadn’t been there a majority of Eunseok’s childhood to see it first hand, he watched you take your shake your head and quickly motion between him and Eunseok. “She loves you both. She loves you both and the food is in my car.” 

Before Eunseok could reluctantly offer to help you, Sungchan was clearing the apartment and sliding on Eunseok’s crocs. He took his friends small shoes and crammed his feet in them, knowing those were things Eunseok had chided him for in the past. 

Sungchan didn’t close the door in Eunseok’s face. He let him see the way your expression lit up, he let him see the way he looked down at you with a smile. He wanted Eunseok to bask in it, he wanted you to ignore him when he insisted he could help you instead. He let Eunseok’s thoughts ferment in the entryway and wonder what you two were talking about while he scrambled around the apartment for another pair of his shoes. When Eunseok finally made it down the stairs to the parking lot Sungchan let him see the moment you put your number in his phone before realizing he was there, and he let Eunseok see the way you tried to act inconspicuous about the whole thing. 

The following weeks, Sungchan played you and your brother. Eunseok’s guilt made it easy. Eunseok knew that Sungchan was texting you because he didn’t try to hide it. He saw your name pop up on his phone screen, he saw the way you came around everyday. Eunseok suddenly had a million things waiting for him at his parents place, and you were the only one who could bring it by. Eunseok didn’t press the issue further because he didn’t know how to be a good big brother after years of pretending you didn’t exist, and he didn’t know how to be a good friend after fucking Sungchan’s ex. He just watched and waited, question on the tip of his tongue when Sungchan would tell him he would be bringing company over at night.

Eunseok did try to catch him in the act once. In the middle of the night after Eunseok came back from what Sungchan assumed to be another visit to his ex he heard him come through the door. Almost instantly when the front door close Sungchan let himself get louder, letting go of his bitten lip to let the smallest sounds slip through the walls. Sungchan had the biggest room but it was right by the entryway, he could hear Eunseok’s loud steps stop right by his closed door. Sungchan ignored the quiet knocks, instead getting louder and squeezing his hand tighter. 

When Eunseok opened the door, Sungchan jolted in his bed. He pretended like he didn’t hear Eunseok the past week try to subtly drops hints about how he was too loud late at night. He watched his friend’s expression shift from triumph of catching him in the act to pure horror when he realized it was Sungchan in his room by himself.

After Sungchan told him to get out, he had to worry about Eunseok’s presence alot less. Guilt from walking in on his roommate masturbating tacked on with the guilt of fucking his ex-girlfriend made Eunseok disappear all together. He was doing things on his own throughout the day and turned the sound up on his headset late at night. When Sungchan would come out to grab something from the common area Eunseok would duck away no matter what he was doing. Food was left on the table and the fridge was practically left open, the only trace of him being there was the glow from his headset and the sound of his door closing. 

Eunseok unfortunately made himself too hidden. Sungchan realized after the fact that he foolishly pushed his bestfriend past his limit, turning him into a complete hermit. When Sungchan started sneaking you into the apartment Eunseok never got the chance to get a glimpse of you. The first night you were in Sungchan’s room and your body was leaned against his shoulder the only thing Sungchan was paying attention to was the sound of his friend coming out of his room. Both you and Sungchan sat on the edge of his bed facing the door, his fingers deep inside of you. You made him promise to lock the door but you two still managed to end up there, practically on display just waiting for the door to open. The anticipation made it so Sungchan couldn't look away even if he wanted to. He didn’t take his eyes away from the door, he still looked at the handle when he'd turn his head ever so often to plant a distracted kiss on your lips. You were no better, not even paying attention to what was going on beyond the walls of Sungchan's bedroom. You still held your sounds back then, the same way Eunseok always held back his, so worried about your unknowing brother who did not care.

The second time you got too loud. Sungchan was thinking about other things, like what was going on beyond the wall he shared and you were distracting him. You called him by the nickname Eunseok gave him mockingly, telling jinsu to go faster and that you were so close. He had you bent over the dresser that was against their shared wall, and he had to finally clasp a large hand over your mouth. By the end of that night you were sucking on his fingers, and moved to the center of his bed and pushed down to a pathetic position on your stomach. Sungchan had to wrap a hand underneath your waist to keep you up.

Sungchan found out you were weak just like Eunseok too. No endurance, no sports you stayed involved in. There was a pattern between the two of you that was never brought up, where you two started in sports but developed a liking for indoor activities instead. There was a time where Eunseok played sports with Sungchan, then overnight his friend ditched him for anime and video games. You went down the same path, you were just able to cover it up with makeup and making friends. When Eunseok became a recluse you became a social butterfly, a homebody that was ironically out every weekend. Sungchan told himself he could never bring this up because how much you hated being compared to your brother, and Eunseok spent most of his days forgetting he even had a sister.

You were also low maintenance just like your brother. The pretty hair and expensive clothes were just for show. The spoiled princess accusations Eunseok used to say under his breath passing was false. The concept of someone wanting something and vocalizing it was just so foreign to Eunseok he assumed you were rotten. If anything it was Sungchan who was spoiled. You came running with just a text, ditching your friends and any plans just to sneak into his apartment. The only thing you asked was if your brother would be there. That didn’t seem to bother you too much, because Sungchan said maybe and you still were at his door with an overnight bag tucked underneath your arm.

When he opened the door you came right into his arms. Like the day you went without seeing him was a century, you buried your head deep in his chest and breathed him in. You smelled like Eunseok but sweeter, as if he was drowned in rose and vanilla.

“I missed you.” You whispered it when you pressed the side of your face into Sungchan’s chest. Sungchan felt you squeeze him tighter and play with the bottom of his shirt. He hummed and rubbed your back, easing out that tension in your shoulders. 

He didn’t know someone in your family could be so vulnerable. He had known Eunseok for years and there were still walls he didn’t bother to break down anymore. He let his friend be mysterious and he let your parents be passive. You treated Sungchan like a gift because he let you be vulnerable, even if he only responded with i know or it’s okay.

Sungchan almost felt bad for what he was doing. Even in the dark entryway he could see that look in your eye. Always like a lost puppy, seemingly becoming even more innocent in debauched circumstances. Eunseok was going to come home at some point, Sungchan knew that. He knew that you were going to make noise that would bleed through the cracks in his doors and the thin walls. He had to clasp a hand over your mouth anytime he had you like this, or push your face into the mattress until you got the hint. Being vulnerable came with being loud, a bumbling mess with tears welling in your eyes and broken words falling from your lips. You looked like a puppy and you sounded like one too, whimpering and drooling while you wasted all your energy.

But that wasn’t his view just yet. You were kneeling on his bed for him right now, left in your underwear and a camisole as you looked up to him. Sungchan was still fully clothed, looking down at the way your thighs pressed together the more you leaned back to try and settle yourself. He brought his hand up to your face, already knowing you’d eagerly move to put your chin in the palm of his hand.

“You’re too cute.” A pitiful exhale fans his palm. Your eyes manage to get even more watery, almost twinkling as you look up at him. He almost feels bad for what he’s doing. “Do you know how cute you are?” He asks.

You shake your head, and Sungchan is grateful for Eunseok being a terrible brother. Sungchan even feels gratitude in his heart for Eunseok being a terrible friend. If those things hadn’t happened, and Eunseok hadn’t made that post Sungchan would’ve never been here. Caressing your chin, feeling you give all your free will to him. You were malleable, made in Sungchan’s image after a little less than two weeks. His hands crafted you into whatever you were becoming. The power was intoxicating, because even he had no idea what you were molding into. Submissive, eager to please, reaching for something you didn’t know how to handle. 

“Do you think your brother is an asshole?” Sungchan’s hand underneath your chin tilted your head up to him. Your pretty eyebrows knit together in confusion, and Sungchan tried not to laugh at tripping you up. He remained serious, tilting your head even further up. “Do you think he’s a bad person?” He asked.

He gave you the smallest amount of authority when you started messing with his belt. He let his hands fall to his sides and he overcompensated your strength, letting your shaking hands pull his hips towards you. Sungchan sighed at the thought of you being dominant. He knew you didn’t have it in you. Your avoidance of responsibility made Sungchan relinquishing power hard. Even if it was for your benefit, even if it was all a show the second sigh he let out was smug. His hands went to resting at his hips as yours became more hesitant.

You didn’t take well to being in charge. You didn’t take well to questions you didn’t know how to answer. You don’t know your brother, even if you grew up in the same house and had so much in common. Sungchan almost wants to tell you about the Reddit post, to let you know how truly sleazy your older brother is. But if he was honest he’d have to tell you that’s the reason why you two are in this room when there’s only a wall separating you from your brother’s room. Almost immediately your hands started to falter, the thought of disapproval from Sungchan made you fix your gaze on his stomach instead. You pulled his belt tighter instead of pulling it loose. You were more like your brother than either of you would ever know. Sungchan knew your palms were lining with sweat, the same way Eunseok would get whenever he knew he wasn’t doing something perfectly. Your face was hot to the touch, he could feel it when his hand went back to your chin. 

“You’re really too cute.” Sungchan said again.

He notices that you two both have the same habit of denying compliments when you first receive them. Eunseok looks to the side while you slowly shake your head. Sungchan manually nods your head with his fingers holding your chin.

You and Eunseok were meant to be lead by someone like Sungchan. The self-proclaimed brains to his brawn. One couldn’t exist without the other, no matter how miserable the other had become. That’s why Eunseok fucked his ex. That’s why he was about to fuck you. Eunseok would eventually find out about you two, if he didn’t already know he would figure out by the clothes Sungchan would strategically leave laying around in the common area. He could tell you were going to make noise for him tonight. Eunseok was still up around this time, the banging on his wall and the sound of things falling would keep him awake.

Sungchan watches your hands go back to your thighs, resting in a clenched fist. Everything about you was made to please Sungchan. From his favorite color on your underwear to your shirt that was a size to small. You gave him everything, the little bow on your waistband like you were his gift. He should feel terrible for doing this. Breaking the one stipulation his bestfriend gave him. But he waged the war, and this was fair. You didn’t mind, because you started digging your nails into your leg when Sungchan took too long undoing his belt. He kept you waiting, until his pants were at his ankles and you were watching him grab himself over his boxers.

“Turn around for me baby.” He said.

You were better at listening to him than Eunseok. When Eunseok would’ve shaken his head or pretended not to hear him all together you were scurrying to the center of his mattress, turning around and sticking your ass in the air. Sungchan watched you let out out a pensive breath, settling into the arch he showed you the very first night. You were a faster learner than Eunseok too.

Sungchan took off his underwear and touched himself, knowing you wished you were the one doing it. The first night you told Sungchan a million times how much you thought of him, how you waited so long just for the chance to touch him. Sungchan let you remember while he slowly worked his hand up his length, the same way he did when Eunseok caught him all those weeks ago. He put on the condom slowly after he watched your shaky hands pull out the slimy latex. The top of the foil packaging was still between your teeth, only falling out when you let out another labored breath. Your head fell back to the mattress and Sungchan settled behind you, hands gripping your waist tight.

“Be loud tonight, okay?” Sungchan watched you preemptively bite your lip and look towards the shared wall. The occasional thud on the other side could be heard, the dull whirring of Eunseok talking into his microphone came through. Worry crossed your pretty eyes, you wiped your palms on Sungchan's comforter. Sungchan come clower to you, until he felt your frame give slightly underneath his. He focused on your big eyes and he pulled together his most sincere look. “Please? For me?” Sungchan asked.

That’s all it took for you to nod your head. You were easier than Eunseok, that was for certain. He pushed into you with ease because you were made for him, and you groaned loudly solely because he asked. Sungchan made sure you made noise for good reason, until you were rivaling with the creak in his mattress and his headboard bumping into the wall. He hoped that it rocked Eunseok’s computer setup, that his friends could hear it in their voice chat. The thought of it made Sungchan prop a leg up and pull your hips backwards to meet him. The thought made him make sounds of his own, until his throat become dry and his voice become hoarse. He was made for you too it seemed, because you squeezed him tight and your sweaty hand clasped around his perfectly. 

He knew when you were getting close. He knows your brother so by extension he knows you too, and the same time you started forgetting about anyone else in the apartment he finally heard Eunseok’s door open. Sungchan heard the creak in the floorboards and then Eunseok's timid steps outside his door. Eunseok knocked just like he did the first night, and Sungchan wrapped his arms around your chest to bring you up from the bed to pull you against him. He let your sounds come out, the identity of who was crying obvious even to indifferent brothers. Eunseok didn’t knock again, he left the apartment completely and closed the front door so loud pictures on Sungchan’s wall shook. You shook in Sungchan's arms before you melted to his bed.

Sungchan broke the one rule Eunseok set for him. All is fair. Eunseok waged the war and Sungchan would end it. He wouldn't make a Reddit post about it, he would only leave the white sweater Eunseok bought for you on Christmas draped over the couch in their shared common area.

[jaehyvno]

        arguing with bf!jongho

is either the most frustrating thing ever or one of your favourite things in your relationship

it all really depends on how pissed off and how serious the topic of argument is (which to be fair holds true for most if not all couples)

you can never start a play argument with him, forget play fighting

you had searched long and lost for something amiss in the house that you could use to have a fake argument with him. you had planned on recording it, put it on tiktok maybe, be one of those couples.

but jongho, this fucker, is such an ideal boyfriend. it's annoying.

laundry? done. the dishes you told him to do because you were tired? done. he'd even rescheduled playing football with his friends because you'd called him over, unaware of his previous plans. in short? perfect. boyfriend.

but fortunately for you and your devious plan, men were men. and their tendency to leave the toilet seat up was unavoidable. and so starts your plan.

"choi jongho!" you scream from the upstairs bathroom, knowing you'd garner his attention from where he's lounging in the living room. you hear the prompt "yes, baby?" from him. "come here, right now!" your no nonsense tone has him up in your bedroom in seconds.

when he gets up there you hear him shuffle in the bedroom before the door to the bathroom finally opens. he surveys you with furrowed brows. when the urgency in his eyes fades, he looks around the bathroom. "spider? insect that i need to kill?"

you cross your arms, glaring at your poor boyfriend. you point at the toilet seat, brow raised as you ask, "how many times do i have to tell you to put the seat down?" he chuckles. oh, the audacity. but also, the sassy laugh has you folding. sort of. he makes a half apology, reaching past you to put the seat down, then heads to the sink to wash his hands. you watch him do all that with a heated glare.

"this is turning into a repeated thing, jongho." mentally, you run through the few sentences you'd prepared. "it's like my opinion and preferences are not valued in this house. is that so?" you cock a brow at him, and he matches your face perfectly. "do my words just enter through one year and leave through the oth—" you had started trailing off mid sentence and you cut yourself off abruptly when jongho grabs your leg and slings you over his shoulders.

you try to argue still, but he shushes you. "shh. if you want to be angry do it somewhere else. the bathroom is bad feng shui." you blink. and then you kick at his side to get him to put you down.

when he doesn't, you run through your lines, screaming them in his ear. your plan was failing! the perfectly set-up and hidden camera in the bathroom wasn't of use! "shush, baby. come watch something with me, hm?"

you frown. "can we watch reruns of big bang theory?" he nods. anything to get you to shut up. "anything you want baby, anything you want."

a/n: the lack of jongho fics/drabbles on here is insane!? you must create what you seek, and i took it seriously. jongho the man you are 😩. that one compilation of jongho picking up yeosang over his shoulder got me giggling n shit. like is this a safe space to talk about how he'll throw his gf over his shoulders when she's throwing a tantrum or when theyre play fighting and carries her to the bedroom like that like... do we see the vision??? working on three different works simultaneously rn teehee. a han jisung oneshot(?), a yangyang oneshot and a mark lee fic. wonder which one i'll end up posting first but heh. requests are open!

[pencilpat]

The Scout RED v. BLU sketch pages were fun, I might keep doing that until I run out of steam. Take some Snipers.

Like the Scout ones, some brief related headcanons below.

RED:

-Likes bugs a lot. Will go out of his way to pick up and play with even the 'ugliest' or most dangerous ones. Fond of roaches and beetles. If he could wake up tomorrow and be a beetle, he'd finally be content with life.

-Smokes, both tobacco and weed. He tries to not smoke too much weed though, because if he smells like it he would be easy to track down during battle. Tobacco really helps his nerves and paranoid thinking.

-Sewed animal teeth onto his own hat. He likes his hat a lot, it was a gift from his father. Hunting also reminds him of spending time with his dad & mum, and he likes to go hunt birds to cook, or to go fishing to pass the time off work.

-Enjoys a GNC look sometimes. Considers himself a bit of a girl too, but doesn't really know how to express that to the people around him. "I'm probably nonbinary but I've got a job so idrc about that rn."

-Pierced his ears himself. Has longer, unruly hair that he contains with ponytails and braids. Is very tan because of spending so much of his time outside. Generally dresses in darker clothes during work, as it makes him feel like he blends into the shadows (even though it really makes him stand out a bit more). Always has a slight smile, like he's making fun of you in his head.

-Rarely seen without a weapon of some sort on his person. Also pretty much never seen without his sunglasses on.

BLU:

-Peeked through the brain-scooping-induced veil once and realized he had the same face as someone on the other team. So they scooped his brain even more til it got muddled up. Now he gets frequent, intense migraines and struggles with his balance, and with limb control on his left side. It mostly affects his legs, meaning he can still snipe with good accuracy. He sometimes uses a cane if he feels particularly weak that day.

-Hates his face but can't remember why without his head pounding. He can barely even see it, it feels like. Like a big pixelated mass where it should be. So he covers it a lot, especially during battles and missions.

-Hats make him feel more anonymous. Ranges from very cool ones to the dorkiest bucket hats you've ever seen.

-Likes fishing and nature walks to look for birds. Also goes hunting in the tundra around the BLU base pretty much daily. It's good stress relief.

-Plays guitar, pretty decently too. Also good for stress relief.

-Uses a bow and arrows about as much as he uses his rifle. He hand carves his arrows, wood carving is a very satisfying hobby for him.

-Always seems a little pallid and grey in the face. Especially compared to the deep tan RED Sniper has.

-Cuts or shaves down his hair regularly, only lets it grow back a little. Clean-shaven unless he's doing terribly that week. Has a couple scars that stick around even after respawning. Wears bracelets and necklaces often, though less so during work. Only smiles when he's alone, and in general behaves coldly towards his team.

-Doesn't smoke or drink. Hates the feeling of an altered consciousness.

-Paid his own money for a gun he thought looked better. He's getting tired of being on the losing team all the time.

Bonus

[girlwhorizzed]

BABYDADDY!JJ ✗ READER 𐙚

haii guys !! this is based off this ask :p

pairings ፧ babydaddy!jj ✗ reader

warnings ፧ violence , language , jj being a deadbeat :3 , mention of sex , reader being a homie hopper :333 , 🦄

just as you'd thought finally, babydaddy!jj would step up and try to at least be a father to your babygirl— just like that he was gone. you'd opened yourself up to him like a fool that night when he'd wandered on your doorstep, walking straight into his words like a mouse would a trap. he hadn't even stayed long enough to see your babygirl awake, long enough to see that she began to develop his features and she'd inherited those eyes that you fell in love with when you were young which seemed like a life time ago now, in a twisted way your happy he didn't. if he'd stayed for breakfast your sure that your daughter would then expect him everyday— he saved her the heartbreak.

it'd been a few months from then now, your baby girl had been developing rapidly in the past few months, growing and reaching new milestones every day. she'd recently hit the age where she'd began to babble, trying to form words and sounds. she'd even started crawling and taking her first few steps, albeit more of a stumbling than actual walking, but progress was progress, and you could hardly believe how fast she was growing.

she’d become a constant topic of conversation between you and john b- as he’d unexpectedly been around more often to see her and pitch in for diapers and formula, you saw him more than you saw your actual baby daddy. john b had showed up at your doorstep like his best friend— sharing the same traits and actions. but the brunette wasn't there to just sweet-talk you and fuck you then leave the moment it ended, he'd approached you with a box stuffed with all sorts of different pattern onesies aimlessly with sizes he'd thought fit your baby. from that day on it'd become a daily occurrence where john b was at your apartment, either laying a helping hand with your sweet girl or providing her resources.

everyone automatically assumed that you and john b had something going on, from the way he'd entered your apartment at four o'clock and left at eight o'clock— it raised suspicion from the cut, everyone who was associated with the pogues knew that you were jj's girl, his baby mama and someone that was meant to be left untouched like a piece of cake in a fridge full of hungry people. john b knew that. he'd heard and got first hand reality if anyone were to cross you in any way that the blonde wouldn't hesitate to resort to violence. , yet again the brunette was up in your apartment caring for you and your daughter. playing the daddy role.

it did something to you, the way john b cared and stepped up for your daughter. he'd been so soft and gentle with her, cautious since the moment he met her. you couldn't help but want to give him his own baby, you felt ashamed even giving attention to those thoughts that circled your head— if jj could have full access to anyone he wanted, why couldn't you? just because you bore his baby meant you were instantly off-limits to anyone? you weren't wrong for having a little fun. so yes, you did seduce him, and he didn't exactly reject you.

oh did jj catch you off guard. it’d been a long day, filled with the usual hustle and bustle that came with being a parent. you were tired and feeling rather worn out from all the emotional and physical exertions that came with caring for an infant. so you’d decided to have a movie night, settling in with the baby and john b. just the three of you, a nice and peaceful evening. till a knock that you swore caused trauma disturbed it. as those knocks at the door echoed throughout the four walls of your home, the movie being playing was muffled to a halt as your eyes and john b's shot to each other, both equally confused.

who would be trying to get your attention at this hour? at first, you thought it was nothing, that the wind must have knocked against the door but after a few more taps, there was no denying there was someone at your doorstep."i'll go get it. you just wait here with her." your friend spoke gently, giving you a soft smile, knowing that you were both puzzled.

he stands up and pads over to the door, his footsteps muffled against the carpet. he reaches for the handle with a furrowed brow, unsure of who could possibly be standing on the other side. the lock twists, and then he pushes the door open, and there he was. the same boy you'd been in love with since you were sixteen, the boy you shared a child with — jj maybank himself. his face was a mixture of emotions - surprised, angry, hurt. he looked tired too, like he hadn't slept properly in days. his eyes meet john b's, their gaze locked. there's a tense silence that hangs between them, a charged energy that fills the air.

your first instinct is to detach yourself from your cozy place on the couch, sensing the vibe becoming nasty. you see the drastic change on jj's face, his face becoming sour and envious, recognizing that dangerous glint in his eyes. you stand up with your baby on your hip, hurrying to set her down in her playpin then approaching the situation. "jj— what are you doing here?"

he looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. his eyes flick over your figure, taking in every detail of your appearance - the way your hair is tousled slightly from how you'd been laying on the couch, the way your top is slightly askew, exposing a bit of your collarbone. he narrows his eyes at your neck, his gaze lingering on the small mark on your skin that he knew hadn't been there before. he looks back up at your face, his jaw tense. “i could ask you the same thing.” he snaps.

you scoff, rolling your eyes at his audacity. you'd been doing it all on your own with little help from him, and now he's suddenly showing up and expecting you to explain yourself? you take a step forward, your eyes narrowing at him. "oh, so you want to act hurt now? where were you when i was up at two in the morning changing diapers and comforting our crying daughter, huh? where were you when she took her first steps, or when she said her first word? you weren't there, jj."

he bristles at your words, his lip curling in annoyance. he takes a step forward as well, closing the distance between you two. his jaw tenses and his eyes flash with something that looks a lot like guilt and regret. “yeah, so you get back at me with my best friend? proves your a fuckin' whore. real low mama.” he retorts, his voice raising slightly.

john b glares at jj, his eyes dark and angry. his protective instincts kick in, and he steps forward to stand between you and jj. "watch it maybank. she's not some side piece, she's your baby's mom. she hasn't had it easy at all." john b clenches his jaw, his body slightly tense as he stands his ground.

jj scoffs, his eyes narrowing at the sight of john b standing in front of him. his expression is almost feral, the sight of his best friend, his brother protecting the girl who he thought still belonged to him driving him insane. he takes another step forward, his chest heaving with anger. "that's the mother of my child, and your fuckin her?" he snaps, his voice dripping with jealousy and anger.

you watch the two of them, seeing the way they both glare at each other with so much anger it's almost tangible. you can feel the heat radiating off them both, the tension crackling in the air. you take a step forward, placing your hand on john b's back, trying to diffuse the situation. "stop it! just stop." you say firmly, your eyes flickering between the two boys.

john b doesn't back down, his eyes still fixed on jj with a stern expression. he feels your hand on his back and he relaxes a bit, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. jj, on the other hand, looks at you for a moment, his face softening momentarily before his expression hardens again. he takes a step back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "so, y'all together or what?" he asks quietly.

you can feel the tension in the room thicken. you swallow, your heart pounding in your chest. you look from jj to john b, the two boys standing opposite each other with their eyes locked, like they were in a standoff. you take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. you know that whatever you say next could make or break the situation, and you don't want to cause any more tension between the two of them. you look at jj, your eyes meeting his gaze. "what do you mean?" you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. fully aware on what he meant.

he scoffs, the anger in his voice replaced by a hint of hurt and vulnerability. he doesn’t take his eyes off you, his gaze pinning you in place. “you know what i mean.” he pauses, taking a moment to collect himself and trying to rein in his jealously and anger. “are you with him?” john b stays silent, his eyes flickering between the two of you. he could feel the tension mounting, the silence becoming more potent. he doesn’t make any movement, waiting to see your response to jj’s question.

you can feel the weight of both boys' gazes on you, waiting for you to respond. the tension in the air is thick and palpable, and it's almost suffocating. you can sense the pain and hurt in jj's voice, the way his body language screams protectiveness. and then there's john b, his eyes fixed on you, waiting for your answer to the question that could break the three of you apart. your mind races, trying to figure out the right thing to say — the only thing you can manage is a soft, quiet whimper, which escapes your lips involuntarily.

jj's expression falters for a moment at the sound, his eyes softening for a split second before hardening again. the sight of you, his girl, whimpering in front of him - it did things to him that he couldn't explain. he clenches his jaw, returning his focus back to the brunette in front of him. "would've never done this to you, never." he takes one last look to you before he's lunging at john b, who doesn't hesitate to return the favor back.

a gasp escapes your lips as jj lunges at john b, their bodies colliding with a loud thud. you're in shock, your mind racing as you watch them grapple with each other. their fists fly, and a mix of grunts and curses fill the air as they exchange blows. you're torn, a part of you wanting to intervene, but the other part paralyzed with fear. you take a step forward, your heart pounding in your chest. "stop it! jj stop! our baby is here!" you manage to say, your voice trembling with desperation.

but neither of them pay you any mind, too consumed in their own anger and frustration to listen to reason. they continue their brawl, fists flying and bodies crashing into furniture and walls. the sound of their fighting fills the air and you can't help but feel helpless a wave of helplessness washes over you as the boys get more violent by the second, with no signs of stopping.

the abrupt cry from your babygirl jolts the boys out of their anger and they both freeze, the sound of the baby's wails piercing through the air. they're both panting, sweat and blood staining their faces and clothes. they look at each other for a moment, the tension between them still thick, before turning their attention to the playpin where the baby's crying. the sound of your baby's cry is like a bucket of ice water being thrown on them, jj and john b freeze, their chests heaving as they slowly back away from each other, their fists raw and bloodied. "jesus christ." john b mutters, his eyes darting over to the cry of your baby girl.

you walk over to the play pin, your heart heavy with a mix of concern for both the boys and your little girl. you scoop your baby up into your arms, cradling her against your chest, whispering soothing words of comfort and trying to calm her down. "shh it's okay baby i'm here. mama's here. everything's going to be okay..." her soft little cries piercing through the room. she's probably been woken up from the loud noises of the fight, and she's scared and confused. you notice the moment that both boys stop their brawl, their attention shifting to the baby's wailing. she's still too young to understand what's going on, and you can tell she's scared. your heart breaks a bit at the sight of her crying, and the guilt and shame creeps up on you for allowing this to happen in front of her.

john b stands there, panting heavily as he watches you soothe the baby, guilt and remorse etched across his features. he can't help but feel responsible for this whole mess, and he knows that he should have stopped the fight sooner. he looks down at his bruised and bloodied knuckles, still clenched from the fight. "goddammit." he mutters, his voice hoarse. meanwhile jj just stands there, his eyes fixed on the baby, and then you. his heart is pounding in his chest, his mind racing. seeing his child being so scared and crying because of their stupidity, he's never felt more like garbage.

you look over at john b, your eyes pleading. "can you - can you just go? for a while." you say softly. "I need to talk with him." you point to jj with your free hand, still rocking your baby girl softly.

john b doesn't hesitate, he nods and slowly heads to the door, his shoulders slumping with guilt. he knows he should have stopped this from happening, but instead, he had only made things worse. "yeah, yeah I'll go." he mutters, his voice soft and filled with regret., leaving just you and jj in the now tense and quiet apartment.

you focus on the baby once john b goes, trying to soothe her with soft words and gentle rocking. it takes a few minutes but she eventually calms down, her cries subsiding into small hiccups. you sigh in relief, cradling her against your chest. the silence in the room is palpable now that you're left alone with jj, both of you knowing that the conversation you're about to have is long overdo.

after a while, your baby begins to make small coos and whimpers in your arms, reaching small, soft hands outward. her eyes are searching for something or someone. she squirms and fusses as if she wants you to set her down. as you start to realize what your baby wants, your breath catches in your throat. you look up at jj, who's just been watching from a distance until now, his face a mixture of hurt, confusion, and something that almost looks like longing. you shift towards the blonde, holding out his daughter toward him.

jj looks at you, his eyes wide with surprise. he's staring at you both with a mix of emotions. seeing the baby, his baby, squirming and fussing, it triggers something within him - something that he can't quite put into words. he's torn between anger, hurt, and this overwhelming sense of longing to hold her - to hold his child.his heart pounding in his chest. he takes a step forward hesitantly, as if afraid to touch her. but he can't resist the urge, and slowly, he reaches out a hand to take her from you. his fingers brush against her small, soft body, and he gasps softly as he holds her in his arms for the first time in a long time. "woah." he whispers, looking down at the baby with awe and wonder. "she's so small."

the baby's eyes focus on the man holding her, her tiny lips parting in a soundless 'oh'. she reaches her small hand out, gently touching his face, as if trying to understand who this giant is. she makes a small noise, not quite a cry but not quite a coo either, tilting her head to the side. the man seems to realize she's studying him, and he lets out a soft chuckle. "hi sweet girl, it's your daddy." he murmurs, his voice gruff but gentle. "sorry ya gotta see my face all beat up."

you watch the interaction between your baby and jj, a mix of emotions welling up inside you. seeing him with her, holding her in his arms, it's all so surreal. his face, normally so rough and guarded, is softened as he gazes down at her. tears prick at the corners of your eyes as a wave of feelings wash over you. love, regret, hope, and uncertainty all swirled together in a confusing mess. you swallow back a sob, trying to hold it together.

jj can sense the emotions radiating off of you. he looks back up at you, his expression shifting from adoration for his daughter to a more guarded one. he can tell that you're struggling with your own feelings, and a part of him wants to know what's going through your head. but another part of him is afraid to know. his eyes soften, and he gently rubs the baby's back, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on you. "ya mama is a crybaby like 'chu."he jokes gently.

a small, shaky laugh escapes your lips as you wipe away a stray tear that has managed to escape. "yeah," you choke out, your voice strained but trying to keep it light. "something like that." the sight of jj holding the baby in his arms, the way he was gently rubbing her back, it was both heartwarming and painful all at once. you wanted to step closer, to wrap your arms around them both, but you held yourself back. you knew there were still so many things unsaid between the two of you.

jj sees the way your body tenses, and he can tell you're holding yourself back. there's a part of him that wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to hold both you and his child close, but he knows that there's still so much to say, so much to work through before y'all can cross that bridge. the room is silent, except for the baby's soft coos and whimpers. jj gently bounces her back and forth, and she seems to be getting comfortable in his arms. he looks at you and sighs. "when ya gonna start bein' honest with me?"

your heart sinks at his question, you know he deserves the truth, but the idea of facing it all head-on makes your heart race. you look at him, your eyes locked with his, and you take a deep breath, tears threatening to fall again. "i just want you to be her daddy. just be her daddy." you admit, your voice cracking. you look at the baby, still clutched in his arms, and a wave of guilt washes over you.

jj's expression softens as he sees the tears pooling in your eyes. he takes a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours as he speaks, his voice low and soft. "i am her daddy." he responds, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. "i'm here now, aint' i?" he looks down at the baby, his daughter, his eyes full of love and affection.

just like that night so long ago, your crumbling into him. you lean into him and let him hold you.

jj feels your body sag against him, and he instinctively tightens his grip around you, holding you close to him. he whispers soothing words in your ear, his voice gruff but full of tenderness. "shh, i got you. i'm here." he rubs your back, his touch gentle and reassuring. he can feels the tears wetting his shirt, and he sighs, resting his chin on top of your head.

it's sooner or later that the baby falls asleep in his presence, and later so will you too once he's finished with you.

[moonydustx]

Hiiii!! I love your writing and was wondering if you’re still accepting requests? If so could I have one where reader is dressed in a similar outfit to Nami’s purple Zou outfit and there’s a big party happening and reader gets self conscious bc no ones talking to her during said party so she leaves to go back to her room that has a balcony and as she’s staring down at the party Law comes in to see why she left so she like tells him she feels ridiculous in her outfit and it turns out that Law was jealous that other people got to see her in such an outfit because he likes her so much that he was staring people down so no one would take her attention and he confesses how he feels under the stars on the balcony? and maybe there’s smut🤭🤭🤭 You can skip this request if you want!! I know i wrote a lot 😅

hello, anyone there?

Sorry for the delay in responding to your request and sort of answering your question, yes, I still accept requests, but I've been working kind of 10 hour days + responsibilities at home, which hasn't given me much time to write.

I made some small adjustments to your suggestion, I honestly hope you don't hate me.

•••

my reach

info: what sensations can a pirate life bring? After a victory, a celebration can mean many things.

warnings: text not proofread, will possibly have some errors as English isn't my first language. a kittle bit angst, F!reader have some insecurities, smut, doing in open skies, a little dirty talk.

For those who haven't reached Zou, this is the reference dress.

You didn't know what was echoing louder at that moment: the drunken voices, the singing or your thoughts. It was a party, you should have been happy or at least a little confident.

After so many fights and disputes, the alliance between the pirates had finally worked out and apparently you would finally have some time of peace. What didn't need many more reasons than this for Luffy, captain of one of the allied crews, to suggest a huge banquet, a party that would probably last for days and no one would question it. The good thing about having other crews together was that the reduced number of women - in the heart pirates it was the large number of two, you and Ikkaku - increased, even if not so radically, just enough to fill the fingers of one hand.

"You really didn't like it?" Nami turned you in front of a mirror, forcing you to look at yourself once more. "It suits you so much."

"I think it looks amazing." Robin added with a simple smile. "And it's a banquet between friends, there's nothing to worry about."

"I agree, but after being so stressed with so many events, I think we deserve a more dressed-up day." Nami added, adjusting one of the straps on your dress. "And also a little alcohol, a little flirting, seriously, being a pirate can't be just that and besides there are so many different people here."

"But don't you think it's a bit much?" Your voice wavered a little and you had to dodge the pillow Ikkaku threw in your direction.

"Don't listen to her. We've been underwater for so long and in our uniforms that I think she's lost her common sense."

"Don't talk nonsense." You shot back, laughing. "Okay, a little alcohol won't hurt." About the flirting part, you don't know how safe you would feel with that.

The main deck of the ship was something almost impossible to cross. Some people walked around each other, singing songs that were almost impossible to decipher, others toasted and competed over how many mugs they could down at once. You just went with the flow, keeping up with the others' hurried steps.

It wasn't long before a drink occupied your hand and you got lost in some almost frivolous conversations. The stress you had recently experienced seemed to prevent everyone from thinking about anything more serious and, to be honest, not even you wanted to get caught up in problems at that moment.

"Ladies." Sanji's voice came across the entire space, in his hand some appetizers and you tried hard to ignore the fact that he was almost drooling. "You are the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever seen, I would write poems about you..."

In a somewhat strange juggling act, you saw him try to balance the tray in one hand and, with the other, twist to alternate between your colleague's hands, placing a kiss on each of them. Except for you, to whom he just smiled in your direction and headed in the opposite direction. Even staring at the other women present, that seemed like a common situation so you allowed yourself to ignore it.

With an almost lame excuse, your feet took you to the other side of the ship, where you could see your captain's sullen face while being disturbed by other crewmates.

"A good victory." You raised your glass, toasting first to Shachi, then Penguin and finally Law, who seemed to be immersed in something inside his own mind.

"Look, I don't think we've ever seen you so..." Shachi couldn't finish speaking before getting elbowed by his crewmate.

"Are you enjoying the party?" Law asked as soon as the two left with some excuse that you didn't try to understand what it was about.

"Yes, as much as possible."

You even thought about commenting on how you had become an outcast, even though in the hours before you had been trying hard to achieve the exact opposite result. However, for a flash, you were sure that Law was analyzing you. From top to bottom, inch by inch.

"Is there a problem, Captain?" A smile filled your lips as you saw him startled as he was pulled out of his own mind.

"Dresses. You don't usually wear them." He seemed lost in his own words. "It looks..."

Beautiful? Interesting? God, the milliseconds of waiting before Law finished speaking seemed like a small infinity of possibilities in your mind. A place where he had a certain captive vacancy, but he wouldn't even dream of it.

"It looks different." He pointed out and you could only nod.

Different. Okay, it's not the worst answer but it's far from a good one. The relationship between the captain and the subordinate of the two of you was intrinsically... different. Strangely comfortable, uncomfortably distant. He would always prefer to discuss some decisions with you and to the jealousy filled with tantrums and laughter of some, he would insist that you were the best cook of the crew. On your side, you loved ask him for tips, from books to medicines, and whenever possible, you would insist on having him stitch you up after some battles. You hated scars and he was the only one who could prevent them. It was a different relationship, he occupied a somewhat different place in you, but that didn't need to be exposed.

Apparently, if the efforts to look even minimally pretty that night didn't affect him, it wouldn't make any difference anymore. With an almost invisible smile on your lips, you just nodded and left him there. You started talking to some, laughed with others, but it didn't seem to work. From the idea of ​​alcohol and flirting, apparently only the first part was working. Heavens, Brook hadn't even asked about the color of your panties.

Luckily, keeping the ships close to each other meant that it wasn't difficult for you to reach the empty deck of the Polar Tang. The sound of the party was getting a little more distant. The full moon illuminated the entire night and, in addition to reflecting on the sea, created an almost distorted shadow of your body. Was that what you were then? You let your hand run over your dress, analyzing every stitch. Nothing was out of place, nothing seemed wrong with the outfit. The problem must be you.

"I would invest a good amount of berries for your thoughts." Law's voice startled you, which made him laugh. "Did you need some time to breathe?"

"Yeah, I guess so." You leaned against the edge of the deck, drowning in your own frustrations.

"I still have some berries to invest." He tried to lighten the mood, leaning against your side. "I know my crew too well. What happened?"

"It's just... is that all there is to a pirate's life?" You turned around, frustrated. "Tonight I wanted to feel something different from all the stress we have. Something more interesting than the smell of gunpowder, than the sting of a blade."

"I think there's enough booze there for you to feel much more than that."

"It's not that, Law. Geez, I dressed in a way I've never dressed before. Makeup, heels, perfume and still, I'm an outcast." you said frustrated and saw a smirk escape his lips. "Man, this isn't funny. I mean, not even Brook cared about my panties?"

"About that..." he began, his fingers adjusting his hat that wasn't out of place, just like a nervous tic. "Maybe someone threatened to throw him into the sea before he could even speak."

"What do you mean?"

"And maybe I told Sanji that if he got close to you his balls would sink to the bottom of the sea too. And maybe I said something similar to Killer, but he's more rational so he didn't need that much of a threat. And I definitely punched Kid."

"You punched Kid?"

"He said some really disgusting things." Law spoke with a frighteningly ordinary naturalness.

However, for you none of that was ordinary. You just stood there, still, watching the little confessions that came out of Law's lips. So he had pushed you away from everyone? That wouldn't make any sense. Unless...

"Apparently I was brave enough to do all that, but I've been a coward in hiding what I feel. You don't look any different, you look beautiful and I can guarantee that I wasn't the only one who thought that."

"You just made sure I didn't know that, right?"

"Sorry." he commented still in a frustrated tone, but taking a few steps enough to stop in front of you. "I like you, I really do. It got to a point where I found myself reading more books just to know what to recommend to you, I found myself hating being a doctor because I have to stitch you up every time you get into a fight at the same time I wouldn't let anyone touch you for that." He sighed deeply. The short distance between the two of you made your fingers itch to hug him. "What you said makes sense, we're pirates, we shouldn't only feel war inside us."

"What else can we feel then?"

Your lips touched before his hands even reached your waist. It was hard to know what had given you goosebumps more: the cold wind against your bare skin, the way your body was leaning against the edge of the deck, making you imminent of falling, or the way he had advanced on you. Definitely the third option.

His tongue began to invade your space, tracing delicious routes through your mouth, a fight for space that you had no interest in winning. His hands traced your curves until they rested on your waist. Whoever invented the theory that two bodies occupied the same place would probably be a good spectator for the way the two of you snuggled together.

Law seemed to have no shortage of air since, when he gave you space to breathe, his lips simply slid to the hollow of your neck. Wet kisses mixed with small grunts that would be marked on your skin, drawn like a map just for him, just for Law.

His eyes met yours as his kisses continued towards the neckline of your dress. A loud request - but still silent - to explore you beyond where his lips could reach at that moment.

"We could go somewhere else." You suggested breathlessly and saw him bury his face in your breasts, sighing deeply. "I really don't plan on being naked here."

"Naked? Nah." Without even hesitating, he supported you on the edge of the deck, preventing you from falling towards the sea by slipping into the gap between your legs. "I've been looking at you in that dress for too long to want to see you without it now."

"You've been looking?"

"Tell me, wasn't that exactly why you put it on?" An involuntary sigh escaped your lips when one of his hands slid down the inside of your thigh. "You drive me insane normally, but this... do you want to know what I thought?"

The question was rhetorical since beyond the moonlight, lust illuminated the eyes of the man tied to you. A moan escaped your lips as his fingers trailed over the damp fabric between your legs.

"Shh, we need to be discreet, okay? Can you be a good girl and stay quiet?" His fingers intensified the pressure, small circles under the damp fabric sending your mind into a spiral. "I promise to take you inside, let you make all the noise you want. And then I'll leave you naked, have all my time just for you."

"What if I want to stay here?" The question sounded like a challenge and you could have sworn that behind the fabric of his pants something had pulsed. "You still haven't told me what you thought, about the dress."

"What I thought..." he gently pulled you down from the support and turned you back to him. Your body automatically leaned forward, seeking contact. "The first idea that came to mind was you like this, on my table. All beautiful ready for me."

His hands adjusted the fabric of your dress so that it was to the side. His nimble fingers traced an indecipherable pattern on the skin of your ass, outlining the thin fabric of your panties.

"May I..." He asked, still circling the piece and saw you nod. With a delicacy unfamiliar to you, you felt him pull the fabric aside.

"Fuck." The word came out of his lips involuntarily. The sight made him hungrier than any dish he had seen at the banquet.

"What else did you think?" You asked, hearing the sound of his zipper.

"You're smart, I believe you know very well what I thought."

Silent kisses ran down your exposed back. The cold night breeze made contact with your damp skin, causing shivers. The first touch of his cock against your pussy elicited a shy moan from you as his teeth scraped your skin, whispering a shh once more, even though thrusting inside you had forced him to press his face against the back of your neck. The almost inaudible sounds that escaped your lips were enough for Law to almost explode right there.

He should have stopped being a coward before. It was only the first time and he didn't know how he could consider staying without feeling you.

"I'm sorry." He said, moving slowly. "You deserved better than the deck of a submarine."

"We're under the stars. Do you want something even better?" You said breathlessly, stretching your hand to reach his dark strands of hair. Law practically put his head under your hand, sinking into your neck. "Law!"

"I told you princess, no noise." He thrust harder, watching you press your lips together and hold back another moan. "Such a good girl, my good girl."

"A p-princess, huh?"

"My princess, yes. All dressed up like that I couldn't think of anything better." You barely understood how he could form a coherent thought while he was thrusting torturously and deliciously inside you. "I could call it an angel too. The way this beautiful pussy is squeezing me is definitely divine." His laugh at your moan sounded almost devilish, however.

The thrusts began to intensify and you pulled his hand that was holding your torso to cover your mouth, vainly containing the moans that escaped. You could already be clawing at the stars when you felt him pulling out of you. An almost drastic fall from the sky you were in.

"I want to look at you, beautiful thing." He turned you around to face him, lifting you up again. "I want to see that beautiful face when you cum."

"Then come back here now." You locked your legs around him, feeling his delicious invasion of you.

His lips once again took yours, just as voracious - if not even more so - than the first time. His coming and going grew louder and louder as he felt your voice vibrate against his. Moans being censored by each other.

"Hold on to me." He pulled away just enough to ask and you readily complied.

The abyss was getting closer and closer, the knot in your belly getting tighter and tighter. You stuck your body to his at first for fear of falling, but each time it became even more of a need to merge. Your screams hid in the small gap between the two of you, your skin would surely be sore at the slightest since his teeth dug in there as he filled you with his seed.

"I think..." he supported you back, still holding your waist with one hand. With the other, he lifted the shirt he was wearing. Both your eyes and his were guided to where your bodies joined. "We made a bit of a mess."

"A bit?" Your finger caught some of your mixed cum, bringing it to your own lips. "Delicious mess."

"Keep it up and you won't be coming back to the party." A light laugh escaped him as he heard you grunt as he pulled out of you. "On second thought, we don't need to go back."

"Law, you're the captain of one of the crews that was more than essential to the conquest."

"Well, that's a good idea." He said as he adjusted his own clothes and then repeated the gesture with yours. "Some clueless people will be able to know that you are out of their reach."

"Am I?"

"If your captain says so, I believe you should agree." He pointed out.

Your hands comforted his cheeks, smoothing every inch you could touch. A calm, almost chaste kiss escaped you. Anyone who saw from afar would imagine it was just a simple kiss and would not even be able to consider what you were doing a short time ago.

"I - I mean, I really want to keep you out of their reach. Only within my reach." That was it, in so much time as captain and subordinate, you had never seen Law look so nervous.

"Sounds like a good plan to me, captain. However, I hope it is reciprocal." He nodded, stealing another kiss from you.

Going back to the party seemed different. As soon as Law led you back to the ship, you let go of each other's hands, a small agreement of secrecy silently negotiated between you. However, you could feel him in you, in unconventional - and delicious - ways. Occasionally, you could feel his gaze burning in your direction, with distant care.

"Can I talk to you?" Zoro's voice startled you before you even noticed his hand on your waist. "Would you like to have a drink somewhere more private?"

"I'm drinking..." You pointed to the mug in your hand, but it took you a few seconds to fully understand what he was saying. "Oh, no. I mean, thank you, but no. I'm accompanied."

"Accompanied? So your captain finally stopped being a wimp?" Zoro saw and glanced sideways, not surprised to see that whatever Robin was talking to Law about seemed like a distant subject. "Nami asked me to do this, to see if he would do something."

"Hey, swordsman." You could hear the irritation in Law's voice from afar and it was clear how unhappy he was at that moment. "Is there a problem with her?"

"No, Captain, everything's fine here." You smiled in his direction and waved at Zoro, who just ignored what Law had said and left.

"So..." You started, trying to give your best mischievous smile. Which was much easier after remembering everything. "My drink is gone and I think I'm tired. I'm thinking about going back to Polar Tang."

"Sure, I can accompany you." Law said in false modesty.

You could count on your fingers how many steps you took towards a more empty place before the starry night turned into a room you didn't usually visit. Your body soon found his bed, your dress turned into a pile of fabric on the floor. His kisses finally freed to explore every inch of your nudity.

"I think I need to make it even clearer that you're out of their reach."

[creampill]

Konig x teacher reader and he helps her build stuff in her classroom! Like she’s writing lesson plans and he’s over here breaking a sweat trying to build cubby’s for kindergartners

Oh my goodness. Personal note, while I do want to teach, I want to be a professor. I could never manage small children when teaching. But through König, anything is possible.

I’d imagine this takes place on an afternoon. A sort of after-school-care situation where your classroom becomes a place for kids to have eyes kept on them before their parents come pick them up. König is a personal friend of yours, and when you’d mentioned wanting to finally get around to building the new playset you’d gotten for your classroom, he’s on it instantly. He has the afternoon free, he can accompany you. Think of it as a casual favour from a friend.

It’s one of those colourful plastic monstrosities, a little slide and steps with a little play sensory board on its side. The slide and the steps are something you can handle, just pop socket A into opening B and screw things in. But the sensory board has a ton of little fiddley pieces that need to be strung and slotted and put in right. Parts that spin and rattle and flip around- tons of fun for the little ones, but a pain to set up given the playset’s lacklustre instructions.

So there you are, sat at your desk, moving between your laptop and your notebook as you fix schedules and lesson plans. And across the room, giant figure hunched over, sits König. On the colourful city-themed rug, surrounded by little plastic tidbits as he gets the playset together.

He’s got that focus in his eyes, thick eyebrows knit together, a little scrunch over the hill of his nose. Entirely in his zone, every victory heralded by an excited ‘ah!’ or failure by a frustrated ‘bah.’ He hadn’t even noticed you staring at him, watching the way he scratched his stubble when he thought, or eyeing that dark hair peeking out from the wrist of his jumper.

You both notice, however, when a chubby little hand grabs for one of the segments on the ground next to him.

On instinct, your mouth opens, Teacher Voice ready to get the kid to let him be-

But it dies.

Because König snickers. “What are you doing, hm?”

The kid, with her big eyes and impressive head of unmanageable curls, looks up fast. She’s about four, and she holds the little segment in her fist like it was her birthright.

“Lellow is my favourite.” She replies. Indeed, the plastic she was thumbing was yellow.

König gives her a little lopsided grin. “Yellow? Your favourite?”

The little girl (Elsie, your mind finally supplies), nods, eyes settling on the other colourful blocks in front of König.

“I like yellow, too,” He murmurs. His voice is soft, the softest you’ve ever really heard it, a lilt to it.

Elsie nods again, shuffling. She kept her hands on the yellow piece.

König looks out over the pieces. Segments of a little rainbow spinner toy, meant to be strung together and then attached to the playset. A segment of which was currently being held hostage by a toddler.

He makes a soft hum in the back of the throat, a ‘hm’ sound of confusion, and Elsie looks up a slightly.

“Yellow. What comes after yellow..?” He mumbles, arranging the segments in front of him in different patterns. He huffs, furrowing his brow dramatically.

“Green.” Elsie supplies eventually, pointing to the green block. “Green after lellow.”

König’s frown breaks into a sunshine smile, “oh, you’re right! Yes. What after that?”

You watch with a warm feeling in your chest as Elsie plops herself down next to König. “Blue.” She nods matter-of-factly. She still has the yellow block in her grasp, but her previously hunched in shoulders have relaxed.

“Mhm, you’re right,” König nods, leaning back on his hands. “You’re good at this.”

Elsie makes a motion that almost looks like well, of course I am, before reaching out and organising the rest of the segments into rainbow order. Including the yellow one, setting it down between the orange and green.

“Thank you.” König says. He grabs the wooden rod that goes between the blocks, “could you put them all on this for me?”

Elsie nods again, grabbing all of the blocks and adding them onto the rod in the order she’d laid them out. She presents it to him with a proud puff or her chest.

König grins, congratulates her, and Elsie finally caves and cracks a giddy smile.

The floodgates are open from there. She goes from nervous fiddling to talking his ears off, acting as his ‘little helper’ as he continues with building the playset. He listens with nods and hums of affirmation, ‘oooh’s and ‘wow’s, and by the time Elsie’s parent comes to pick her up, she’s waving him off like she’d known him for years.

And he waves back, eyes crinkled at the corners.

When he looks at you, he huffs. “What?”

You’re grinning like a fool, chest blooming with joy, “you ever considered going into childcare?”

He scoffs, shaking his head and going back to his construction task. “I’m not good with kids.”

You break into laughter so loud he startles- but then König laughs along with you.

💖 I’m open for requests and commissions

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

The disparity between your Motley Crue section and GNR terrifies me, so as your seemingly one Nikki Sixx fan, I have come with a request.

Fluff.

I know, how terrible, how foul, how utterly depraved. But I almost never see fluff of this man & Jesus fuck does he deserve all the softness and comfort.

(I would not complain about smut, though seperately cause he is absolutely horrifically hot in the sense he's really pretty and sweet on the outside and then there's something dark swirling behind his eyes)

A/n: The difference is insane I get a little giggle out of it every time ngl

Warnings: Nikki cries but other than that it's fluff, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Nikki was a big name in a big city and craved attention, when you first started dating you didn't care, you still didn't really, but you did worry about him.

You tried getting him to open up more but it was pointless, he switched the topic or laughed it off. Eventually you gave up, when he was on stage he was having fun and when he was with you he was definitely having fun, but you just moved in together and it was new.

Nikki was used to being alone, he was always alone. He had his band, but once Motley got big there was no need sticking together all the time, and he grew up with his grandparents mostly but he was still relatively distant. Now you were around all the time, at shows, the bar, when he came home and when he left. That's not to say he hated it, he just wasn't used to it.

He came home one night after a show and dropped his stuff by the door, having planned to just crawl into bed but he saw you in the kitchen so he went there first. "What're you doing?" He asked, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You giggled when he kissed your cheek and returned it before speaking.

"Making dinner, why?" You asked, stirring the noodles in the pot. "Tired?" Nikki didn't respond, he was just stuck staring in the pot hugging you from behind. "Nikki?" You spoke again. When you didn't get a response you just left him, figuring he had had a long day or something of the sorts.

The radio was on in the background, Deep Purple came on. You weren't big on them but Nikki always liked them and you knew the song so you started humming along to it, swaying your hips as you did. Still no reaction from Nikki but he smile softly, you felt it against your neck as he watched you cook.

He got ingredients when you asked him to and helped with cleaning up as you went but if you didn't tell him to do something he was right behind you, giving you a squeeze here and there.

This felt different. Something was wrong. Very wrong. It's not that Nikki wasn't cuddly, per se, he definitely could be, something was just... wrong.

You sat down and ate, he said nothing. You finished cleaning up, nothing. Watching TV and getting ready for bed, still nothing, you even tempted him with lingerie but he barely batted an eye, only gave a wry chuckle and shook his head at you.

Nikki got into bed and laid down where he always did, head on his pillow, splayed out for you to cuddle up to. He stared at the ceiling while you stared at him, thinking for a moment.

Nikki looked to you, a brow raised in curiosity. "What're you doing?" He asked just as he had earlier.

You let out a heavy sigh and crossed your arms over your chest, resting your weight on one side. "You're acting weird." You stated. Nikki thought for a moment and then laid his head back, giving the spot next to him a small pat.

You did as he silently asked and got in, but you paused as you did. Instead of curling up against him you copied his position, didn't even use his arm as a pillow like you did every other night.

Nikki gave you a sideways look and waited for you to roll up into him, but you didn't. "Are you mad at me?" He asked finally, his voice much too soft for your liking. It was weird, all of it, nothing was normal. He could be sweet, sure, but this wasn't sweet soft, this was 'did I mess up again?' soft and you didn't like the look in his eyes.

"No, I'm not, of course I'm not mad at you." You said, reaching over to cup his face in your hand. "It's your turn to cuddle tonight." He raised a brow at you but seemed to understand pretty quick when you pulled him closer. Nikki was big and strong and happy with that so he was always the big spoon, if you were on the couch you were laying on top of him, it didn't matter the setting.

He let his head fall on your chest, your arms wrapping around him and rubbing his back. You tried to remember the tune of the song you were humming along to earlier and started again, letting him listen to it and your heartbeat, putting him to sleep.

Only he didn't sleep, you heard sniffles coming from him and quickly went to check on him. Nikki shook his head and pushed his face further into you, hiding. You wanted to push him on it, get him to tell you what was wrong so you could help but instead just let him cry into you while you held and comforted him until he finally fell asleep.

It's what he did for you, and you could be his pillow every now and then if it made him feel better.

[pineconepie]

parental yandere guardian angel perhaps?? 👀

TW: Violence, infantilization, mentioned stalking(?), parental yandere, alcohol, attempted mugging

...

You drag out a long sigh, not bothering to look the presence you know is next to you in the eye. For days he's been following you around like some puppy looking for attention, and you're more than tired of it.

"I do not like these bars," Seradiel murmurs. "There's all sorts of harmful people around. Are you trying to make my job harder?"

"A pointless job, might I add," you chuckle humorlessly. "You don't need to watch after me like I'm some baby. And for the record, you don't need to be sitting next to me 24/7, either."

At first, you thought Seradiel was crazy when he claimed to be your guardian angel, but ever since you nearly got ran over from not looking both ways on the street, the dude had been following you everywhere like some sort of shadow.

He said he had been guarding over you ever since you were a newborn, but decided to make his presence known ever since that incident.

He would appear out of nowhere in your house while you were sleeping and making sure you're breathing right, or follow you on walks, protecting you from any potential danger.

Seradiel's frown deepens. "Either way, you won't approve. If I watch you from afar, you claim that's creepy; but if I make myself known, you get annoyed."

You give Seradiel a pointed look. "That's because most people don't have an angel follow them around all the time."

He shakes his head. "That isn't true. Everyone has an angel. Some are just less dedicated than I am."

A groan escapes you. What kind of excuse is that?

You wave him off. "Can you at least, I don't know, sit at another table? The waiters keep looking our way since they can't see you and probably think I'm talking to myself like a crazy person."

"No, they can see me. I just don't have wings in anyone else's vision," he claims. "They're probably giving funny looks because of our conversation."

"Whatever," you mutter under your breath. "Why are you so dedicated, as you claim?"

He ruffles your hair. "Because you're like my baby. Sure, you may have biological parents, but even they don't share the same kind of connection with you as I do. After all, I've been watching over you ever since your first moments of life. I've spent more time with you than anyone else on this Earth has. And you were such a sweet child. Sometimes I wonder if you miss those days as much as I do."

"Not at all," you mutter, even though that isn't true at all. "So you just watched me my whole life?"

"Of course. Therefore, you are essentially like my child. And no good parent would allow their child to wander around such a sketchy establishment like this." He motions towards the dimly lit, rather unimpressive bar.

"Any good parent would let their adult child do what they please, because they're an adult." You take another sip from your cup. The liquid burns your throat going down, and you almost immediately feel drowsier and more light-headed. Seradiel yanks the cup away from you. "Hey! What the hell, I paid for that!" You reach for it back.

"You've had too much already," he scolds. "Now let's leave." He grabs your hand and leads you out. With you stumbling after him, you finally make it onto the street outside and head home.

The walk is silent other than your occasional hiccup. But every few minutes, Seradiel makes sure you're still lucid.

"Just leave me alone," you whine. "Please. I want just a minute of independence, I can't do anything without you hovering over me! Is that too much to ask?"

Seradiel's eyes narrow. "Is that so?" Without warning, he lets go of your hand. "Fine. If you'd like to be a brat, we can play your game."

He disappears in an instant. Despite the fact that you were begging for him to stop being so clingy, you find yourself strangely unsettled at his departure, as if something's missing.

Nonetheless, you decide to ignore it; he'll come back eventually.

You continue your drunken stumble back home.

However, you barely make it another block before you hear the sound of footsteps behind you.

Normally you would've ignored it, but combined with how late it was and how sketchy the bar itself was, you pick up your pace. Whoever was behind you speeds up also.

Now more than nervous, you start running, not caring about how lightheaded you felt and how awful your body ached.

Whoever was following you started running after you now, and in the dead silence of night you can hear their rapid steps thumping against the ground.

Their heavy breathing rings through the air, and your heart drops when you realize they were gaining on you.

Before you knew it, a firm hand wrapped around your arm, yanking you to a stop.

The person has a knife, dressed in all black clothing, looking eerily similar to someone who was ready to commit murder.

"Empty your wallet now," he hisses. "And don't make any noise. If you try to scream, I'll cut off your fucking tongue."

You scramble to empty your wallet. There isn't much money in there, which just pisses him off.

"That's it? That can't be all you have," he snarls. He backhands you in anger, causing you to stumble back. You rub your face where he struck you, crawling backwards as he rummages through your things himself. However, he only finds a couple pieces of gum. He looks even more angered by this outcome, reaching for his knife again.

"Seradiel!" you cry out, shutting your eyes tight. "I'm sorry! Please help me!"

Suddenly, there's a gust of wind. Your eyes fly open, and in front of you is none other than Seradiel. He stands tall, looming over your mugger with his white wings stretching out like a curtain to conceal you. His golden hair shines in the moonlight. Although usually calm, his demeanor has completely changed.

His eyes are now slit into furious daggers glaring straight ahead at your mugger.

"What the hell..." the man mutters.

With no words, Seradiel reaches forward and grabs the assailant by the neck, throwing him across the road and into a wall like the assailant is merely paper trash.

Seradiel begins to stalk towards the mugger, who's coughing violently from the impact. "I usually hold empathy for criminals like yourself; just trying to survive. But then you decided to try and hurt my child," Seradiel growls. You've never seen such fury radiating from his usually calm appearance. He looks more than capable of murdering the mugger then and there.

The assailant scrambles backwards, attempting to stand. Unfortunately for him, before he can rise Seradiel is upon him again. The angel knocks the mugger off their feet and kicks them, sending them flying backwards.

He grabs the knife he dropped, twirling it between his fingers.

"Hmm. Should I kill him?" Seradiel asks, turning towards you. He doesn't even look remorseful. On the contrary, he looks emotionless; he doesn't care if the criminal lives or dies. It was like he was asking you to pass him salt on the dinner table.

"No," you whisper. "Please don't. I just want to go home. Let's just go home, please."

"Alright. As long as he apologizes." He turns back to the assailant. "Well?"

The attacker sobs and nods. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry! I'll never do it again!"

"And give them back their belongings," Seradiel adds.

The mugger obliges and hands all your belongings back to the angel. Once Seradiel steps aside, he scrambles away until you can't see him anymore.

He turns to face you again, his expression immediately softening. You instinctively take a step back. Seeing him switch demeanors so quickly is shocking.

"My love," Seradiel murmurs softly. "I told you it wasn't safe here. Are you okay?" He approaches you cautiously. He takes out his handkerchief to dab the bleeding scratch on your cheek. Then he inspects you, making sure you haven't sustained any other injuries. "See what happens when you walk alone? This is why I need to watch over you at all times. Does that not make sense to you yet?"

He puts his arms underneath your legs and back, picking you up. You bury your face in his robes.

"I don't like bars," you mumble quietly. "I promise I won't go to another one."

"Not just bars. Everywhere is dangerous. It's a good thing I'm your guardian angel; the world would eat you alive otherwise," he mumbles. "Oh, little lamb. What will Papa do with you?" He kisses the top of your head while carrying you.

It's not the first time he's referred to himself as that word. Papa.

In some ways, it makes sense; he does act very fatherly and treats you like his baby.

Still, you have mixed feelings about him. You still can't wipe the vision from your mind of him brutally beating up your mugger just minutes ago.

"Aren't angels against violence?" you rasp.

He shakes his head. "Not in cases such as those. Angels protect others. Most just happen to use violence as the last resort. And I will always protect my children."

"How many children do you have?"

"You're the only one," Seradiel coos. "And trust me, I love you very much. I hope this was a valuable lesson for you."

You fall into silence once again, clutching his robes.

When you finally arrive home, he opens the door for you. "Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"...thank you, for protecting me," you mutter under your breath.

He gives you a smile, but it's far from gentle. No, it looks almost... proud, victorious. "Of course. Just remember that I'll always be here to keep you safe."