#hi friends' it is 2:30am right now

[achilles-rage]

Cookies

summary: you and buck bake cookies at 3am.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: hey... how y'all doing... i am finally making my comeback!! if you missed my post from yesterday (i answered a bunch of asks so now it's pretty far down there), i'm gonna be posting again, but probably less regularly. i've been stressing myself out i think by feeling the need to post a fic every 2/3 days, otherwise i feel like shit, so i'm trying to get away from that mindset, so i hope that less fics are okay!! i love and appreciate you guys so much!! anyway, enjoy<33

warnings: none, purely fluff, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

The light from the fridge casts a light across Buck’s face, harshly contrasting the dim light coming from the television as he opens the door to grab the ingredients he needs. 

“The butter needs to be room temperature,” he tells you sadly, glancing in your direction as he places the eggs and butter on the kitchen island. Your legs are dangling off the counter as you watch his every move, the cool counter pressing against the backs of your thighs in a way that makes you shiver in your sleepy state. 

It’s late; 2:30am the last time you checked, and you and Buck had the silly idea to pull an all-nighter, since you both have a few days off of work. Just like you used to do with your friends when you were kids.

“I’m sure they’ll be just as good. And, a lot better than store bought cookie dough,” you tell him with a soft laugh, rolling your eyes. 

Honestly, you’re just glad Buck has agreed to bake cookies for you this late. While you were watching a movie, the main character was making cookies, and suddenly you needed chocolate chip cookies. Like, immediately.

"Definitely better,” he says with a smirk, giving you a wink before pulling out the rest of the ingredients from the cupboards.

He helped you onto the counter before he began his work, telling you that he wanted to make them for you, and that all he needed from you was to sit there, look pretty, and keep him company. And with a face like that, how could you say no?

You watch as he measures out his dry ingredients, then mixes everything together, but he pauses every so often to give you gentle kisses, the ends of his curly hair tickling your forehead each time. When his hands aren’t somehow all sticky from the dough – you quickly learned how messy of a baker he was when you first started dating – he’d place a hand on your thigh, taking comfort in the warmth of your skin and the fact that he could feel the goosebumps under his palm. He always knows that you’re sleepy because you get cold, and your skin erupts in goosebumps.

“What do you think you’d be doing right now if we never met?” you ask quietly after a few moments of silence. He looks up at you from his bowl with furrowed brows, tilting his head to the side. 

“Is this the beginning of a breakup conversation?” he replies in a slightly teasing tone, although you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he studies your expression, and your body language, and your eyes.

Your eyes soften, and you immediately shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile as you hold your hand out. He reaches out for it, not letting it hang in the air for longer than a second or two, and lets you pull him forward until his body is positioned right between your legs, although with his hands all doughy, he opts to place his wrist under your palm.

“Baby, I have absolutely no intention of breaking up with you anytime soon. I was just thinking. How different would our lives be if we never met?” you say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your hands dangle behind his head as his lay on the counter on either side of you, making sure not to get your pajamas dirty from the dough covering his hands.

“They’d be very different. I’d be fast asleep right now, that’s for sure,” he teases with a cheeky smile. You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. It may have been your idea to pull an all-nighter, but he happily agreed that it would be fun. You didn’t even have to try to convince him.

“I’m serious,” you say with a laugh, leaning forward slightly, “I don’t know what I’d do if I never met you.” Your voice is softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. You met Buck purely by chance, and you still think it’s a miracle that he took interest in you, despite him thinking the exact same thing about you.

“I’d be looking for you,” he says after a moment, shrugging as if it’s that simple. And to him, it is. 

Your eyes soften, and your head tilts to the side as your throat suddenly gets tight with your growing emotions.

“For me?” you ask in a teasing, yet slightly disbelieving tone, and he shrugs again with a nod. There’s no hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’d be looking for someone who makes me happy, and who knows what I need without me even having to think to ask, and who is so beautiful that I can’t even believe that they’re with me. So, yeah, you.” You smile, feeling your face heat up. You can practically feel the love radiating from the deepest part of him and into your chest, and while your entire body suddenly feels warm, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Suddenly, you’re not so tired anymore.

“I’d be looking for you, too,” you reply, feeling tears prick your eyes as you lean forward and let your forehead rest against his. Buck has to keep a sliver of his mind occupied on not putting his hands on you, no matter how much he wants to feel your soft skin under his fingers. He wishes he washed his hands before coming over to you, but he wouldn’t have dared to let your hand stay raised in the air longer than a split second, just like he wouldn’t dare to part from you right now.

“Yeah?” he whispers, breathing in the faint scent of your body wash now that he’s so close. He wants to touch you so bad, and his self-restraint is wearing thin.

“Mhm. Except maybe without the snoring. I’ve never heard anyone that sleeps so loud.” You match his tone, letting out a soft laugh as he suddenly pulls his face back with a scoff, his brow raised and a smirk growing on his lips.

“Really? Because I seem to remember getting a text a few days ago saying that someone thought it was too quiet to sleep while I was at work,” he challenges, his eyes moving down to your lips for a second before moving back up to meet your gaze, the smug smirk still plastered to his face as you fight back a smile.

“I sent that in a moment of weakness,” you argue quietly, pursing your lips to stop the grin from making its way onto your face.

“Hey, come on, don’t pretend you don’t love it,” he continues, his hands now raised off of the counter and hanging in the air. They’re dangerously close to your waist; if he could touch you, he’d be tempted to tickle your sides to see that gorgeous smile grace your face, but he holds back. Instead, they just remain frozen, almost able to feel the warmth radiating from your soft body.

“I plead the fifth,” you tell him, reaching down and grabbing his wrists. You saw them out of the corner of your eye, full of dough and dangerously close to your pajama top, and the last thing you want to do is go upstairs and change.

You hold his wrists out between your bodies, and all Buck does is chuckle, rolling his eyes and murmuring a soft “brat” before leaning in and catching your lips in an intoxicating kiss. 

In the heat of the moment, you let go of Buck’s wrists, instead grabbing onto his hoodie and pulling him closer to you while your legs wrap around his waist, and he lets his hands go up to your cheeks. Neither of you notice at first, despite the sweet smell of brown sugar filling your nostrils, and he deepens the kiss, letting his lips work in tandem with yours as he savours the feel and taste of your mouth on his. 

Your noses brush against each other as you tilt your heads, and a low hum escapes Buck’s throat as his tongue meets yours when you part your lips. All you can focus on is each other as the oven beeps behind you, signalling that it’s time to put your cookies in, and Buck’s stubble scratches your face in a way that makes your head spin. You’re pretty sure the fire alarm could go off right now, and you still wouldn’t part from him.

You finally have to pull away to catch your breath, and when you do, you finally notice that your cheeks are now sticky. You giggle softly, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset with Buck about it. Not when he just kissed you like his life depended on it.

“Finish my cookies, Buckley,” you whisper after a moment of looking into each other's eyes, and then he finally pulls away from you, immediately missing the feeling of your thick thighs wrapped around him.

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, then dumps the chocolate chips into the mixture before mixing, humming in approval when they’re fully combined.

You take this time to wash the dough off your skin; not bothering to go upstairs to actually wash your face, rather merely using a wet paper towel over the sink to wipe off the residue. You know you’ll regret it later, but right now, you wouldn’t dream of being that far away from Buck. Not when the soft light from the tv mixes with the overhead oven light, and the soft sound coming from the credits of the movie envelopes the main floor of Buck’s loft and makes you feel so safe and calm.

When the cookies are in the oven, Buck helps raise you back up onto your spot on the counter, then makes himself at home between your legs, wrapping his arms around your plush middle and resting his head comfortably on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders immediately, letting him melt into you as you wait for the timer. The steady feeling of his breath on your skin makes you feel even more at ease, if at all possible.

You don’t talk for those 10 minutes; you just bask in each other's presence. It’s past 3am now, you’re sure of it, but neither of you care. All you care about is how good it feels to be in Buck’s arms, and to know that you’ve found someone to bake cookies with in the middle of the night, just because you felt like it. Someone to bake cookies for you despite being so tired. Just because he loves you so deeply.

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[mattsfavoritestar]

RIGHT HERE , chris sturniolo

midnight snack mini series.

synopsis... you were delusional enough to believe him when he said that he belonged to only you. fed up as one can be, you ghost him for almost a week with the success of not breaking no contact. unfortunately for you, chris always finds a way.

warnings... mean!chris, bbsf!chris, toxic!chris, kinda possesive!chris mentions of drug usage, lowkey manipulation, gaslighting, oral (fem receiving), orgasm denial, starts off angsty

word count... 1488

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

“chris?”

“chris are you even listening to me?”

“chris!”

his head turned to you with a lazy smile on his face. his eyes were blown out and red from the edible he took prior to your arrival. “I heard you the first time” he says. he wasn’t even taking you seriously right now. that promise he made about only being yours? a lie. you were stupid enough to even believe that someone like chris could even change.

one too many females came to you as a woman with receipts of an all too familiar pair of blue eyes in each picture. the same blue eyes that weren’t even focused on you even though he was looking right at you. he sighed, “can’t blame me for wanting attention when you can’t even give me a damn day” he grumbled. you felt that familiar burn in your eyes. how dare he say you don’t give him enough? you’ve risked your relationship with your brother countless times for this. for him.

“you know what? i’m done. clearly, you’re not even mentally here right now” you say as you prepare to leave. chris watched you with a blank expression as you gathered your things quietly with an occasional face wipe with your sleeve. as you walked out his room you made sure to hide all notifications from him in case he decides to try calling you later. you didn’t even bother asking matt for a ride, too embarrassed by his brother leaving you humiliated yet again.

with more room on your schedule, you finally had time to sit down and hang out with your friends. you guys were talking about the events that happened the past few days and planning future events. it’s been a week since you’ve spoken to or even seen chris. every time your brother would bring him home; you made an effort to leave the house or stay quiet in your room. 

your phone buzzed with an incoming call from your brother. you excused yourself from the room and answered. “hey, uh chris is gonna pick you up later.” he says. you internally groaned as you shut your eyes. “why? and he doesn’t even have a car” you responded. you heard your brother laugh on the other side. “i’m staying the night at lina’s house, and he shares the car with matt and nick idiot,” your brother explains. “more like matt’s car” you mutter as the line disconnects. you unmute chris’s messages and were met with 13 notifications from him.

sat @ 2:30am:

5 missed called from DO NOT RESPOND

message from DO NOT RESPOND: answer me

sun @ 5pm:

3 messages from DO NOT RESPOND

tue @ 8:35pm: 

2 missed facetimes from DO NOT RESPOND

yesterday @ 12am:

1 missed call from DO NOT RESPOND

today 10 mins:

message from DO NOT RESPOND: im omw 

you go back into the room where your friends were and sit down with a sigh. “what’s the matter babe?” one of them asked. you shake your head with a smile, “nothing don’t worry ‘bout it” you say. the next fifteen minutes filled with giggles and gossiping. then your peace was interrupted by the blaring bass of lil skies vibrating the walls. you groan out loud then apologize before letting your friends know of your departure.

you mentally battled yourself into what you were going to say or if you should say anything at all as you walked up to the car. chris didn’t even glance into your direction as you opened the door. ‘okay so silence it is’ you thought to yourself. the entire ride was filled with tension and vibrations from the speaker. 

as you exited the car, you felt your heartbeat pick up as the engine turned off. your brother wasn’t home and chris was right behind you clearly pissed off. you said nothing as you entered your house and beelined straight for your room. you were so focused on trying to avoid him that you didn’t register the sound of his heavy footsteps growing louder. just as you reached the door, you were pushed against it before you could even open it.

“back to not talking to me?” he whispers into your ear. you pinched your mouth into a straight line. your breath hitched as you felt his fingers trail along your lower body. “i called you by the way.” he adds as he plays with the hem of your shirt. as calm as he sounded you knew better than to trust the tone of his voice. “you interrupted my time with my friends,” you say through gritted teeth.

an annoyed chuckle fell from his lips. “baby i don’t give a fuck about your ‘friends’” he spat. his hands find your hips and pull you back onto his lower half. you scoff, “do you even remember why i avoided you?” you ask. you were turned around to face him. “i wasn’t that high,” he mumbles. you roll your eyes before opening your bedroom door and pulling away from him. chris watches you take your pants off before sitting on your bed and grabbing your tv remote. 

he walks over then crawls on top of you, places scattered kisses on your neck. “chris- no outside clothes” you whined as you tried pushing him off. “m’sorry baby” he says between kisses. you tried to pay no attention to him but could help melting at his touch. “let me make it up to you, yeah?” he says as his fingers slightly dip into the rim of your panties. his lips caught yours with a deep groan. you felt yourself lowering back onto the bed while your hands found themselves tangled in his curls. 

a gasp left your lips at the feeling of his finger nudging your clit. his lips grew more demanding, your head felt fuzzy at the lack of air. you pulled away from his lips with a strangled moan as his fingers dipped inside you. chris bit his lip with a smirk to your reaction. he then slowly lowered himself till his head was met with your pelvis. he planted a kiss onto your clit as he stroked your gummy walls.

you let out a strangled loud moan when he curled his fingers upward, barely brushing your g-spot. “doesn’t my apology feel so good, baby?” he asks. you give him a moan in response as your hips buck into his face, earning another kiss onto your clit. “think it’s time you gave me your apology now” he says before removing his fingers. 

you whine as you sit up on your elbows and look at him through your glossed eyes. “but i didn’t do anything” you state as he tugs your panties off. “i went almost a full week being ignored,” he spat. you already knew he was pissed off but you still weren’t prepared to face it. “but chris you-“ you were cut off with your own strangled moan as you felt his warm mouth completely enraptured you.

“told you it wasn’t my fault n’yet you still left me” he grumbles before making a heavy stripe with his tongue. your legs were folded and pushed up towards your chest with his head between them. you couldn’t even try to escape his mouth since his hands had a tight grip on your waist. his tongue prodded at your hole and his teeth grazed your clit. you tugged at his hair, each pull harsher than the last. mixtures of moans and apologies fell from your lips.

“s’my pussy?” he asked through a muffled voice, you nodded with a mewl in response. chris detaches his mouth from your aching heat only to replaced it with his fingers. he gave you rapid strokes as his mouth fell open with a smile as if he was mocking your moans. you turned your head to the side with a whine with your stomach feeling tighter by the second. “so close, yeah? gonna make a mess f’me?” he cooed.

you nodded your head; you felt his fingers go faster by the second. chris catches you off guard with a tug at your jaw as he forces you to look at him. his lips glossed with your arousal and his hair disheveled from your tugging. he gives you a sinister smile before roughly pulling his fingers out of you. before you could protest, he shoved those same fingers into your mouth. you felt tears of frustration brimming your water line and drops of drool mixed with your own fluids falling from your mouth.

“awe, d’you really think i’d let you cum that easily baby?” he asks in a mocking tone. you gurgled around his fingers as if you were trying to complain. chris shoves them deeper into your mouth causing you to slightly gag.” you can later if you don’t piss me off” he smiles. he roughly flips you on to your stomach. with a slap to your ass, you couldn’t help but arch your back with a whine. “s’gonna be a long night baby” he chuckles.

[sapphic-smau]

‧˚₊ ⊹ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹ ‧˚₊ ꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦‧₊˚⊹ ‧˚₊

|Pairings: Lucy Chen x Fem!reader; Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen x Fem!Reader platonic friendship. | Rating: M | TW: Pregnancy, police work, violence, cussing, drinking, implied smut. | Word Count:

an: here is the first of many SMAU’s, I hope you guys like it. Before Requesting, Please read my guidelines. REQUEST ARE OPEN.

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| part 1 | part 2 |

18+ MINORS DNI

‧˚₊ ⊹ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹ ‧˚₊ ꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦‧₊˚⊹ ‧˚₊

—————————————————————————-

I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing, my wife’s legs were tangled with mine and since there was no light coming through the window I knew it had to be my phone. “turn your phone off before it wakes up El, it took me forever to get her down last night” Lucy groaned before turning away from me. I grabbed the phone and answered “This is Chen” the line was silent before I heard someone clear their throat, “Wait did I call the wrong Officer? Is this K9 Chen?” I groaned, “yep this is she, what can I do for you.” “We need a K-9 unit on stand by and Sgt. Grey said to call you.” I sat up and prepared to start my day at 1:30am. “Give me 15 minutes and I’ll head in.” I hung up the phone and leaned over kissing Lucy on the head. Thankfully when we bought the house our closest is in our bathroom which means we don’t wake each other up on days like this.

I threw on my uniform, my vest, and my rig belt, opened the safe and grabbed my service weapon. When I was fixing my hair the door opened and a very sleepy Lucy was staring at me, “Did we actually think being parents and both being on patrol would be easy? Plus you being on call 24/7. Tell Grey to hire another K-9.” I chuckled lightly, “Right, because Grey listens to me. On the other hand, we do have a really cute kid, so sleepless nights are worth it.” When Lucy finished using the bathroom she walked over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, I could smell the scent of her shampoo. “I have to go my love.” I smiled and gave her a quick kiss. She groaned loudly and went back to bed.

I walked quietly into my daughter’s room and kissed her on the forehead. I heard my K-9 Rocky standing up in his kennel, I bent down and opened the door letting him out. I clipped on his vest and his collar, “let’s go buddy.” I grabbed my backpack and my water bottle, and walked out the door to head to the detail.

———————————————————————————-

I met Lucy, Juarez, Lopez, Harper, Nolan and Bradford at our local diner near the station. When I parked I saw my wife and best friend talking outside near the entrance, walking up I heard Lucy say “I just think we should have one more while El is still young enough to be able to play with the new baby!” Juarez chuckled “getting her to sign off on that will be tough, after your pregnancy with El and the delivery scare I don’t know if she will ever recover from that.” I cleared my throat once I was close enough, and kissed Lucy on the cheek. “Let’s go eat.”

I zoned out at the table as there were 4 different conversations happening. Is she serious about wanting another baby…? "Babe, hello, earth to my wife.." I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at Lucy's worried face, "Hm?" I looked around the table at our friends staring at me, "What's wrong?" Juarez raised her eyebrow. I smiled "Sorry, i was thinking about how tired I am right now." Bradford laughed "Fuck off Bradford." I flipped him off. Lucy rested her hand on my upper thigh, "Tim be nice, also can you take El this weekend? I would like to have my wife back after all of these extra hours." Tim looked at Lucy and I smirking, "holy shit, Chen actually talked you into having another baby didn't she?" I could tell my face was red, I looked over at Lucy and smiled, "we are still talking about it."

Angela, Celina, Nyla, and Tim were all talking about the idea of us having another baby when a shots fired call came over our radios. I took out a hundred-dollar bill and tossed it on the table, as all five of us took off running out of the door. I stopped dead in my tracks when a scream came over the radio, "Officer Down."

Fuck.

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Taglist:

[jeonqkooks]

to the loml, my beloved, may i play in the event game? hehe ;u; i would like your take on yoongi + "did i say that out loud?" + "stop looking at me like that!" ♡

i love you and congratulations again, jen oi ♡ muah~

sunlit sunday. (myg)

pairing: yoongi x reader prompts: "did i say that out loud?" + "stop looking at me like that!" genre/warnings: best friends to lovers (?), college au, fluff; mentions of drinking, barely edited word count: 1.1k note: i do not know what this is, nor why it took me over half a year to finish this drabble. cee my love you sent this ask in august 2022 and it took me literally forever to post i'm sorry 😭

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

The sun is already rising, but poor Yoongi hasn’t slept a wink. Partly because he can’t feel his left arm from where it’s being used as your makeshift pillow, partly because last night you told him you were in love with him and proceeded to pass the fuck out.

There was a party - there’s always a party every weekend when you’re in college - that Yoongi didn’t even want to go to. He just wanted to spend his Saturday night holed up in his apartment with you, pizzas and a movie. It gives him something to look forward to at the end of every week, partly because he's nothing if not a creature of habit, but mostly because he gets to spend time with you alone.

But tonight, you wanted to attend, and it didn’t take a whole lot of convincing for Yoongi to (begrudgingly) accompany you to a frat house on campus to spruce up your weekly routine. He would always complain, but you both know that he’d do anything you ask.

That's why he didn't really have anybody else to blame when he found himself having to tuck a very intoxicated you into an unfamiliar bed at 2:30AM in this greasy frat house. It wasn't exactly the best idea, but it was the only one he had. Yoongi wasn't exactly sober, and you were too drunk for him to haul you home.

You babbled nonsense the whole time he was peeling off your shoes and outer layers so you could sleep more comfortably. It was difficult - you're a squirmy drunk - but he managed in the end. When it comes to you, Yoongi has had years of experience, having known you from your early high school days together and being inseparable ever since.

He had gotten under the covers with you, about to try and coax you to sleep when you sighed dreamily at the ceiling, looking so content with whatever thoughts in your head that it felt like you could float away.

"I'm in love with Yoongi," you said, so softly that Yoongi wasn't sure if he heard you right. But even in the midst of tipsy uncertainty, his heart went berserk like it was going to run away from his body. Then you popped the ringing bubble in his head with a sharp giggle, uncaring, so oblivious. "Stop looking at me like that! Did I say that out loud?"

He didn't know what to say, even though it didn't really matter anyway. You weren't in a state of mind to comprehend everything he wanted to ask, everything he wanted to say to you. Yoongi kept his eyes on you while you kept yours on the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"You did," he muttered, averting his eyes, and you tittered again.

"Don't tell him." You turned to look at him with a finger pressed against your lips. He wasn't sure who you thought you were talking to but he didn't correct you; there was no point in doing so anyway. "It's supposed to be a secret."

He doesn't remember what he said next, if he even said anything at all. Though it doesn't matter because you promptly passed out afterward, and it's unlikely that you'll remember any of it when you wake up.

Everything from then until now is just a jumbled mess to Yoongi, his thoughts full of what the fuck's and his chest full of borderline painful palpitations every time you snuggle further into his warmth, seeking comfort in your sleep.

The thing is, he knows that you were being honest. You meant it, because you're nothing if not an honest drunk; you've disclosed your fair share of embarrassing secrets whilst under the influence before. But never would Yoongi expect to hear those very specific words coming from your mouth, words that reflect the same sentiment that he's been trying to profess to you for years now.

They rolled off your tongue, just like that.

If he's being honest, it wounds him a little bit. He's spent hundreds and hundreds of days thinking about the perfect way to phrase his affection for you and yet, you managed to spill your feelings out without a single care in the world.

Granted, you were drunk out of your mind, but still.

Eventually, you stir from your slumber when blinding sunlight slips through the cracks between the curtains. Yoongi watches you frown before your eyes are even open, then you try to stretch for a brief moment as you look around the strange bedroom, partly alarmed, partly confused.

When your gaze finally lands on him, he catches the way your eyes soften, the edges of your confusion melting away even though he doubts that the sight of him answered any of the questions in your head.

"Morning," you say, your voice heavy with sleep.

"Morning," Yoongi replies quietly.

You share a look, one that means completely different things for the both of you. You're probably hungover, and Yoongi is in love.

So in love that he doesn't even care to berate you for making him spend the night in a random bedroom in a disgusting frat house, where a pair of (likely dirty) boxers is casually chilling draped over a chair. So in love that it expels all sense of fatigue from his body until the only thing coursing through his veins is unfiltered fondness for you and the way your eyes crinkle when you smile.

So in love that he would wait until you're awake enough to ask him to walk you home, ask him to make you your favorite hangover breakfast while you take a long, hot shower to feel like a human being again. He'd wait until you're fed and caffeinated before joining you on the couch, prepared to kill the remaining hours of the day together. So in love that he'd only wait until that moment to tell you the things he's always wanted to say, the things that have always been on the tip of his tongue but he's never been brave enough to utter them to you.

He'd tell you what you need to hear, albeit with a bruised ego that you beat him to the punch but he'd pretend that you didn't. It's a secret shared between only Yoongi and the four walls of this bedroom.

He's so in love that he would endure staying up all night in this dump when he could've been in his own bed, comfortable and clean and cozy. But it's okay because it's Sunday and the sun is out, and you were the one sleeping peacefully next to him, despite how your head made his arm go numb. It's okay because love has a tendency to make awful things feel better, even if love is only stored in a set of sleepy eyes staring at Yoongi and a whiny voice asking to go home.

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 10.03.2024]

[evie-sturns]

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

part 2 (part 1 here)

summary: you and your best-friend matt, have decided to sign up to be a summer camp counsellor for your school's summer project! will you two stay as just friends? or will this summer turn out different for you guys.

a/n: theres going to be smut in the next part, hope you guys like this, read part 1 first, linked at the top! fuck danielle

contains: swearing, fighting (physical at some points), kissing/making out

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abrubtly matt pulls away, he saw me. his face drops as dani stares at me. my heart thumps as i freeze. matt tries to walk over to me, but its too late, i've already took off in the other direction.

i've found myself in the empty staff bathrooms, hiding in the stalls. matthew wasted my time, i spent half the fucking roadtrip up here comforting him, then he goes and makes out with her a few hours later?

i can't even understand why im feeling like this, why am i so.. jealous?

the door to the bathrooms swing open, probably matt, coming to explain himself.

"hey, come out of the stall please." a female voice calls out, "who's this sorry?" i say, still on the verge of tears.

"danielle."

my breath hitches in my throat, before i swallow hard. "oh." i mumble, unlocking my stall. im met with her face, shes still wearing the same outfit she was wearing while kissing my best friend.

she suddenly interupts my thoughts, "look, i don't know who the fuck you think you are? but don't go snooping into me and matts personal business, unfortunately hes mine." she says while crossing her arms, i scoff.

"funny you say that, because the whole car ride up here matt's been dreading seeing you, his exact words were, 'fucking hate her' so if i were you i'd back away hm?" i say in a 'sympathetic' tone.

she clenches her fist, running her spare hand through her dark brown bob before smashing her fist into the side of my face.

"what the actual fuck!" i yell before jumping at her, throwing her to the floor. the next 5 minutes are a blur of screaming, punching, hair pulling before she gets pulled off of me.

its jessie, the owner of the fucking camp.

she looks pissed.

(15 minutes later)

ive been sitting alone in the nurses office for 10 minutes, its now 11:30pm, i have to be awake in 7 hours for breakfast setup.

the door to the room im in swings open.

its matthew.

"y/n, are you okay? i heard what happened" he says frantically, sititng down on the chair beside the medical bed.

"oh please matt, dont act like you care." i mutter out.

"what?" he says cluelessly.

"look, go find out how danielles doing, oh! or you could fuck her while your there, go back to your cabin with her!" i yell, matts eyes widen as he looks at me.

"we aren't sharing a cabin, im with lincoln, shes with paige." he mumbles as he fidgets with his hands.

i laugh out of disbelief before standing up, pushing past him out of the room im in before swinging open the door to the nurses office.

the cold night air hits my fresh wounds as i approach my cabin, the lights are on inside meaning Xavier is still awake. i swing open the door, xaviers face drops "babe what the fuck happened!" he says, running up to me and hugging me, "danielle happened." i sniff as he lets me go.

"you gotta get some rest, we're helping the kids do kayaking tomorrow okay? gotta be up at 6:30." he whispers, as he pulls the covers down on my bed, letting me crawl in.

(6:30am the next day.)

a loud honk blares through the campsite, before jessie on the megaphone starts "shark counsellers! the shark kids are lined up outside the breakfast hall, go help out in the kitchen"

i groan, my face still throbbing from dani's punches. xaivers sits up in the bed opposite me, "you feeling better.." he says, his voice raspy.

i nod, "mhm, not too excited about dealing with about 25 nine year olds." i mumble getting out of bed "you'll be right, theres 6 of us to control them we'll do it." he says optimistically.

i finish up getting changed, tying my hair into two braids. "you coming?" i say, looking at xaiver over my shoulder.

the hall is only a few hundred meters away from the staff cabins, which is now filled with 200 children. matt and lincoln are walking through the doors, dani and paige follow close behind them, too close for my liking.

i step inside, the smell of oatmeal fills my nose as i look around, theres countless tables filled with friend groups, in the back corner matts sitting alone on the last empty table, picking at his dry toast. i sigh loudly before walking over to him, he looks up at me, his eyes are puffy and red, he looks upset.

i sit down opposite him, his breathing picks up before he starts unannouced,

"dani and i.. have hated eachother since middle school. when i saw you get into your cabin with xavier i got fucking jealous. hate to admit it but i did. while i was walking towards my cabin dani approached me, she started touching up on my arms before pulling me off the path into the bushes. she kissed me, i don't know why i kissed her back, i think it was a jealousy thing, i wanted to get back at you?"

he sighs loudly as silence grows.

"look y/n, i really like you, and-" hes cut off by jessie on her fucking megaphone.

"helloooo campers! this is the first official day of summer camp and here are what each group is doing today!, crabs are doing rock climbing, which means it is mandatory to wear closed toe shoes. Sharks will be doing kayaking, please wear your swimsuit and your counsellers will take you down to the lake!"

i barely take in what jessie says, the only thing i'm thinking about is matt's previous sentence

look y/n i really like you.

look y/n i really like you.

(20 minutes later)

we've been sitting by the lake for a few minutes now, watching the kids attempt to kayak, im wearing a triangle white bikini with daisys printed on it, matt's sitting to my left, his eyes have been on me the whole time.

abrubtly he stands up, looking down at me. "come with me." he demands "huh?"

i stand up anyway, he takes my hand and starts to walk towards a shed, he opens the door and switches on the light. the dim warm lighting fills the room, revealing piles of wetsuits and life jackets.

he turns around and closes the door to the shed, locking it behind him.

he looks me in my eyes, his eyes dart down to my lips. "can i kiss you." matt asks, barely audible.

i gulp before nodding my head.

matt's hand holds my cheek gently before connecting his lips with mine. after a few seconds it turns into a makeout, his veiny hand holding my hair.

he pulls away slowly as his phone lights up, he scrolls through it before letting out a soft laugh "no way" he scoffs, rubbing his eyes.

"tonight were sleeping in the kids hall, like me and you, supervising.."

"you're kidding matt"

"nope, apparently theres a small cabin that connects off the kids hall, its got 1 bed that we share" he laughs

my cheeks flush, sharing a bed with matt, after this?..

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hope you guys liked this, like i said there will be smut in the next part!!

taglist:

@iammattsturniolo @iloveneilperry @tatumrileyslover @chrisstopherfilmed

[itsmarsss]

32 for the kiss prompts (because if it doesn't invite stolitz I don't know what does lol).

And its 2:30am here so I'm going to bed, but the prompt you sent me will be out tomorrow :)

-Salem <3

32- a a kiss while someone watches...

…naturally. have i become unnoficial stolitz x reader nation?

warnings: established stolitz relationship, stolitz sex, implication of stolitz x reader sex, daddy kink, talks of having a threesome, im so tired rn if this is badly written im so sorry girly ily

you know… you, me and… someone else

Blitzø should probably have tried to find a more convenient way and some more convenient moment to talk about this.

It's not that it's impulsive. He's been rehearsing how to approach the subject for weeks now, but is there really a right way or a right time to ask your super lovey-dovey boyfriend if he'd be up for a threesome with your best friend without it sounding, like... really fucking wrong?

Maybe he should have planned a romantic night with rose petals on the bed and a bottle of wine and a bubble bath after fucking his brains out so good he saw stars and then eased the question in, but, man, he was getting fed up of thinking about it and not managing to say anything, so lying on the couch with Stolas draped on top of him with his weirdo telenovela in the background it would be.

"Hey. Stols?"

Stolas doesn't look away from the screen. "Yes, darling?"

"Can I ask you something without you getting mad at me?"

That seems to catch his attention. He looks up. "That makes me feel a lot like you're definitely going to say something that you already know will make me mad."

"No, it's just- just promise it already!"

"I'm getting worried."

"Stolas!"

"Alright! I promise. What it is?"

Oh shit he didn't think he'd actually be getting this far. "Have you ever... uh, you ever thought about a threesome?"

Stolas chokes on his own spit, eyes almost popping out of their sockets, and he pushes himself up off Blitzø now, sitting down next to him and facing him. "A what?"

"A threesome. You know... you, me and... someone else."

"Someone else? Like who?"

"Answer the question first!"

"I- uh. I can't say I have seriously considered that before. Have you been thinking about that?"

"A little. Are you mad now?"

"Not mad. Just... surprised, is all."

"Are you actually cool with that?"

"I did make a promise."

"It's not ‘cause I don't think you're enough or anything."

"Okay."

Blitzø feels like this is a trap. Why was he being so chill about this? He feels the need to keep explaining himself. "I just... ya know, I thought it could be fun. I mean shit we've tired almost everything there is to try, right? But we've never had a threesome."

"Do you think we would enjoy that?"

"You never had a threesome?"

Stolas only glares at him. Obviously he hasn't, dumbass.

"Oh. Right. Well, I mean, it can be good, can be bad, can be whatever. Kinda the same shit as it is with just two people."

"And who would you want to bring into bed with us?"

"Don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm trying to cheat on you."

"That is not what I'm doing."

It still feels like a trap, but what else was he to say than the truth? "Well. If you wanna know so bad. I could be down if y/n was down."

"Y/n... your best friend, y/n."

"You know, we can trust them, things would be comfortable. They’re not... bad to look at, either…”

Stolas stares down at him with an eyebrow raised, unamused. "If you're going to talk about this don't be a coward about it."

"Okay, I think they’re pretty hot and I've been thinking about fucking both of you for a while. But only if it's with you and only if you'd like it too. Or whatever.”

"How romantic."

"Don't be a dick, Stolas. I'm serious."

"No, that actually is very romantic coming from you."

"So. What'cha think about it? We don't have to do it. It's just a thought. Don't even know if they’d want to either."

"They would." Stolas states, as if that were obvious.

"What do you mean?"

"Have you really never noticed the way they look at the both of us?"

"What?"

"You know, at first I thought they just wanted to fuck you which, I will admit, it did make me a tad bit mad that they wanted my boyfriend like that. But then I noticed they were looking at both of us that same way. Especially when we're together."

"Wait, wait, wait, they’ve been giving me bedroom eyes this whole time? They’ve been giving you bedroom eyes this whole time?"

"If I'm not mistaken. I actually find it rather... endearing."

"And you never bothered to fucking say anything about it?"

Stolas simply shrugs. "Never came to mind. You can get pretty possessive, darling.” He cups Blitzø’s jaw with one of his hands, squeezing his cheeks together until he’s forcing Blitzø to pout. "I wouldn’t want to upset you."

Blitzø pushes his hand away. "So you find it endearing? What does that fucking mean? You into it?"

Stolas stops to think for a moment. "Yes, I suppose so."

"Oh shit. You saying we could do it?"

"Perhaps. Let me consider ir for a few days, will you?"

"Yeah. Yeah sure. Cool. Cool, cool, cool."

[. . .]

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes.” Stolas repeats the word like a mantra, and he’s not sure if they’re meant for himself or for his boyfriend, but he couldn’t give a single fuck about it if he tried, because Blitzø has him with his back pressed to his chest, his legs spread wide so Stolas can sit pretty in between them with his own spread open as well. Stolas has his head thrown back onto Blitzø’s shoulder and his hips bucking up involuntarily into the vibrator Blitzø presses against his entrance, chasing a release pointlessly, as Blitzø’s still taking his sweet time before even considering pushing it inside of him.

He kisses Stolas’ neck as he moves the toy, playing with the pressure he holds it against his boyfriend’s body with before getting a twisted idea.

Stolas is still whispering something under his breath, and then Blitzø just stops. He halts all his movement, he retracts the hand that held the toy and he leans back on the bed frame, watching Stolas scramble to look at him in a mix of frustration and confusion. “What? Why’d you stop?”

“You’re gonna finish yourself off for me.”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“Oh I’m dead serious, hun.”

“I- I-“ Stolas is actually going to let Blitzø know how frustrated that made him when Blitzø slaps him across the face.

“Now.”

Oh shit. Fucking right away, sir.

Stolas goes back into the same position he was just in, back flushed to Blitzø’s chest and head on top of Blitzø’s shoulder, and impatiently moves his hands straight to his hole, wasting no time in inserting a finger in, already plenty wet from the fun that was cut short. He lets out a lewd, needy moan right to Blitzø’s ear as he pushes that finger in entirely, and Blitzø eats that right up.

“Needy fucking whore, can’t even tease yourself a little can ya? I’ll tell you what, you make yourself cum once and daddy makes you cum twice later, yeah? How about that?”

And then Stolas says the absolute most wildest thing he could say at that moment, all heavy breaths and whines and moans and hoots.

“Why don’t we call y/n up? I bet they could get me off for you.”

“What? You can’t just say that, Stols.”

“Ha. Made you blush.”

“What- what?”

“I don’t want to get myself off. It’s no fun. I want your big hands and your big fingers and your big dick and-“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get it. You’re not getting away with that one, Stolas.”

“I don’t plan to.”

“Oh you are so getting it.”

“That is the plan, yes.”

[. . .]

Blitzø is on his knees with his arms around the back of Stolas’ thighs and he laps up at Stolas’ gushing hole, the leg his boyfriend had hiked over his shoulder to grant him better access shakes and the grip he has on the base of his horns tightens. Stolas lets out the prettiest, most beautiful noises as he lets him ride out his high with his tongue deep inside him until he’s being literally kicked away for causing oversensitivity. He loves it.

He stumbles as his back hits the floor but quickly props himself up on his elbows to look up at Stolas, who looked so very hot when he decided he did want to take charge, may Blitzø add.

“So. Good, huh?”

He knows it was good. He could see it was good, feel it was good, hear it was good, even taste it was good.

“Very good, y/n- sorry, Blitz.”

“Oh fuck you.”

Stolas smiles in contempt at his own ‘slip-up’ but says nothing.

[. . . ]

Blitzø may not be the greatest at getting hints but he’s sure gotten this one. He’s already chill with the threesome thing not happening and he’s already thinking of what the hell he can do to make Stolas stop being passive-aggressive about it.

He gets it, alright? It wasn’t a good thing to suggest they do, and he did not want to be caught by surprise by any more sarcastic remarks about that while they’re fucking just so Stolas can prove that point.

He’s trying to come up with a way to approach Stolas about that this time when he gets home to moaning, which just gets him excited, expecting to find Stolas with his hand between his thighs, humping his vibrator at a perfectly convenient time to be 'accidentally' caught, only to be met, instead, with his boyfriend, in just his robes, making out with his half-dressed best friend on his fucking bed.

They're so enthralled they don't even bother pulling away from each other, even though Blitzø knows they've noticed his presence in the room, still entangled in passionate, hungry, aggressive kisses that brought out noises so dirty they belonged in a porno.

And all of that just from kissing? Oh this had to be a show.

Maybe he got the wrong idea from Stolas’ reaction, then.

He's sure of that when they do pull away, and Stolas puts on a very low-effort façade of surprise before exclaiming "Darling! I didn't know you would be home yet!"

"Yeah, that why you were 'bout to fuck my best friend?" He eyes you up and down, and you look down at the floor, nervous about his reaction to the ‘surprise’ Stolas had staged and so, so hotly asked if you would be up to.

"Well I couldn't help but think about that conversation we had last week. And wouldn't you know it, y/n has had similar thoughts too!"

Blitzø eyes you. "That true?"

You nod. "Sorry if it’s weird."

"What is weird is coming home to you making out with my boyfriend."

"Oh, shit, I didn't- Stolas said- I’m sorry.”

"Yeah. Sooo weird. And so fucking hot. "

Oh, this was gonna be a fun night if he's ever had one.

[kpop---scenarios]

Charmer (2)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader x Surprise!

Genre: FWB, EX FWB, Semi Enemies to Lovers

Warning: Smut, late night smut and hurt. [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT READ]

Word Count: 1.7k

Taglist: @oddracha @iovecb97 @katsukis1wife @stay-tiny-things @rubytakemyhandx23 @hyunjinhoexxx @iikxstcenn @beebee18 @kissesmellow21 @skzooluvr @felixthemochicat @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@gloriajovicc

One |

“Y/N!” Jihyo and Jeongin call out, chasing after you as you speed walk away from the bar, muttering to yourself so much that passerbys stare at you like you're crazy.

“Please stop, Y/N!” Jeongin calls out. You can hear him struggling to breathe as he and Jihyo chase you, and you feel bad. It wasn't them that you were angry at. It was Minho. You stop dead in your tracks, hanging your head down as you silently let your tears fall. You can feel a couple sets of hands on your back and they come around the front, pulling you into their two person hug.

“I'm so sorry Y/N.. I never wanted you to get hurt, I just needed you to know.” Jihyo whispers, holding you closer.

“None of us wanted this to happen.” Jeongin sighs. “I personally always thought that you and Minho were going to end up together.”

So did you, honestly but you didn't want to admit that. If you said it out loud, you were sure that it was going to make you cry and you did not want to waste anymore tears on him. He didn't deserve your tears or your love. And even though you knew that, you wanted him to reach out to you. You wanted him to call you a beg for you back, that he realized what a mistake it was to date her, that you were it all along.

So you waited.

Everyday for the next few weeks you checked your phone consistently, waiting for a call, maybe a text, an email.. something, really anything. But nothing came. For weeks it was radio silence on his end and you weren't about to go ahead and make the first move. He was the one who messed up, not you. So you continued to wait. You'd go out with your mutual friends, hoping to see him there, but he wasn't. Hell, even if he was there with whatever her name was, that would do because at this point you missed his face. You missed his voice, his touch, you missed the way you felt around him and you were desperately craving those feelings.

You had thought about moving on, trying to find someone new but you weren't sure if you were going to be able to do that. You wanted only one person and only that one person knew how to make you quiver in complete ecstasy, you knew it was likely no one else would compare.

That night, four weeks since you had said ‘fuck you’ to Minho, you went to bed, deciding that whether or not you'd ever be able to find someone to make you feel like him, you were going to try. It was time now for you to get out of the hole you were in because of him.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

You're startled awake by the sound of your phone. You look at the clock, 2:30am. Who was calling you so late? Without checking the caller ID, you answer the phone.

“Hello?” You tiredly groan.

“I miss you.” The voice whispers from the other end.

“Minho?” You ask.

“I'm sorry, baby girl. I'm sorry about all the shit I said and what I did that night.” He says. “I need you.” He groans.

“What about your girlfriend?” your voice shakes as you ask, nervous about the answer.

“It wasn't the same as you.” He sighs. “She can't make me feel like you can baby.”

Your heart and head start to race. You know you should hang up and block his number, but you couldn't bring yourself to do so.

“Did you end it?” You whisper.

He hums in response. That's a yes right? That means he ended things?

The line is silent for a moment before you speak again. “Come over.” You say.

“I'm already here.” He says. “Open up.” You crawl out of your bed, unlocking the door, seeing Minho standing there, leaning against the door frame.

“Hi.” You whisper.

“Hi.” He smiles, pushing his way in. He immediately leans in to kiss you, his mouth moving against yours as he slides his tongue down your throat. You can smell the familiar cologne as you breathe him in, it makes you feel like everything is gonna be okay. He moves the two of you back, towards the bedroom he knows so well. He strips your pj shirt from your body, throwing it wherever as you also take his shirt off, discarding it. He pulls away from you, pushing you down on the bed, a smirk appears on those lips you love so much as he crawls on after you, yanking your pj shorts off, throwing them behind him. He lays down, his face between your thighs, diving straight into sucking and flicking your clit. You cry out loudly, moaning his name. “Fuck, Minho.” You can hear him chuckle into your cunt before he licks a long strip up you, making you even more wet.

Minho shoves two fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out as he teases your clit making you twitch beneath him. He holds you down with his free hand as he devours you, making you run your hands through your hair before you grab a clump of his hair, pulling his face in closer while you grind on him.

“Fuck.. just like that.. just like that..” you cry out, releasing his hair. You were about to cum, you just needed one more thrust and one more suck to push you over the edge.. but then he sat up. Licking his lips, smiling at you.

“W-w-why? Why Why would you do that!?” You whine.

“That's what happens when you say ‘fuck you, Lee know.’ He smiles, mimicking you from last night.

“Oh my god, that's so not fair.” You whine.

“Don't worry, kitten. You'll get to cum. It's just gonna be on my cock.” He grins, taking his pants off, moving to the edge of the bed to sit against the headboard. His cock stands tall as he waits for you to sit on him and ride him.

Fuck you missed him and his cock.

You crawl over to him, ready to straddle him and sink yourself down onto his cock. But he looks at you seriously. “Beg.”

“What?” You ask.

“Beg for it.” He says again, cocking his head to the side. “You just have to say, ‘please Minho, please let me ride your cock.’ He smiles. “See, it's easy.”

You look him in the eyes, your brain knowing you should tell him to get out but the rest of you wanted him. “Please Minho. Please let me ride your cock.” You whisper.

He smiles at you, pulling you closer to straddle him. “Good girl.” He whispers, thrusting up inside of you, catching you off guard.

“Fuck!” You cry out. You lower yourself, pushing down to have him as far inside you as he could go before you start rocking back and forth, dragging your clit against him as your cum seeps out of you, coating his dick.

“Mhmm, you're so wet for me.” He pants, holding on your hips as he helps guide you between riding and bouncing on top of him. Minho watches the way your breasts bounce while you ride his cock, how you throw your head back, running your hands all over your body as your orgasm builds faster and faster.

Minho sits up a little more, grabbing your breast, wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking and nibbling on it, making you moan louder.

“Please.. fuck.. don't stop.” You cry out, you feel like you're about to explode on top of him. “Fuck.” You scream, riding him harder as his fingertips dig into your hips, breathlessly urging for you to cum so he can.

“I'm cum..I'm cumming.. fuck.” You scream out as it bursts through your body, making you slow down your movements as you come down from your high.

“I'm right there.” Minho grunts, holding you up slightly as he harshly rams his cock into you, desperate to cum now. “Fuck.” He yells, as he orgasms, shooting his cum inside of you.

You both sit there for a minute, his cock still buried inside you as you both try to catch your breath.

Once you finally roll off of him, you head straight to the bathroom. “I'm gonna take a quick shower.” You say, turning your head to look at him. He smiles at you as he lays in your bed. This was more like it.

You couldn't have been in the shower longer than 5 minutes before you were out and in your bedroom, and Minho was not in there. You dried yourself off, putting on your pj's again as you wander around your apartment and he's nowhere to be found. Fuck, he could have at least waited until you were sleeping.

You crawled into your bed, sadness washing over you as you closed your eyes, falling asleep quickly and dreaming of that man. The next evening, you were invited to a party by your best friend, Jihyo, who was celebrating the fact that she was failing most of her classes, while also celebrating that her boyfriend Daniel was doing extremely well in his.

“Woohoo.” You smile, hugging her. “You're failing!” You laugh.

“And you're passing! Yay.” You laugh again, hugging Daniel.

“How are you?” Jihyo asks, protruding his bottom lip slightly.

“Don't start.” You laugh. “Drinks, please.” You say, dragging her to the kitchen.

A while later, while the liquor is flowing nicely through your body, you and Jihyo head out to the living room to dance, where you happen to see someone you wanted to see but also didn't.

“Minho.” You sigh, staring at the sexy man, but your tune quickly changes as you see Jennie walking towards him, and he wraps his arm around her, pulling her closely.

“Hey, everyone!” He yells. His eyes lock in on yours. “This is my gorgeous girlfriend, Jennie.” He grins, breaking eye contact a few seconds later. You feel like your throat is going to close up as tears well in your eyes.

“I'm gonna go.” You say to Jihyo. You put your cup down, heading out of the house, feeling shattered. You went to bed that night feeling almost as bad as you did that first night. You tossed and turned until your phone dinged.

[From: XFWB 3:05am] u up?

[To: XFWB 3:05am]....

…

..

.

[To: XFWB 3:07am] doors unlocked.

[buckyandgeraltsupremacy]

remus x shy!reader (part 4)

author: sj

warnings: fluff; angst for remus lol; reader is in hufflepuff; uses she/her pronouns; not edited

done with finals!! now battling the want to only read fics and not write, let me know if you want a confession from rem!!

masterlist

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 5

---

it was the day of the date and remus had been up since 4 am. he couldn't stop thinking about your date. however bad he hoped it would go, he didn't want your first date experience to be horrible. he wanted you to be treated how you deserve and to have a lovely time while also never ever wanting to see the fool again. and that is why he had woken up at 4 in the morning and couldn't stop the fight in his mind.

it was 11:30am and he was laying on the couch in the common room, one foot on the ground tapping constantly. the boys had decided to stay in this morning because james was worried they'd run into you and that sirius would end up embarrassing you and ruin your date.

"moony, if you don't stop tapping your foot, i'm going to lose my mind." sirius grunted, head in his hands covering his ears from the tapping noise.

"she should be done with her date now, right? its been 2 hours. why isn't she back yet?" remus asked.

"relax you love sick dog. your precious wife will be returned soon." sirius replied dramatically, rolling his eyes at how abserd this whole situation was. "if you had only confessed your love for her when you had the chance, she wouldn't be snogging another fella while you fumed the whole time." he added. remus shot upright on the couch with a wide eyed expression and a look of dread covering his features.

"here she comes!" peter shouted, holding the marauder's map in his hands, walking into the common room where the other boys were. all of their heads turned towards the portrait hole where it swung open and you stepped through.

you were excited to tell the boys all about it, but you weren't quite expecting them to all be staring at you when you got back.

"well, hi." you said, cheeks flushing more than they already were, glancing towards the floor to not meet their eyes. you sat down on the couch next to remus like normal, not sensing the tension in his body, only feeling their eyes on you.

"WELL??? i need all the details. spill your guts flea!" sirius cried across from you.

"it was okay! it wasn't bad! but it also wasn't great. like it was pleasant but it wasn't anything to write home about. is that good? like are you supposed to know if you want to marry him already?" you rambled, entire face flushing and not meeting their eyes.

"aw, hoppers. i'm sorry it didn't go well." james consoled you.

"what do you mean?" you asked, confused why he sounded sad for you.

"well, it didn't sound like there was any chemistry, that's important if you're gonna date someone." james explained.

"flea, i know it's your first date ever, but even i thought you'd know that." sirius shrugged. at the mention of it being your first date, you tensed and shot a look a remus, hurt that he spilled a secret to the boys. remus met your gaze with a look of panic.

"that wasn't me! i swear it! i didn't tell them!" he yelled.

"oh he didn't tell us, but the way you were acting before was kind of obvious and the fact that remus would've known that you were dating someone before you were part of our group and you certainly haven't since we've been friends because of remus' behavior." sirius explained, you relaxed and reached to touch remus' leg.

"sorry for thinking that you told them when you didn't ." you apologized and remus nodded back.

"its fine bun, i'm not hurt." he said, covering your hand with his.

"so hoppers, did you snog him?" sirius asked crudely. your cheeks flushed bright red.

"that is none of your business sirius! and a lady never kisses and tells!" you exclaim, avoiding all their eyes. "i told him that it would be best if we were friends, and he agreed. i don't think dating is for me, i just got so anxious before! and the thought of having to go on another date, just makes me nauseous." you say, leaning onto remus' shoulder and resting your head.

"thats okay, bun. you don't have to date if you don't want to." remus patted your thigh, his heart soaring that he won't have to go through this again. he knew he'd have to tell you that he liked you soon, the thought of you with someone else almost killed him.

"thanks rem." you mumbled back, sinking deeper into his side.

sirius observes this going on, looking to james and mouthing, 'are they fucking idiots??'

james simply rolled his eyes in response.

[literaryavenger]

I love you and I hate it

Summary: Bucky's your best friend, but you're in love with him. Now that he has a girlfriend, will you be able to get a handle on your feelings?

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Bucky being a bit of an ass. Reader being dramatic. Angst. Language maybe. Minimal use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: this is a two part because otherwise it was too long. Hope you like it! also, it's 4:30am and I can't help myself lol.

Masterlist

Loving your best friend is not something anyone ever plans.

Getting those kinds of feelings for the person closest to you changes the way you look at them, the way you interact and essentially your relationship with them, making everything unnecessarily complicated.

At least that’s how you see it.

You definitely didn't think something like that could ever happen to you. But to be fair, you also never thought Bucky Barnes would ever become your best friend at the compound.

When you first arrived as the newest avengers recruit the brooding supersoldier was not your biggest fan. Things didn’t start on the best note for you two.

- 2 years ago -

Steve was showing you around the compound and introducing you to people and team members as you met them. You arrived at the common room where Bucky and Sam were watching Tv.

"Hey guys. This is Y/N, the new recruit I told you about," Steve introduced you "this is Sam." he said to you as Sam got up from the couch putting out his hand.

"Nice to meet you." he said.

"You too," you said, shaking his hand "it’s so exciting to be here and meet all of you. You are all such remarkable people."

"Oh, complimenting me? I like you already." Sam said chuckling.

"Of course you do." Steve said, rolling his eyes with a smile, then turned to you "and this is Bucky" he said, pointing at the brunette still sitting on the couch.

"Hi Bucky, it’s nice to meet you too." you said, getting closer to him and holding out your hand for him to shake. Bucky, however, just looked at you for a moment before standing up, turning away from you and walking out of the room without saying a word.

"Uh... did I do something wrong?" you asked, very much confused, still looking at the door Bucky just ran out of.

"No, it’s always him." said Sam.

"Sam, don’t." Steve told him, then turned to you again "don’t mind Bucky, he’s not good with new people. It’s nothing personal, he’ll get used to it, don’t worry."

"Right. He’ll get used to me." you said as he gave you an apologetic look "yeah… anyway, let’s finish the tour."

"Sure, bye Sam. See you around, I guess." you told Sam with a smile.

"Yeah, see you guys at dinner." and with that you left to finish the tour of the compound that ultimately ended with your assigned room.

"So this is your room, Natasha has the room on the right and Sam has the one on the left." he pointed at them as he talked and then pointed at the room across from yours "that's Bucky, to his right is Peter and mine is to his left."

"A lot of neighbors, got it."  you said chuckling with Steve.

"Yeah. So I’ll let you get settled and I’ll see you at dinner with the team." he said.

"Yeah, see you later." 

If you were honest with yourself, you were a little disappointed at how meeting Bucky went, you were really looking forward to meeting the super soldier.

While all the other girls were busy crushin on Captain America, you always felt more attracted to Sergeant Barnes.

Something about him just made you curious, and, after all the Winter Soldier stuff came to light, you were one of the few people that saw right away that Bucky was a victim.

You never did understand how people could read all the details of what happened to him and still call him a monster, like it was his fault that he was captured, tortured and made to do things no decent human being would ever do.

In fact, you got in trouble more than one time for fighting when things escalated while you were defending the super soldier from agents that didn’t see it like you.

It’s really a shame that a lot of agents of Shield itself thought so ill of the Sergeant. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like you, maybe he thought you were one of them.

You had to make sure he knew you weren’t.

Having made up your mind, you decided there was no better time like the present. You crossed the hall and knocked on his door, and after a few moments he opened.

"I know, Steve, don-" he interrupted himself the second he laid eyes on you.

"Sorry, not Steve. Clearly. I’m sorry to bother you, Sergeant Barnes, I just wanted to let you know that I don’t have anything against you. I know some agents feel like you should be held accountable for the things you were forced to do, and they’re not really afraid to get vocal about it, but I’m not one of them. I don’t think any of it was your fault. It may not matter much to you, after all you don’t seem to like me very much, but it’s important to me that you know this. You’re kind of my  hero." you finished, a little embarrassed at admitting this to his face. He looked at you for a few moments and, just as you thought he was about to slam the door in your face, he grinned.

"I’m your hero, doll?" he asked, leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed in a way that made his biceps look huge and a smirk on his face.

After that you and Bucky became quick friends, spending more and more time together. Missions, training, down time, you were practically attached at the hip.

You were always careful not to let any feelings grow other than friendship and, mostly, it was easy.

There were some times where you somehow ended up flirting, but they were fleeting moments that passed as quickly as they came, and you decided, for your own peace of mind, to not overthink them and let it go every time.

Now, back to the present, the reason why you’re lost in your thoughts and feelings for Bucky.

You’re watching from a distance as Bucky smiles and laughs, happier than you’ve ever seen him surrounded by his friends, more relaxed than he’s ever been during a party.

You smile at his happiness, glad that he’s finally comfortable around pretty much everybody, but your face falls pretty fast as you see him wrap his right arm around her.

You’ve known Sharon for a while now, she was one of the agents in the list for the spot in the Avengers before you got it. You always felt like she resented you for it, like she should’ve been the one to get it because she was already close with some of the members of the team.

She was never openly hostile with you, but you did notice her hanging around Bucky more and more in the last few months. You didn’t think anything of it, but you were proved wrong just half an hour ago when Bucky started to introduce her to the avengers she didn’t already know as his girlfriend.

As soon as that word came out of his mouth, so casually you’d think he'd been saying it his whole life,  you felt like you were gonna throw up.

It took all your skills to keep your face as neutral as possible, you felt like Sharon’s eyes were on you the whole time, trying to see every micro expression she could find to know what you were thinking.

But you were probably just imagining that, right?

You excused yourself as soon as you could and went straight to the bar to get the strongest drink Nat could make, which she handed to you with a knowing look while glancing behind you.

You barely had time to think before you felt his hand on your shoulder, feeling his body next to you but you didn't turn to look at him, taking a sip of your drink instead.

"Hey, doll, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Sharon before, it’s still pretty new."

You tried to keep your voice as cheery as you normally would around him. "Why would you? It’s your relationship, why are you apologizing?"

He gave you a weird look you'd never seen before, before saying "Because we’re best friends? We usually tell each other everything… right?" he sounded a bit uncertain.

"Yeah, right, duh." you said, trying to give a genuine laugh "Well, it’s alright anyway, now I know! Stop worrying, just go be with her."

He looked around your face for a few more moments, like he was looking for something, before he said "ok, then." and left.

You managed to keep the smile on your face until you were sure he was gone, but dropped it as soon as you looked back ahead of you.

Taking another sip of your drink and making a face at how much alcohol was actually in it, you looked at Nat and, nodding, you left before she could comment on the scene you’re sure she just watched in its entirety. 

So here you are now, in a corner watching people enjoy themselves, just like you used to do at parties with Bucky by your side, except you’re alone.

You try to look on the bright side, you really are, but you can find none.

You can't talk about it with anyone either since nobody knows about your feelings for the super soldier, except for Natasha who always seems to know everything, but  you aren't too close with her and neither of you ever actually spoke about it out loud.

Not that you would've, you aren't the most outgoing person, usually keeping your feelings and most of your thoughts to yourself, with the exception of Bucky.

With him talking seems like the easiest thing in the world, it doesn't matter about what. He knows almost everything that he could possibly know about you, the only thing that you could never bring yourself to talk about is your feelings for him.

You feel a hand in the low of your back and, just as you're bringing your fist up, you realize it's just Steve. "Easy there, tiger." he chuckled, lowering your arm for you. "You seem a little on edge. Everything okay?"

"Everything’s just fine, Captain. You can salute your way to someone else now." His laugh makes you smile against your will.

"Okay, rookie, you don’t wanna talk about it." you roll your eyes at the old nickname, but he keep going, "you know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a party without your moping buddy."

You glance at Bucky, who's busy laughing it up with Clint and Laura, his arm still around Sharon. Your eyes find Steve’s again, and you simply shrug. "We’re allowed to do our own thing, aren’t we?"

"Of course you are... I was just wondering why you weren’t with him, that’s all."

You avoid his eyes while you quietly say, "he already has someone at his side tonight, doesn’t need me there."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" comes a voice from behind you.

Damn. The one moment you weren’t looking at him and he sneaks up on you.

You turn around and see him standing there, arms crossed in front of his chest, Sharon at his side with a smug look on her face that you convince yourself you’re just imagining.

"What’s what supposed to mean?"  You try playing dumb, but you know Bucky can see right through that.

He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly but when you just shrug and give him your best confused look, he sighs and looks at Sharon. "Hey babe, can you get me a scotch from the bar? I’ll meet you there."

You don't know if you're more hurt at him calling her that or relieved at the fact that he didn’t use the nickname that was usually reserved for you.

She just nods and, without taking her eyes off of you, gives him a kiss on the lips. Okay, you definitely didn’t imagine that. As soon as she’s far enough, Bucky turns back to you.

"What’s wrong with you tonight?" He asks sharply.

"Excuse me? Who said there was something wrong with me?" You say defensively.

"Oh come on doll, you’ve been weird ever since Sharon got here. What’s the matter, do you not like her or something?"

You don't know what to say. You certainly aren't about to tell your best friend that the reason you don’t like his new girlfriend is because you have feelings for him. That’s not gonna end well for anybody. So you decide to just keep on denying.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bucky, so why don’t you just go after you little girlfriend and enjoy your night with her."

"That, right there." he points at your face in a very accusatory manner. "What the fuck was that?"

"What was what?" you’re starting to raise your voice a little and swatting at his hand, getting annoyed at him for not letting this go.

"You’re being a jerk about Sharon, what is your problem with her?"

"I don’t have a problem with her!"

"Yes, you do!"

"Why are you trying to make this into a problem?!"

"Because I know you!" At this point you're both yelling.

"Well, clearly, you don’t know me as well as you think you do!" Lie.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?! Just tell me what the hell is your problem!"

"Why do you care so much? Even if I had a problem, it’s my business, it’s not like I’m your girlfriend!" Bucky just looks at you with a face you’d never seen on him before and you can't decipher.

The whole room seems to go quiet as you two just look at each other for a few moments, then Bucky finally speaks.

"You’re right." he says, in a much quieter voice than a second before "you’re not my girlfriend. I just thought you were my friend. Guess I was wrong. I’ll go after my little girlfriend now."

You can't find it in you to say anything and, when you just look at him, he scoffs and turns around to make his way to the bar.

Slowly it feels like everyone else starts to go back to what they were doing before your yelling match stopped the party in its tracks, but you feel like you can't breath, let alone move, as you watch the spot where Bucky was standing just moments ago, tears starting to form in your eyes.

You can’t believe that just happened. Did Bucky really just say you aren’t his friend?

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you hear Steve saying "are you okay?" from next to you.

In all honesty, you forgot he was even there.

All that comes out of you is a broken sob before you turn around and make a run for the elevator, as fast as you can run in heels and a floor-length cocktail dress.

Steve runs after you, but there are too many people around that slow him down, and by the time he gets to the elevator the doors had just closed.

He waits to see where you would stop, assuming your shared floor but you never know. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and he pushes the button of the elevator, glad that he waited a second more.

When he gets to the roof it's so dark outside that it takes a second before he find you, and once he does he slowly gets close to you.

What he was not expecting was to find you sitting on the ground, hugging your knees and crying.

Steve sits down next to you and puts his arm around your shoulders wordlessly while you cry.

After you calmed down a bit he says "He’s really worried about you, Y/N. If there’s something going on, you should just tell him. He’ll understand…"

You think about it for a few minutes while you find a way to tell Steve what's going on.

"How do you tell someone that the reason you’re sad is because you love them?" you say with tears starting to form again in your eyes.

Steve can only stare at you, at a loss for words. 

You hear something behind you and when you turn you see Bucky’s back, walking towards the elevator.

It doesn’t matter how long he was there for, he obviously heard you.

You look back at Steve that has an apologetic look on his face, confirming your fear. Damn super soldier hearing.

Well, it looks like your friendship with Bucky is officially dead.

Part 2

[hsangel64]

bandmates pt. 10!

synopsis: a couple of weeks was all it took

warnings: some angst, cussing

a/n: i am not too sure how long this story will go, but i think the way its going it’ll get another story, maybe!!

after everything happened you packed up a bag and texted abby to stay for a couple of days to cool down. she told you of course and offered to let you stay for however long you would need. ellie had been texting you all morning, you had turned on do not disturb but she still seemed to get her way around it and i couldn’t stop checking my phone. text after text you finally gave in and texted back.

you sighed and rubbed your face. what did you just do, you can’t believe you agreed. she texted you a coffee shop, it being your guys’ favorite coffee place to go to, and told her to meet her tomorrow morning. you shook your head at yourself and turned your phone off. no more of that for today.

———————————————————————————

it’s finally tomorrow morning, after an agonizingly long sleepless night, it was the morning. you had gotten ready and felt the nerves pick up. you changed your shirt about a million times now. you really didn’t want to see ellie and don’t know why you agreed but you love her too much to be gone for too long.

you checked the time grabbed your bag to head out. it was 9:30am and ellie wanted to meet around 10:15 so you had some time to walk there and get yourself together. you felt your heart beating a million miles a minute, you didn’t know if you’d start screaming or crying at ellie, maybe even both.

you made it to the coffee shop and didn’t even realize it, you stared at the door before taking a huge deep breath and going in.

———————————————————————————

ellie’s pov

she couldn’t believe what had happened, it all happened so fast. you had ran and she didn’t have any time to process what you had said.

“ellie you fuckin idiot.” dina yelled at her and ran after you. she just stood there for what felt like forever. jesse didn’t ay anything and just went after dina. she came back from her senses and realized you left, ellie ran to your room and saw dina on the couch with her head in her hands and jesse comforting her. they both heard her come in and immediately changed moods, dina got up and pushed ellie.

“you’re a fucking asshole you know that? you are a shit friend, girlfriend, all of the above.” her chest going up and down as she paced around the room trying not to beat up ellie.

“you better fucking fix this ellie or i swear to god you will never see either of us again.” she pushed her way out of the room and stormed off. jesse got up and walked towards ellie, he put his hand on ellie’s shoulder and said, “fix it ellie.”

she was left in the room alone for about 2 minutes with just her thoughts before cat barged in.

“hi baby! you did so so good.” she tried to kiss her but ellie pushed her off and mumbled a fuck off. she ran out of the room and ran to her car. ellie didn’t even grab anything just made it her mission to try and catch you at the dorm. she knew you were going to run off. she drove quicker than she thought she even could, she made it to the dorm within 10 mins as the drive regularly was 30 mins. she barely even parked and ran up the building, she even took the stairs trying to catch you. she reached the door and called out for you, for anyone, complete silence filled her ears. she sighed really loudly and realized she missed you. ellie dragged herself to the couch and fell into it, sobbing into herself. she felt pathetic, she knew what she did and felt like utter shit. dina was right, she said over and over and over again in her head. she had to do something.

———————————————————————————

it had been almost two weeks since ellie had seen you, she had been texting you every chance she gets she texts you. you never answered of course, just sulking in your own feelings. ellie tried everything, she sent you flowers after hearing where you were staying, she tried to catch you after class, she called and called and called, but to no avail you never answered. she was running out of things to do with dina yelling on her back about fixing things, she didn’t know what else to do. she figured it was the end and she was ready to accept the fact that you would never be with her again. dina had come home and seen ellie on the couch with her head in her hands. she sighed and made her way towards her.

“why don’t you just tell her the truth, try and get her to go to get coffee and explain all that you feel.” ellie looked up at her and sent a small smile her way. “as much as i don’t like you right now, i still love you and i want to try and help.” they hugged and spent some time together that ellie very much needed.

they spent the rest of the day watching movies and just spending time together, dina ended up falling asleep while they watched interstellar.

‘she always said it was boring…’ she thought and laughed to herself. she thought for a second and texted you about coffee tomorrow morning, it took some convincing but you agreed and she felt good about this, she was going to get you back even if it took just starting over.

———————————————————————————

taglist: @gold-dustwomxn @lil-elliesgf @elliestears @cjrights @hopelesssheaven @depressedbratsworld @amberputh

a/n: hey guys! this is a shit chapter but i’m hoping the next one will be the last and better! this was just a filler from not posting in awhile!!

[sku1l-b4e]

Maybe like We are tom's best friend and have a sleepover at his anddd in the middle of the night we get thirsty or Need to go to the Toilette (you can choose it doesnt matterrr) and a Part of Bill's door is open and you see him masturbating (☺️) and he Sees you maybe or you Go to him and be like ,,Hey sorry your door was open" I DONT KNOWW" (rest is up to you)

(My english is bad im sorry and sorry that it is so long)

Sorry !!

It was early in the morning, probably not even past 2:30AM, so it was no surprise that your best friend, Tom, is still asleep next to you. You slowly sit up, trying to avoid waking the sleeping boy beside you, you free his arm from around your ribs to your lap as your rest your head against the headboard, you glance around the dark room, admiring the collection of guitars before a sudden wave of dehydration comes over you. You groan quietly and remove Tom's arm from your lap, slowly standing from his bed and stretching out your back.

You leave Tom's room, silently making your way down the hall and towards the kitchen when you hear a soft slapping sound coming from a room to your left. You look in the direction of the noise and your ears now pick up the sound of sound grunts and whines, it takes a moment to register that your standing in front of the ajar door of Bill's bedroom. You can't see him, but you decide to see if he's awake or asleep.

You slowly push open the door, only to be greeted with the sight of an almost naked Bill, his head thrown back and his right hand moving up and down his throbbing cock. You freeze, but his door swings open a little more and the hinges creak, causing him to look up and almost scream at the realization that his brothers best friend has just walked in on him masterbating.

"S-shit... I'm so sorry, Bill, I didnt-" you start, but he quickly shushes you and beckons you closer. You're hesitant but do so anyway, because who wouldn't? He quickly reassured you that it was okay, that it was an honest mistake, but he couldn't help but notice that your eyes kept darting between his face and his cock...

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Maybe that's how you got here, kneeling by the side of Bill's bed, his legs either side of you as he thrusts his hips up into your mouth. Your pretty lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing erection, his slender fingers tangled in your hair and your hands gripping onto the outside of his thighs.

"Fuck- jaja, that's it... ohhh..." His hushed voice echos through the quiet house, the only other noise being your quiet gags and his pretty moans. Your head moves down to meet his upwards thrusts, you drag your tongue along the bottom of his dick, the tip hitting the back of your throat as he uses the same situation he had been fantasizing about for his personal pleasure. God, he's loved you for months, he'd want to at least take you on a date first but he's too busy chasing his orgasm too even register any other feeling than lust.

His thrusts eventually become more sloppy, indicating that he's getting closer and closer to his orgasm. You force his hips down, pinning them to the bed as you push your head down, your nose brushing against his lower abdomen. You deepthroat him a couple times, his soft moans turning into whines and drabbles of German.

He speeds through a sentence in German, his hips pushing against your hands, his own hands grip your hair, forcing your head all the way down until you gag and he lets out a looooong groan, his warm seed shooting down your throat whilst his mouth falls open and strings of incoherent words fall out from between his pink lips.

Your about to pull yourself off of Bill and swallow, when a familiar voice comes from behind.

"Y/N?"

[slutsareteacherstoo]

I Hope Part 4 - Terry Richmond x Black OC

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

(I gotta get better at these tags, suggestions welcome!)

Summary: Savannah works an (unplanned) Saturday shift and has to cover a program unexpectedly! (Terry not in here....til the very end)

Warnings/Things of Note: Mentions/glimpses of disability, medications, shoutout to Black lesbians, divorce, disordered eating, ARFID, libraries (you should have a card if you don't), shoutout to library workers, masks, pandemic mention, brief medical trauma

Word Count: 6K+ (6,667)

Author’s Note: Hi y'all. Thank you for your patience. I decided to just post everything together like it was originally supposed to be but omfg. I think I overdid the exposition and description. I kinda don’t like it but thats okay cuz as i write more I’ll improve my style and be ok with it

So glad I got this part done. I told my therapist these characters are haunting me and doing shit behind my back like yall better slow down. 🤣 i might go back and fix the tags and warnings probably so if there's something I missed lmk. It was also kinda not proofread, so lmk if I missed anything. I hate that this is soo long mostly cuz Terry didnt get his depth in part 3 but Imma work on it.

I don't give my consent for my work to be copied, reposted, translated or used to train AI.

If you wanna be tagged or removed let me know.

Okay🧍🏾‍♀️ gonna go now 🏃🏿‍♀️

The trilling of a phone alarm rang through Savannah’s bedroom, startling her awake. Pillows and blankets were thrown askew, some falling to the floor. She reached toward the nightstand to silence her phone. With weary eyes, she looked at the blazing screen with the time of 6:30am on display. This was too early for a Saturday morning. She put on her glasses and swung her body to the side of the bed, counting mentally for 30 seconds before rising with a groan.

Savannah made her way to the bathroom, wincing as she turned on the light and at the overwhelming urge to pee. After flushing and washing her hands, she began her morning routine: water flossing, electric toothbrush, mouthwash. Wiping her mouth with a towel, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was NOT supposed to be up this early for a Saturday. Savannah had volunteered to cover for her coworker, Desiree, whose child had an important meet today. This was the sixth day of the week she was going to be working at the library, and right now she resolved to never volunteer herself again. Even if it was time and a half.

Reminding herself of her bonnet and the hair she needed to take care of underneath it, she grabbed her plush, forest green rolling chair and sat. Savannah pulled off the bonnet and felt her hair with two hands. She softly stretched it and wondered how she’d do it today. Saturdays were normally wash days but Savannah didn’t have time for that. The reminder ping to take her medicine only emphasized that. The mirror cabinet swung open to reveal prescription medications, supplements, painkillers, a first aid kit, alcohol, hydrogen peroxide and 2 mini water bottles specifically to ensure she wouldn’t dry swallow. It was hard not to. Savannah downed her meds and supplements. She didn’t touch the painkillers, resolving that maybe her liver deserved a break.

Savannah closed the mirror and stared at herself again. Deep brown skin with hints of gold was looking a bit paler and the under eye circles, courtesy of her glasses and general fatigue were looking a bit more prominent than usual. Who would ever choose to be up at this god awful time on a Saturday morning? The answer to her mental thought was answered by Hip Hop Harry’s, “I Love to Learn”, the signature ringtone from none other than her best friend, Marisol. Grad school classmates turned librarian coworkers, the two had been inseparable since. Savannah glanced at the phone and saw it was a video call of all things. Savannah rolled her eyes and accepted it.

“Why are you calling my phone this early in the morning?” Savannah grumbled and absentmindedly adjusted her glasses.

“Well, good morning to you, Miss Sunshine. You can’t greet?” Marisol said in a mocking tone, a thick eyebrow raised and fully lashed eye moving closer to the screen.

Savannah was fighting the urge to smile and laugh. Seeing Marisol’s face —round, dark brown with cool red undertones, and never without pink blush always made her smile. Her deep red hair was braided down in two plaits with pink bows at the ends and her silver septum ring glinting in the light.

Savannah responded with an eyeroll and Marisol smacked her lips, glossy lined in black, “Tuh. Don’t be mad at me for trying to make sure you got up early this morning and make it to work on time.” Marisol was being playful.

“I’m up aren’t I?” Savannah retorted, “How are you already ready this early? It’s not even 7 yet!”

“Well, I had a bit of an early start,” Marisol said with the bite of her lip and looking across her shoulder. Savannah couldn’t see more than her friend’s face in the frame but the low, morning voice that followed was hint enough at what gave her best friend that morning espresso.

“Good morning, Savannah,” Demi, Marisol’s partner, responded before coming into view. Her dark brown locs were up in a bun and sweatband covered her tapered hairline. It looked like she was heading out for her morning run. Demi gave Marisol a quick kiss on the cheek, joining Marisol in the frame; her brown skin was beaming at the sight of Savannah’s best friend.

“Eww,” Savannah responded, eyes wide with fake disgust and but also genuine awe. She didn’t know how they had the energy and so early in the morning. Now it was Demi and Marisol’s turn to roll their eyes and scoff. The three of them let out a laugh. Savannah went back to observing herself in the mirror. She didn’t know what she was going to do with her hair.

“Put it in a puff,” Demi said, catching Savannah off guard. Savannah looked back at the screen again. “Put in a puff and slap on a bandanna,” Demi repeated with the sip of her coffee mug.

Savannah liked Demi a lot. She was the favorite of Marisol’s partners over the years. And while Savannah hated unsolicited advice, Demi’s was never wrong and always gave it at the right time.

“Yeah. I agree. Just get a big scrunchie or an old headband and tie that thing back. You won't have to worry about it the whole day.” Marisol added.

Savannah nodded in agreement. She’d just deal with it tomorrow. She reached under the sink for one of her organizers. It had the detangling spray, wide tooth comb, clips, gel, brush and scrunchie she needed. Savannah began the puff process while responding to the lovely couple: light spray, section, clip, comb, clip again.

“Thank you for calling me though. I was so close to giving Blue Monday on a Saturday,” Savannah said while shaking her head.

“I know! That’s why I did. I don’t know why you agreed to cover for Desiree anyways.”

“It’s time and a half.”

“So?”

”So?! Being disabled is expensive and I got bills to pay.”

“Say less,” Marisol agreed, letting it go.

Demi, however, decided to butt in, “But I thought the money from—”

That gave Savannah pause. Stunned at Demi’s almost question, she put the comb down on the sink counter. The sound echoed in the morning quiet. She took a breath to still herself before glancing at the phone screen again. 

“Oop!” Marisol scurried out the frame with her hands raised and backed away from the camera, leaving her partner to fend for herself. Marisol had already tried to have this conversation with Savannah many times before. It seemed that Demi’s unfinished question was another one of Marisol’s sly attempts. Demi reluctantly inched forward as Savannah stared daggers through the screen. 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Demi exclaimed. “I just meant that you’ve been working so hard. I just wish that you let yourself rest a bit more and take it easy, well in that regard. I just—” 

Savannah cut in right there. “Now, I’m gonna stop you before you go any further. I’m gonna give you grace because I know that your girl put you up to it.”

Demi’s eyes moved slowly over to look at said girl out of frame and back at Savannah.

“But that money,” even saying the word made Savannah’s mouth sour, “wasn’t free. It still isn’t.” 

She understood what they were trying to do. To express their concerns about her pushing herself. But they didn’t get it. The money she got out of the divorce was secured out of necessity not greed. And it would never be enough to pay for the long-term damage her ex’s betrayal had done.

“Well,” Demi began “…it definitely was not but,” she was finding her footing again, in spite of Savannah’s Scorpio stare, “you ARE free from that nigga.” Demi was preaching now, the spirit of encouragement influencing her oration. Marisol ad-libbed a churchy “Thank you, Lord” from the background. Oh great, Savannah thought as her steel started to crack.

“And the State of California, declared that in addition to that freedom,” Demi continued, while Marisol hummed in the background to goad her partner on, “he has no choice but to pay for his lies.” Demi declared with a pointed finger, as Marisol shouted, “Come on.” Wait, was that organ keyboard music Savannah heard coming from their end? Her anger was dissipating into chuckles of amusement.

“So all I’m saying, Sister Savannah,” Demi said softly with preacher’s cadence still in effect, “and I hold your hand when I say this,” she held her own two hands for Savannah’s emphasis, “you should hold no guilt when it comes to using it. No shame for using it when you need it. Exactly like you said, it wasn’t free. But in this new life, you deserve to give yourself the ease you desire. You can do that now.” Demi ended, punctuated by Marisol’s soft hallelujah and towel-clad hand on her forehead. The music faded out and the space was silent for a beat. Savannah’s eyes circled upward for a bit, trying to hold in tears because it was too early for all this. When she looked down again, two pairs of eyes were staring back at her. Savannah’s moved pursed lips from side-to-side, mulling over what to say. In a low tone, “You two…” a snort is what actually came out and then a chorus of laughter and chuckles. “Y’all are something else,” she said with the shake of her head. 

Savannah went back to finishing up her hair and her favorite couple watched.

“So, does that mean you won’t beat my ass?” Demi asked. 

“I guess,” Savannah deadpanned.

“And does that mean we’re still splitting Ms. Taylor’s leftovers at lunch?” Marisol added.

“Hmm, I’ll have to think about it,” Savannah said with a smirk. Of course she would. She always did.

“Well, at least I’m in the clear.” Demi said, preparing to head out. Marisol scoffed in time with the kiss she left on her cheek. “I’ll catch you later, Sister Savannah.” 

Savannah put her hands together and bowed her head slightly, “Thank you, Pastor Demi.” With the grab of her keys and wink, Demi was gone now leaving the best friends to themselves.

Marisol watched as Savannah put the finishing touches on her hair, smoothing and pinning it. It was a simple and classic style. She admired her friend’s handiwork. Especially because Savannah was getting back into it again. And was actually able to. Savannah was proud of the fact that she could do her hair…when her body would cooperate with her. It was always touch and go but the last few months were a lot for her, especially with fully sitting and internalizing the aftermath of the divorce. So, Marisol was soaking in her friend’s born-again pride with a smile.

Savannah’s voice floated in, interrupting Marisol’s thoughts.

“You know you not slick right?,” an eyebrow of Savannah’s own arching.

“I’ve never claimed to be,” Marisol replied

“‘You deserve to give yourself the ease you desire’. Your girl is good with her words. I got the message,” Savannah nodded in acceptance.

“Hey, as long as it got through, that’s all that matters.” Marisol said with hands up. “And she really is,” a smile growing at her lips. She loved the woman badly.

“Also, why do I get the feeling that preaching routine I got a glimpse of is something that you do on the regular? Y’all don’t even go to church,” pressed Savannah with a knowing look. Marisol smirked in a response.

“Anyways, I’m glad that you’re almost ready and that I get to work a Saturday shift with you.” Marisol smiled

Almost was the operative word. For all the time she spent on her hair and being on the phone, she was still in her pajamas! Hadn’t picked her outfit, ate her breakfast, gave herself time to lollygag or pack her lunch.

“Yeah, almost. Girl, I love you but I gotta go,” the words came out hurriedly, as she was about to hang up.

“Don’t forget that food, Savannah,” Marisol reminded her. “You know she gon ask me,” continued with a pointed look. Savannah nodded in reply. “I love you too. See you soon.” Marisol blew a kiss through the phone that Savannah dramatically caught and held to her chest.

When the call ended, Savannah scrambled into action to find her clothes for the day. The plan was shades of brown. There was a chocolate brown pullover in the car she planned to wear after letting Mari borrow it. For now she’d go for the white collared shirt, tan khakis and multicolored sneakers in shades of brown and white. So followed the routine of bra, ribbed high neck tank top, compression socks (that were easy to slide on thank god). She padded to the closet to get her shirt and pants but they were nowhere to be found. Sliding hanger after hanger, forwards and backwards but neither of them were there. Savannah knew she wasn’t tripping. Where were her clothes? When she made a slight turn around, she came to face with her dirty laundry basket and peeking out the top were the desired shirt and khakis. Savannah groaned remembering that today was Saturday. That was the outfit she planned for yesterday, which she wore…yesterday. It was also washday in every sense of the word. Savannah didn’t have any other clothes that she deemed work appropriate. She needed to throw together something, because if she wasn’t ready to go in the next 10 mins she was going to be late! Fuck it, she whispered. 

She went through her closet again and found some black yoga pants. This would do, she guessed. At least she had the pullover in car to cover her upper half. Despite the fall heat, the building’s air conditioning made the circulation desk, especially, a freezer; whoever decided to place the desk directly under that vent was incompetent in their design of the building. Savannah’s phone rang, which told her she was definitely going to be late for work. She walked back to the bathroom to silence it and grab her makeup bag. So much for shades of brown, she grumbled as she lifted her glasses, applying black liner to her lash and water lines. The light turned off when she headed toward the exit of her room and grabbed two thin, oversized gold hoops on her way out. In the kitchen, she grabbed a lunch tote, the two Tupperware dishes Ms. Taylor had given her, some chips, applesauce and two bottles of water. She decided to throw in a protein shake as the breakfast she didn’t plan to have. Savannah was close to making her way out the house. Her lunch tote and bag were already set by the entryway table, all she needed to do was put her shoes on, grab her keys and hit the road. When she looked up after tying her shoes, the mirror in the entryway revealed that with all the running around she was in earlier, she’d forgotten to tie her hair down–which was now frizzy and white? Oh hell no!

- - - - - - 

When Savannah pulled up to her place of work she was already annoyed for a variety of reasons. For one, the front of her hair decided to build a white cast due to the detangling spray and gel she used not mixing well! Because of that, she had to go back in her house and find something to cover the mess. It was a magenta bandana she grabbed at random, which was fucking with the color scheme. Second, the coveted pullover that Savannah thought was in her vehicle was nowhere to be found. She saw Marisol give it back to her and Savannah placed it in her own car, or so she thought. So it meant that she’d be out of her self-prescribed uniform and cold as hell. Arms and chest out, Savannah looked she was going to the gym NOT her library workplace. Luckily, she had the foresight to leave an extra cardigan in her workspace. But the look and vibe she wanted for the day all went to hell. And now, third, she had to cover a program she had NOT planned to and had to figure out what to cobble together. It was too early for all of this!

“What do you mean I have to cover for Amir’s program?! Can’t you just cancel it?” Savannah was in the face of her boss, Dante, who was mirroring her similar exasperation, but with eyes had a hint of fear. He was trying to keep himself together. Dante wasn’t scared of Savannah. He quite liked her a lot as an employee. She was a great librarian to the patrons, warm and inviting. Always willing to answer any question and help troubleshoot anything the patrons were struggling with. She also wasn’t afraid to break up the occasional teen fight or kick someone out of the library for doing wild behavior, like searching for or watching certain things on public library computers. Or some people thinking they could talk to her interns and volunteers any kind of way. Believing that if they threw a tantrum, they’d give in to whatever ridiculous demand they had or could solve whatever issue they deemed to be the fault of library staff and not their own inability to follow basic and clear instructions. Savannah was not the one, or the two. She seemed to have a sense that things were amiss, even if she was all the way in storage. With just a look and/or a fire tongue, she could put anyone in their place and make them reevaluate their life choices. Right now, Dante was on the receiving end of one of those looks. And he was definitely a bit unsettled. Adjusting his blue tie and white button-up, he tried to continue with his request.

“Well, Amir’s program brings in a lot of traffic for the library. That you know we need, especially since we're expanding our services again. You know, opening up.”

Savannah stared at him, not understanding how that was her problem, clearly annoyed.

Dante cleared his throat, his skin reddening at the intensity of her annoyance. “And well…I think it’d be a, um–good opportunity for you, for, for the community, to listen to what you have to say. You are a wealth of knowledge—”

“We all are, that’s why we work here,” Savannah cut him off.

“Well, yes. But the rotation was already set for today and I believe that you can come up with something great, that’ll keep the patrons here, maintain the traffic and inspire them with something new?” There was a squeak at the end of that. A fucking squeak. It definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Savannah. The smirk he couldn’t see was slowly beginning to take shape on her face. Her intense stare of irritation turned into one of satisfaction, like watching prey fall right into a trap. She considered her words before she spoke, rolling around ideas to see what she could get out of this. 

“Ok. I’ll do it,” Savannah said, crossing her arms.

“Oh thank you so much. I—”

“On two conditions.” Savannah interrupted, holding up a long, manicured nail.

“Sure,” Dante quickly nodded. He’d agree with whatever she asked for, before she changed her mind.

“One, you write Casey their letter of recommendation for the Junior Fellows Program.”

Dante considered it. He hated writing letters of recommendations, even though it was part of his job, given they had volunteers year after year who yearned for them for one program or another. He was also really great at them and Dante knew that too. Dante did like Casey, the young college student. And if Savannah vouched for them, why not?

“Done.”

“Two, you get someone else to represent our branch at the next two county meetings.”

At that though, Dante grimaced. Savannah saw his lips and face contorting in annoyance and hesitation.

Savannah hated those meetings. They were mostly people up at the bureaucratic top talking down to the “lowly” library workers who would make decisions not based in the reality of being on the ground. Savannah had gone to the last 3. The first 2 were luckily on Zoom, so she didn’t have to hop in her car and drive all the way over to meet up with all the other representatives of their respective branches and be bored out of her mind. The 3rd one was in-person, which Savannah was apprehensive about. Yes, she wore a mask and worked in such a public facing role, that she probably came into contact with people who were experiencing acute infections that she didn’t want to think about. But this had been jarring for her. Before the pandemic actually and even earlier when she started out, she didn’t mind going to the meetings, wanting the opportunity get to know other librarians and be in the know about being with her supposed colleagues, who she used to commiserate with especially in regards to the changes happening in the library system because of the pandemic; how being chronically understaffed and overworked was the norm now because people were out sick so much and people at the top weren’t getting it. Since it began, Savannah had probably covered at least 10 other branches as a one time thing or on a certain recurring basis, give or take. Everyone talked about how taxing it had been and scary and frustrating dealing with the arrival of this new thing. Because of these shared feelings, she thought she was on the same page as a lot of her colleagues. Not all of them, but at least a good number as the time kept moving forward. So when she walked into that last meeting and saw only 5 other people masked in a room of 40 people, it irritated her. She didn’t know these people intimately. And could understand why so many of them weren’t masked. Frequently given responses played in her head:

It’s not so bad anymore.

We have vaccines now. 

I don’t want people to think I’m sick.

I don’t want to attract attention.

My friend wore one and still got sick.

It’s too expensive now.

I had it twice and I’m fine.

But memories began to flash in her mind: laying down in bed struggling to breathe; the fuzziness of paramedics rolling her out the house, Damian at her side; grogginess in hospital bed but total awareness of pain; months of fatigue like she never felt before; scorn and fury toward husband turned ex-husband; scorn and fury towards family and friends who no longer had the privilege of speaking to Savannah; depression like a weighted blanket— 

And she couldn't, she just couldn’t.

Savannah maintained her steel. Not wanting to give her boss insight. She wasn’t begging or pleading. And she wasn’t asking him either, these were just her conditions. And if he wanted that program covered for real, he would say yes. She didn’t have to explain anything to him! But Dante’s face softened and Savannah feared she let something show that she shouldn’t have. Even though half her face was covered, Savannah’s eyes were always one of her most expressive features, even when she didn’t mean them to be.

“Fine,” Dante sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll get someone else to do it.”

Savannah gave Dante a nod in appreciation, “Thank you,” and turned to her workspace

—---------

The sound of a fast swinging door interrupted a conversation between the pair in the shared workspace. The two turned around to see why Savannah of all people was opening doors that hard in the morning.

“Damn, what’s got you in a mood?” Marisol interrogated looking Savannah up and down. 

Casey chuckled and answered for Savannah, “Dante voluntold her to cover Amir’s parent program.” They pulled down their Black surgical mask, smirking and taking a sip from their water bottle. Casey was dressed in a black button up, blue jeans and white sneakers with a grey zip hoodie, and black durag still on their head.

“What? Why didn’t he just cancel?” Marisol asked 

“That’s what I said!” Savannah retorted

Casey was twisting in their rolling chair, “You know them thirsty ass parents gon be disappointed and mad as hell.” They arched an eyebrow in amusement. And the three of them laughed because yes, Amir was widely regarded as attractive with a full beard, cheekbones to die for and smooth, velvety voice that could pause most children and adults. For the last 2 years, he had been one of the main facilitators for a virtual storytime program, catapulting him to larger audience of parents that have followed him back to the libraries. It was kind of wild.

“I still can't believe that he drew all them parents from Zoom. They can‘t even see his full face now but they STILL be coming in here.” Savannah said

“That face card never declines.” Casey said. 

Mari hummed in agreement, while Savannah was trying to figure out what she was meant to put together for these parents.

—

Her 2 hour shift at the front/circulation desk was spent searching up ideas for this program. It was for parents of different age groups. So a varied range in audience. A patron’s return of a cookbook sparked the idea of knowledge sharing: cooking for your family in simple ways and still getting in the nutrients with less stress. Savannah typed in a doc some of her points and searched the catalog for relevant titles that patrons might be interested in checking out.

On her break, she went outside, took her medicine and some sips of water, pacing around a bit to improve her circulation. Savannah’s phone vibrated and she checked her phone. It was from her neighbor across the street, Ms. Taylor Richmond.

My nephew Terry is coming today. So I’ll drop something off a bit after he’s settled in and you get off work.

It made Savanah smile. Ms. Taylor was absolutely wonderful to her, as a welcoming neighbor and good friend. A few more texts from her came through.

Enjoy your lunch :)

And you better give me my containers back. That’s my good Tupperware Savannah!🤨

Thank you 😊 

I’ll make sure. Marisol will too.😌

Savannah rolled her eyes in amusement. She couldn’t wait to be done with this program and eat her lunch. Ms. Taylor had told her what it was when she dropped it off, but Savannah had been tired when she picked it up and wanted to go lay down. Savannah would welcome this surprise though. 

Back inside and now free from the circulation desk, Savannah was in her workspace editing her mini slideshow. The info was good and the visuals were everything, even with adults. Shoutout to the templates of the internet. She pulled her books and other materials they might need. Not too much though, Savannah wasn’t going to stress. Even though Amir did bring in a lot of patrons and helped with the engagement of the library, a lot of parents would probably turn the other way and not show up. That was one of the first things she learned: you can put all your effort into a program and sometimes people wont show up. Savannah’d learned that it was never anything personal. Well, maybe except for this case.

——

Casey was helping Savannah bring out the A-frame for the program, letters drawn expertly in marker by their calligraphic hand. Savannah was at the reserved area, waiting for participants to arrive.

“Yeah, this shit look fire,” Casey crossed their arms and nodded at their handiwork. 

“It really is. Thank you for your help,” Savannah said with a smile that reached her eyes. Savannah knew that she wasn’t supposed to have favorites but Casey was her favorite intern by far. Well, Casey did work at the library now but they’d be gone next academic year and it kind of made her sad. She’d seen Casey grow so much over the last 2 and half years, even though half of it was in a virtual way. From getting more clarity about their future, their confidence in their abilities as an up and coming professional, their values and ways of being, pronouns going from he/him, he/they, they/he, and finally they/them, hell even being the one of the social media managers of the TikTok for their branch; which inspired them to create their own— be more visible, unafraid to take up space and indulge in the little things. Savannah wished she was like Casey when she was that age.

“Of course. And don’t worry, if any of these parents start talking to you with some bass in they voice wondering where they man at, I’ll be right across,” Casey pointed to the circulation desk, “and ready to set somebody straight.” Casey began to mimic what Savannah believed to be the yellow emoji of steam coming out the nose, and flexed their arms downward. Savannah laughed and shooed Casey to their post at the circulation desk. Once seated, Casey pointed their first two fingers from their eyes to Savannah; to which Savannah gave a mock salute.

And so the patrons began to enter, some earlier than expected. Savannah answered the question of where Amir was about 100 times, it felt like. Some parents and kids she knew from during the week, surprised to see her on a Saturday and were excited to see her. Some parents walked in the direction of the group and seemingly went the other direction, when they saw the man they were expecting wasn’t there. Some gave pause, leeriness aside, they still signed in and took their kids to a different part of the library before returning up front with Savannah. She took a breath. It’s all going to be fine.

And it was.

The hour and half had flown by faster than she’d expected. The group of parents and caregivers were a mix. Some were new, had been at it for a while, had kids who were all grown up now or were raising their own grandkids and wanted a different perspective than they had before, some caregivers were siblings raising siblings, new caregivers raising new teens. And she was surprised about their general engagement and their participation and suggestions.

Sheet pan this. Air fryer that. Blending up veggies and hiding it in pasta sauce. Bulk buying. The freezer is your best friend. Topping off water with a hint of juice and kids would be none the wiser. Frozen fruits and veggies were just as good as fresh ones (that one she got from a TikTok, and it was working for Savannah! No more wilting or spoiled produce). Vegetables need to be seasoned for kids to eat them or a nice sauce on the side. Safe foods for kids were a thing, and no sometimes they didn’t grow out of it at their big ages. Any food is better than no food. There’s nothing wrong with a lot of traditional foods. A lot of it tastes good for a reason. Sweets were okay after dinner. If you don’t restrict the sweets so much, they're bound to choose other options anyway. Your child is your child, which may even be different from your other children. They’re habits are not all the same. If your child won’t eat something that’s not your fault. And it’s not theirs either. Any food is better than no food. You can buy protein shakes with EBT. Eating out isn’t the end of the world. Let them be engaged with the process of cooking and putting their food together. 

For the most part, it seemed that everyone took away something important for them. People shared recipes they’d seen on Facebook, on Instagram, on TikTok. In fact, a good 20 minutes was spent on Savannah pulling up said recipes on the computer, so she could project them on the TV. And they all watched, bringing other curious onlookers to their area and see what was going on.

When her lunchtime came, Savannah shared more of the details with Marisol as the two ate outside.

“Wow, I’m surprised no one came for your head,” Marisol said

“Listen! I was shocked too. Although I feel that Casey may have also played a role in that. They were telling me how some guy was staring me down and—”

“What?! Wait staring you down because he was looking for his mans too or…”

“No, I don’t think so. Casey never saw him before. I just brought it up because they were lowkey doing crowd control. There was this one lady though—”

“Before you continue that thought,” Marisol gestured to the containers in front of them. Right. It was lunch time. As hungry as Savannah was, she could talk about anything long enough and forget to eat. Savannah followed suit and opened the containers. Chicken and mushroom pasta. A mini platter of sliced fruits and veggies. A large slice of pound cake. Seeing it all made her mouth water and definitely made her stop talking quickly. Savannah took her fork and got to work. In all her excitement, she hadn’t noticed Marisol taking a picture. It was as off-guard as a picture could get. Marisol sent it off to Ms. Taylor, who sent a prompt text back.

Now you know she’s gonna be mad at you for this one.😂😂

She’ll forgive me 🤷🏿‍♀️

Marisol put her phone away, tossed her two red braids behind her and dug into her food. She was happy that Ms. Taylor had split everything in separate containers for the two of them. Neither her nor Savannah were above licking the container because that’s how good the pasta was. After some time had passed, Marisol decided to go 2 for 2 in talking about something Savannah didn’t not want to hear.

“So…have you given any thoughts on what you’d want to do for your birthday?,” Marisol questioned. The look Savannah gave her should’ve made her nervous but the sight of her with food all over her mouth made her want to laugh.

“And sorry to break it to you, but your powers hold no effect on me.” Marisol fake huffed and Savannah rolled her eyes. One day they’d fall right out of her head.

“No, I haven’t. I just want to be at home,” the word home came out of Savannah’s mouth with a hint of sadness and grief.

Marisol tried to lighten the mood with some suggestions, “We can do things at home. Karaoke. Dinner and a movie marathon. Pinterest vision board. Ooh, maybe I can ask Demi if she can do like spa day massage for you.” That quirked a small smile on her lips

“Ooh maybe. I gotta see about those oh so talented hands you talk about.” Savannah said playfully and Marisol gave her a deadpan stare. 

Savannah chuckled and continued, “Look, the tension all over my body has been ridiculous. It’s got me pulling out old PT exercises. And Demi got that knot out your shoulder that’d been there for like ever, so I trust her.” She shrugged her shoulders and took a bite of a carrot.

Marisol smiled at Savannah and to herself. Savannah was grasping onto an idea, one that gave her a small hope about the future. Which is what Marisol wanted for her friend, especially after the last year she had. This was a start and she was ready to put the plans in motion.

—

It was after 5:30 when Savannah pulled into her driveway. Her lunch tote, her bag and chocolate pullover (which she’d actually left at the circulation desk of all places) were in her left arm as she wrestled to open the door. She was beyond exhausted and needed to lay down.

Savannah closed her door and placed her items on the counter. Piece by piece, she began to strip in the entryway and put those clothes in the other hamper she had. It didn’t matter how tired Savannah was. Outside clothes were never touching her furniture. She padded her way toward her room to use the restroom and find a shirt and some shorts. After she was done, Savannah took her medicine and resolved to take a nap on the couch. She laid down and placed the weighted blanket over her. She’d wake up in the middle of the night and make her way to the shower or her bed. For now she’d take her rest and wait for Ms. Taylor to drop off her Saturday and Sunday dinner. The three knocks at the door made her wince, because damn she thought she had more time before she had to get up. 

Savannah groaned lowly and announced she was coming. Bumbling her way to the front door and picking a random mask off the hook, she was so ready to greet her neighbor and then bid her adieu. She was NEVER volunteering herself ever again. Savannah opened her door and went to greet Ms. Taylor but the person in front of her was someone different altogether. And it left her in shock. Because who was this man? Showing up in a mask? With her food? With this presence?

“Hi,” Savannah’s brain spoke for her, “You must be Terry?” because she was noticing too much about him.

He nodded, “Yes, how’d you know that?”

“Your aunt. She said a nephew was staying over, that and your eyes. You two are definitely the same. Thank you for bringing this over.” Savannah had replied. “And my name is Savannah,” she added, holding her hand out for a handshake. She hoped her hand wasn’t sweating. Outside of her job she wasn’t good with new people. And well, she hadn’t had a man so close to her threshold in damn near a year. And he smelled really good too. She kind of wished she’d worn her robe out because she felt so aware of everything, including her chest she hoped he wasn’t staring at. But it was hard not to, she guessed. She was staring right past him though, not making eye contact with him for real.

But then he touched her hand. His large palm covered her own, their calluses complementing  each other; the backs of their hands so smooth. And Savannah felt something stir in her like recognition, like memory. Which would be absolutely impossible because she’d never met this man in her life. Maybe it just felt that way since Ms, Taylor did bring him up from time to time and there were pictures of the child turned man in her house. The touch made her look at him, fully. 

“Savannah,” Terry said her name as if trying to memorize it and savor it. The smile that formed on her lips when he said it. Thank goodness he couldn’t see it because she liked the way he said her name. She hoped he’d say it again.

“Savannah?” Terry asked. She must have zoned out.

“Sorry about that,” Savannah blinked herself back to reality. “Um, well yes thank you for bringing this over. And it’s nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” She was fumbling her words. Badly. And trying to act normal. Horribly! Why was she acting weird? He’s literally just a man! And she can’t even see his face! And did she just snatch the container from this man? 

He looked just as stunned as she was at herself. He blinked a few times before responding back, while rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I’ll see you around.” He gave her a short wave which Savannah returned and she watched as he made way back to the other side of the street. He reached his front door and stepped inside. When he surprisingly turned her way again, the mask was off. And her stomach dropped at the sight of him. Savannah was fucked. She was absolutely fucked.

Part 5 Preview

[theweightofmercy]

good for you - a joel miller fic

after three years away in los angeles, you return home in austin to spend the summer with friends & family. what comes as a surprise is the new way you're treated by joel, a close family friend. something in the air has shifted and you're not sure what.

{ chapter two }

a flashback to your time in los angeles and the moments leading up to your flight back home.

warnings: this chapter is pretty dark, character development, drug use mention, domestic violence, death mention, not much of joel in this chapter (so sorry but i swear it's coming)

divider from @lavendergalactic

December 21st, 2023 - Los Angeles, California - Around 2:30am.

The only thing you’re focused on right now is getting the fuck out of this elevator. Your heart is pounding so furiously that you’re certain the old lady standing across from you can hear it. You didn’t expect anyone else to be using the elevator at this time.

You watch as the floor indicator slowly counts down from thirteen. Twelve… eleven… ten… nine… eight.

Eight. You feel the elevator halt beneath your feet and your heart drops to your stomach. 

No. Fuck. Please, god, no. You were so, so close.

You shrink back into a corner of the elevator and can feel the woman’s eyes on you. You watch as the elevator doors slide open, your eyes meeting his immediately.

Dillon. Your boyfriend of almost three years.

A cold chill runs down your spine and your face flushes red. You tilt your head down, half-defeated. “Please go…” you mutter, aimed at the woman next to you. 

You swear you can feel her looking at you as if you just ran over her first born grandchild. 

She doesn’t move. Why would she? This isn’t her floor.

Your eyes are already welling with tears again, unsure if this is the 4th or 5th time this week. He wastes no time, barreling toward you, and you can see the pure outrage in his eyes. His pupils are blown wide, but you’re sure that has more to do with the amount of alcohol that’s currently flowing through his system; you hope, anyway. You gasp in pain as he forcefully takes your wrist into his hand, practically dragging you out of the elevator and down the hall. 

“Stop it!” you cry out at him. You wince, the grip he has on your wrist only tightens as he pulls you toward a stairwell. “Shut the fuck up!” he rasps at you. “FUCK– You can’t do shit like this!” he continues, letting out a strained laugh.

“Two fucking years. Two fucking years I’ve put everything I have toward you– toward our relationship. And you just think you can get up and leave in the middle of the night?” He shoves open the door to the stairwell and pushes you inside. You trip over your own feet and you hear him scoff like it annoys him. You’re sobbing, spewing broken I’m sorries, and all you can think about is what the consequences of your actions will be when he gets you back to his hotel room. 

He paces around in a broken circle, given the limited space. He’s sweating and running his hands over his jaw; you can tell he’s pissed.

“Let’s just go back to the room, baby..” you say, forcing a smile and wiping the tears from your face.

Jesus, could I sound any more pathetic? 

Anything to keep him from lashing out at you again like so many times before. Hearing you say those words was his final straw. He stops in his tracks and stares you down, he looks at you like this for what feels like eternity, pure hatred just gleaming in his eyes.

“Please, don’t–” you rasp, the fear in your eyes counteracting his. Before you can finish your sentence, he lifts his hand and lands a punch directly onto your cheekbone. The force of the hit causes you to fall backwards, and before you know what’s happening you’re stumbling down the stairs. It’s not a huge flight, maybe ten steps total, but you can’t catch your balance and fall to your knees at the base of the steps. Before you can even open your eyes you hear his heavy footsteps coming toward you again. You brace yourself for impact, putting your arms above your face in defense, only for nothing to come. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” you hear him say, sweet as pie, as if he didn’t just tread the line of attempted murder. “I wouldn’t have to do shit like this if you’d just listen to me–” he extends a hand out to you as you look up at him from your position on the floor.

He looks so fucking calm.

To be quite honest, you can’t tell if he looks calm or if his eyes are just devoid of emotion. Your heart hurts, almost as much as your face does. Your eye is already starting to swell and you can feel blood dripping from your cheek. This is not the man you met two years ago. You take his hand anyways, you quite literally have no other option in this moment. He pulls you to your feet gently and brings you to his side, into a warm, and loving embrace. 

“I love you so much, baby.” he whispers into your ear. And without hesitation, a hushed I love you too escapes from your lips. 

You can’t sleep. It’s almost 6:00 in the morning and you still haven’t slept. Dillon is fast asleep beside you, his arm sprawled out across your chest– even subconsciously making sure you don’t slip away again. Your head pounds, having not taken any medication for the pain that you knew wouldn’t subside anytime soon. Your eye is swollen shut and you can only imagine how bad it looks already. You blame yourself for the way he treats you. It’s always your fault, saying the wrong thing, stepping on his toes, staying out too late, not listening. He always had a good reason when he was angry, and you truly did believe that. 

The bad was bad, that much was true. But the good… was… so good. He was everything that you had ever imagined, ever hoped for, in a man. He just took a wrong turn a few months back… started hanging out with the wrong crowd. He relapsed, again.

You knew when you got together that he had struggled with addiction at a prior time in life, but he was doing so good. Clean for over a year; he was really getting his life back together. You thought. He just has an addictive personality, you’d tell yourself. I can fix him, I can be the support system that he needs in order to get better. I can be here for him. 

So you stay. Because he will get better. Because you will fix him. 

You miss Austin. Your dad… Sarah. After what happened the other night with Dillon, you know you can’t go home for Christmas like you’d promised them. Again. There’s no way he’d let you. And no amount of makeup would be able to hide the split and bruises on your face. You really think he may have caused a small fracture, but you don’t get it checked out. He wouldn’t like that, wouldn’t like the questions they would ask about how it happened. And besides, you weren’t dying, so it was okay. 

May 3rd, 2024 - Los Angeles, California - 7:30pm

You hadn’t planned on going home for the summer. You and Dillon had planned a road trip to Vegas with some friends, to let off some steam after the stressful school year. He seemed better, truly better. He was actively going to NA meetings and proving himself to you in every way. The best version of himself had returned; the man you fell in love with three years ago.

It was almost 8:00pm, you and him had been packing most of that afternoon, getting ready for the big trip. He had put in an order for pizza and asked that you pick it up. You were so excited to get out of the hotel. Alone. A whole hour all to yourself, not having to worry about doing or saying the wrong thing. You don't want to risk giving him any reason to fall back into his draining lifestyle.

You’re back to the hotel before 9:00, a little bummed that the trip was so quick. 

You struggle to get the door unlocked with the key card, having to shift your purse and the pizza around awkwardly. You eventually get the door open and switch the lock back behind you, setting everything down on the kitchen counters. “Baby! Pizza!” you yell out, kicking your shoes onto the floor. It’s quiet for a few minutes, you figure he’s hopped in the shower or fell asleep in bed. He’s been in a really good mood the past few days, you’re excited to spend time with him tonight, just the two of you.

He seemed better. 

You put his food together for him and head to the bedroom. You go to twist the doorknob and it doesn’t budge. It’s locked. He locked the door?

What the hell?

You knock gently, “Dillon? Can you unlock the door, babe? I have your food ready.”

Silence.

If it weren’t for the tv on in the living room you could probably hear a hair pin drop. Your heart rate picks up, your hands are clammy.

“Babe!” you’re pounding on the door now. Still no response. You’re really starting to freak out. You half-run half-walk to the kitchen, knowing you’re probably overreacting and he’s just asleep. You set the plate down and grab a bobby pin from a drawer in the bathroom. You continue knocking on the bedroom door as you fiddle with the pin, trying to unlock the door. Your hands are shaking, making the whole process that much more difficult. 

When you finally get the door open, you wish you hadn’t. He’s on the floor beside the bed, eyes open. You know immediately. He’s gone. He’s gone and he’s not coming back. That doesn’t stop you from trying, you sit over him for at least fifteen minutes, trying to recall the steps for proper CPR.

It’s not working. His skin is cold.

You’re hyperventilating, sobbing, your throat is raw. You take his hand in yours and that’s when you notice it. A needle. Still stuck in his arm. Some kind of brown liquid inside, almost empty.

He wasn’t doing better. He was high. 

You’re screaming at the 911 operator over the phone, “You have to send someone RIGHT NOW! Please–” you get out between choked sobs. Save him…save him… you sound like a broken record. You lay there on top of him until emergency services arrive. He was pronounced dead as soon as they got to the room.

You still don’t know why he insisted on staying in a hotel. 

You’ve had a nightmare every night since then.

You go home. Home to Austin, home to your dad, to Sarah. You don’t tell anyone about Dillon. The only ones who know are your friends back in California. As far as anyone at home is concerned, you haven’t had a boyfriend since junior year of high school. Survivor’s guilt is one hell of an illness, and you don’t think you’ll ever recover.

“The last time Sarah told me you were coming down was ‘round Christmas.”

“Something came up.” 

“Yeah… planned on coming the year before too, right? Something come up then too?”

You sleep until almost 6:00pm the day after your encounter with Joel. It wasn’t entirely intentional but you also had no reason to get out of bed. Maybe you were feeling a little depressed, so what? Everyone has bad days. 

If it weren’t for your dad barging in at quarter to six you probably would’ve slept through the night. “Ya’ ain’t been home in three years and all you wanna do is sleep and lounge all day?” he huffed, standing in your doorway. You groaned and rolled in the opposite direction. “I need you up and movin’ by 7:00– I invited Sarah and Joel for dinner.”

That got your attention. 

You were awake now, as if you’d been up for hours. 

Great. 

hi! this chapter was a little dark (oops)

chapter three is back to current day, and dinner with joel >:)

please feel free to leave your thoughts and opinions on my story! likes & shares are always appreciated x

[its-time-to-write]

your mind is not your friend

HUGE shoutout to @whimsical-roasting for being an absolute babe and helping me out of my writing slump. Been feeling like I’m just churning out the same story over and over, but she gave me a prompt that absolutely knocked it out of the park! This actually contains chunks of text from our conversation, she was so helpful. Literally could not have written it without her, so be sure to check out her page and see what she’s got going on.

your mind is not your friend

It’s 2:30am on the dot, and you’re in your car, staring at the steering wheel. How did I get here? you ask yourself, rhetorically. You know exactly how you got to be in this driveway at this god-awful time in the morning.

You had been awake two hours ago, and sent a u up? text to a somewhat-friend you met at a bar a couple weeks ago. He was attracted to you, you needed to blow off steam, and thus your relationship began. “Relationship,” being used in the most technical sense of the term.

Pretty much all you did was hit each other up for sex, but that was kind of the whole point. You had no feelings for him, he didn’t have any for you, so you were in a mutually beneficial friends-with-benefits type situation. No strings attached.

The sex wasn’t bad, it was actually pretty good, especially if it was dark enough and you were feeling delusional enough to convince yourself he was someone else. On occasion you’d have to bite back a moan with the wrong name on your lips, but you’re pretty sure this guy wouldn’t have noticed.

But here you are, at 2:30 in the fucking morning, feeling strangely empty.

As you pull out of his driveway, you promise yourself this is your last hookup with this dude.

You can’t bring yourself to have another night like tonight.

It’s weird. You feel weird. You’re too aware of your arms and legs, and the night lighting isn’t helping anything. There’s barely anyone on the road, and you can’t bring yourself to turn on any music. 

You’re just tired because god, the sex was good, sure, but it was emotionless. He didn’t match your energy nor your affection, and it felt physically draining.

You’re not even sure where you’re driving but you’re sure as hell not going home right now. You pull your car to the side of the road under a streetlight and just sit.

After a few minutes, you pull out your phone and toy with it for a second, then think fuck it and call Jamie. You’re pretty sure it’s too early for him to be awake for training, but you never know until you try, right?

Right. 

He picks up on the first ring. “Yeah, love?” he says by way of greeting, voice thick with sleep. 

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” you ask. “I wasn’t sure what time you woke up and I’m having a shit night, so I thought I’d just check to see if you were up. You can go back to sleep.”

“Not asleep,” Jamie yawns. “Been up for a bit. You alright?”

You pause. There’s something about Jamie’s voice that’s bringing tears to your eyes. 

“Darling?” he asks softly, “You still there?”

You nod, then remember he can’t see you. “Yeah, I’m still here.” You can’t erase the tears from your voice. 

You can hear Jamie turn a light on somewhere in his house. The mental image of him padding around that big empty house calms you somewhat. 

“It’s just-” you start then stop. 

“Hm?” Jamie hums, encouraging you on. 

“I don’t wanna get into it, but he didn’t even make me feel desirable. The entire night he was like ‘Yeah, sure, whatever. Fine, let's get it over with,’ and I felt like a pity fuck even if we didn't go all the way. And I’m just- just tired,” you finish lamely. 

All you get back is silence. 

“Jamie?” you say, half-pleadingly, desperation tingeing your voice. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here. Come to mine, yeah? I’ll unlock the door, so just walk in.” His voice sounds thick again, almost like he’s crying, but you chalk it up to the early hour and start your car again. 

—

You’re at Jamie’s house in no time at all, walking up the steps through the doorway and into his arms. You can’t even cry at this point, because it just feels like too much work.

“D’you want a shower?” Jamie asks, chin on top of your head. “I already pulled out some clothes for you, and I can throw these in the laundry. They’ll be a little big, but,” he shrugs, arms still around you. 

You tilt your head up and nod, no energy for words. He says “Alright then. You know where you’re going,” so you make your way up the stairs.

“Gonna make some food,” he calls after you, “You know I fuckin’ hate eating alone, so you have to eat some too.”

—

After a long, long hot shower, you’re in Jamie’s clothes and headed back downstairs. Your skin feels raw from where you scrubbed it, but you’re starting to feel more like yourself. As you walk into the kitchen, Jamie looks up from where he’s making grilled cheese on the stove.

He asks, “How you feeling, love?”

Love. Darling. God, his pet names are going to kill you. You’re not sure why you thought this was a good idea.

You’ve been in love with Jamie Tartt for, like, ever. He was just so funny and so sweet and so goddamned sexy. 

You are positive you have no chance with him, given his dating history. He’s not really one for commitment. You figure if he were interested, he would have made a move by now, but he’s comfortable where you are, just being friends.

You’ve been doing your best to erase all feelings from your body, hence: casual sex. 

It was working out great for you in all respects, obviously.

But, to answer Jamie’s question, you just shrug. He seems to pick up on the I can’t speak vibe, so he tilts his head at you, lower lip sticking out in sympathy.

“Right,” he says, flipping a grilled cheese sandwich on a plate, “take this and go sit over there.” He points to the couch. “You want anythin’ to drink?”

You shrug again, so Jamie goes to the fridge and pulls out two bottles of water. He grabs his own plate and you follow him to the couch.

He sits down first and pats the space right next to him, so you sink into the cushion. He adjusts so you’re curled into his right side, arm slung around you.

You eat in silence, and you can feel yourself slowly floating back into your body. It’s funny, really, because you hadn’t realized you were detached. 

The sandwiches are long gone, and you’re feeling more like talking, all wrapped up in Jamie’s too-large hoodie and sweatpants. Your face is the only thing that’s been visible this whole time, hood pulled up. Jamie’s hand has been running a comforting pattern up and down your arm, and it hits you that sitting on the couch with Jamie feels more affectionate than literally kissing a man who was like a damp board of plywood essential.

“I’m sorry.”

Jamie looks at you in surprise. “How d’you mean, love?”

You return his gaze, teary-eyed. “You have training and shit soon, and you’re supposed to be getting rest. I know you lied about me not waking you up. And I shouldn’t’ve bothered you. It’s my problem and my fault that I even feel like this.” You stare at the empty plates on the coffee table in front of you. “God, I don’t know… maybe I’m too affectionate. Like, I was kissing all over his face and he barely even did anything back. I know it’s just sex and not a relationship. I don’t even want him that way. But it just feels like it fucking sucked my soul out of me.”

You feel Jamie shift slightly, and you catch the tail end of what you think is- a wince?

It just makes you feel worse. “I felt undesirable and I KNOW I didn't look it tonight. I looked desirable as fuck. But he kept on being like 'yeah, sure, whatever spread your legs.’ And I want to be wanted, you know.. like, crave me like it's a not a chore.” Your shoulders slump as Jamie sucks in a breath. His hand, which has maintained a steady pace on your arm, is erratic now. You misinterpret the wince and the breath and keep going.

“Look, I know that you… you know, you’ve had sex with a lot more people that I have. I’ve been with like, three, including this guy. I know that I messed up, it’s just- I don’t want to feel cheap, you know?”

You can’t look at Jamie. You’re not sure that you can bear him explaining how you’ve breached some innocuous rule of casual sex. You can feel his eyes burning a hole through the hoodie. You didn’t realize you were using it as protection until you felt like you lost it.

You force yourself not to cry, and determine to pokerface your way through whatever Jamie has to tell you. He slides off the couch until he’s on the floor in front of you reaching for your hands.

“That fucking bag of dicks don’t deserve you,” he says, with such feeling that you’re sure you misheard him. You just keep staring past him at that empty plate.

“Oi, did you hear me?” Jamie says bringing up one hand to gently pinch your chin. “He don’t. Any man that makes you feel this shitty about yourself, especially after spendin’ the night with you, is a fucking piece of shit.” He squeezes your hand. “That arsehole has no fucking idea what he let slip away.”

His words are so far from what you expected that you’re having trouble registering them.

You let out a hoarse, “What are you saying,” and Jamie chuckles ruefully.

“I’m saying- shit. This is a shit time to be telling ya, but fuck it.” He takes a breath. “I really fucking like you. I think you’re fucking great. I’ve hated hearing you talk about that arsehole since the first time you fucking went home with him. Told meself that it should’ve been me you were goin’ home with, not that prick. I love when you’re affectionate. You know, when you fucking… hug me too hard ‘cause you’re excited bout somethin’ or kiss me forehead before leaving. But I didn’t want to fuck up what we already have going, so I didn’t fucking say anything. I should’ve said something a million fucking times, but I’m saying it now. It ain’t your fault. It’s that prick’s fault for making you feel fucking disgusting about the best part of you.”

You’re not starting at the plate anymore. You’re staring at Jamie’s face, and his pleading eyes, and you feel your soul reconnect to your body. You slide off the couch and into his arms, both of you on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table. He holds you like you’re the only thing anchoring him to earth when, in reality, you think it just might be the other way around. 

Jamie wraps one arm extra tight around your waist and heaves you two off the floor. 

“C’mon,” he says, voice muffled from his face buried in your neck, “we’re going the fuck to sleep.”

“You have training,” you remind him into his hair. 

“Nah,” he says, beginning to walk you to the stairs. “Told Coach I was sick right after you hung up.”

“Oh,” you say in a small voice. You can feel him smiling against your skin. 

“Right,” Jamie says. “I’m done fucking talking. Let’s get some proper sleep, yeah?” 

You nod, and he takes you all the way upstairs into his room. It’s the second time within four hours that your in another man’s bed, but this time feels different. This time is checking all the boxes you were looking for, and this time, you have the one you want.  

[mittykidi]

okay so pico and otis ramble at 2:30am because showers this late make you think a lot about things. im gonna put it ubder the cut bcz i hate scrolling through longass text posts hhdgdghd

i think pico would be envious of otis sometimes in relation to their family. i use envy and jealous different btw, to me jealousy is when youre mad at someone for having what you want and you want to lash out at them, and envy is when youre happy for that person but you also feel kind of sad/mad (not at them tho) because you wish you had what they had. in my brain anyway, theyre different like that i hope that makes sense.

otis's father, based on what little we see of him, which isnt a lot so maybe take this all with a grain of salt, at least tries getting otis out of the house. he at least gives otis positive feedback and he seems like he's trying to be enthusiastic for him. even when we first see him in the game, i feel like the dialogue was a little banter-ish, but that could just be me being bad at reading tones. and towards the end he clearly cares about their safety, although you could argue hes just looking out for himself, i dont think thats the case.

meanwhile, pico clearly doesnt like his father, he basically says he hopes he fucking dies- which is aggressive and probably very sincere since pico has very clear lines drawn in his head for who deserves death/ judgement and who doesnt. i dont think he was exaggerating at all. i imagine picos father probably forgets pico exists, or would go places without even asking pico, e.g. he would go visit the grandmother without bringing pico, although personally i dont think picos father even seems like the type who would visit their mother lol. pico probably wanders around the streets all the time/ visits friends/ visits otis cause he doesnt wanna be home.

anyway, i dont really have a point to all of this except to say pico being exposed to what a healthier relationship around family looks like makes him angrier at himself and his father for not being able to have that growing up. otis can kinda pick up on this sometimes, pico doesnt know it but otis tries supporting him subtly, asking him to join in on things n such.

actually thinking about it now, in picos cousin 2, they all seem to move together. tbh it wouldnt suprise me at all if pico just slowwwly moves in with his cousin instead of returning home and being neglected. his father probably wouldnt even notice as long as hes getting benefits still.

almost completely unrelated- but pico has definitely plotted murder against his father- only in his head though, he would never act on it, as muchn as he hates his father its still his father. unless like.. he snapped or something. i mean the gun is right there.. hes familiar with how it works. or maybe he could rig the car to explode, hes seen darnell rig one before, it shouldnt be hard... but that would never happen right? right? righ- <- pico when he has intrusive thoughts about murdering his dad (hes only ever even mentioned this to darnell and nene)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta for waking up my friend every night?

for easier finding: 💀💤

i’m (25m) on a trip with a friend (22m) right now out of the country. every single night so far (4 nights) he’s woken me up some way or another. it’s not on purpose but he’s making no effort to be considerate. the most recent example, he woke me up at 2:30am by turning on the overhead light to get to the bathroom. i asked why he didn’t just use his phone flashlight and he said he forgot. i’ve asked him every single time to make an effort to stop waking me up but it doesn’t seem like he will.

so wibta if i start doing the same? getting up at 2am and turning on lights and making noise? talking it out isn’t working and idk what else to do to make him understand how frustrating it is. obviously by the time this is published i will have already done it but id like to know if i’m the asshole for it