#how to get someone to leave your house without being rude

[lawofficeofryansshipp]

Unlawful Detainer: Resolving Property Occupancy Disputes in Florida

Unlawful Detainer: Resolving Property Occupancy Disputes in Florida

Florida Unlawful Detainer In the realm of property disputes in Florida, an Unlawful Detainer lawsuit serves as a legal recourse for property owners seeking the removal of an unauthorized occupant.  This legal action is commonly initiated in scenarios involving break-ups between couples, overstaying family members, and instances of squatting. Distinguishing itself from the eviction process, an…

[autisticlee]

have realized the way my sister talks to me is a trauma trigger and I can't escape it because no matter what I do she still talks to me that way and i've told her to stop because I hate it and it makes me feel horrible so please try to talk to me differently. but she just rolls her eyes and continues to say worse things. she gets to live her best life and be happy because the way she treats me doesn't affect her at all, while I have to spend the next week with trauma related flashbacks and rumination and feeling like shit against my will. and she doesn't care. it's my problem that she's my problem! she doesn't need to take responsibility for anything! she grew up being taught she's invincible and can treat me like shit and never get punished. she learned to fake cry and get me in trouble. no one believes me or cares. i'm the bad kid and she's a perfect angel. because of that, my parents don't care and tell me to "ignore/get over it"

IF CURING TRAUMA WAS EASY AS DECIDING TO GET OVER IT– 😒

[bluemoonbun]

Reader is implied to like feminine things, though gender identity is kept ambiguous.

Damian was a good brother. That’s what he always told himself. He was a good brother, a good son. He was cold, rude, and erudite, but he was able and willing to help anyone who needed it.

When he arrived at Wayne manor, Bruce told him the general run down of why you were to be avoided when it came to anything vigilante related. You were still pure, a year younger than Damian but without any of the pain. The only one in the Wayne manor that could have a shot at becoming a normal person. Damian envied that, but kept it to himself. His anger often boiled to the top, drops of green venom dripping from his mouth when you tried to annoy him into spending time with you.

Your complaints of him ignoring you was scalding water on his already raw nerves. Why would you complain about not being the center of attention for five damn seconds? He would trade anything for the life you had. A life where you could lay around after school and never worry about a rogue bullet lodging itself in your arm, or a poisonous plant releasing psychedelic spores into an open wound.

You could and would never join the Robins. You were weak; it was in your blood. Always sickly, always the pacifist. You wouldn't survive a day in his life. And you weren't living his life; you were living his dream.

But apparently the effort the family was putting in wasn’t enough.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed that the manor felt… off about two weeks before the fight with Joker. He couldn’t trace it for the life of him at first. When he realized by the second week that he hadn’t spoken to you in days, or really seen you around the manor at all, he wrote off the worms writhing in his stomach. You must’ve been busy with a class assignment and had little time to annoy him with your demands of time together.

After the fight, however, he was a war of a thousand emotions. How dare you leave them? Why would you turn away an easy life fat on nepotism for a group of murderers, con men, the dredges of Gotham’s society?

Were you truly that desperate to be acknowledged that you’d turn your back on the family who did everything for you? He hopes you’re happy there, since you were clearly so upset at not being given attention.

Over time, however, things start to change. A few days after Jason made a full recovery, Damian looked at one of the drones Tim managed to get a chunk of code from. It took a lot of trial and error, and the development of an entirely new program to grab some of the code before it bricked itself, and enough all nighters and energy drinks that any doctor would faint, but it was managed. The code was dense, optimized to work with the least bloat possible, well tagged variables, and even a handful of comments in the code.

//Buy Bane those Boston Donuts from the donut shop on 5th //Why does this code need to be here so it doesn’t auto brick itself. What is in the code protecting it from the wrath of God //Louie likes Texas barbecue ribs. Possible treat? //DO NOT FEED THEM WHOLE RIBS. COOKED BONES BAD. //SINCE WHEN WAS THIS VARIABLE A STRING??? IT WAS AN INT 5 LINES AGO //Help the hopeless lesbians get together. //Would Harley and Ivy dating make Harley my mom or Ivy my big sister? Both???

His eyes skimmed the retrieved comments, laughing at a few. It seems that Bane, Poison Ivy, and Harley Quinn were the most common subjects of the notes, though a few mentioning the Iceberg lounge asking what non-alchoholic drink you’d like added, or Riddler offering you another puzzle to keep your mind active. Even Joker was mentioned, though it seemed mostly transactional.

It was strange seeing you in this light. You seemed to have a lot of spice in you, but a heart made of gold. You were definitely surprised whenever one othe villains offered to take you on some trip to amusement parks, regular parks, even just willingly watching anime with you. It was odd to see. Surely someone at the house did those things with you? He didn’t but he was extremely busy with school and vigilantism. Jason was legally dead, so surely he had all the time in the world.

“How was I supposed to relate to them? They’re what, 12 and into shit like that one with the cat looking dog thing and the robot girl. I have shit to do. Y’know, managing Crime Alley?”

Well, Dick had come over to hang out plenty of times. Surely he’d spent at least a few hours with you every now and then? “I have an entire team and criminals to manage of in another city, Damian. I don’t have as much time as you think to do whatever it was with them they’d wanted to do”

Maybe Tim? “I have college and stuff, Damian. And I don’t have the energy to put into hanging around them. I’d probably just be sleeping most of the time.

Bruce? “I have to manage you, Gotham, and the Justice League, Damian. I barely have time for myself.”

… Alfred? “I tried, Master Damian. However I’m constantly pulled thin between so many tasks. Besides, all you have is school most days, and you’ve had summer vacations and weekends. Shouldn’t you’ve had plenty of time to spend with your younger sibling?”

… He did have the most time outside of vigilantism. And it took him a week to realize you were missing.

You had to realize that they were under extreme stress though, right?He couldn’t spend all his free time with you. He had his own friends to hang out with. How were you two even supposed to relate?

One day at dinner, the thoughts were thrashing in his head, slamming against soft tissue and tearing through brain matter. He aimlessly poked at the food on his plate.

“You alright, replacement?” Jason asked, pausing in his extremely rare dinners with everyone else. Alfred had promised him a tray of fudge to take home this time around, and nobody made fudge quite as good as he did.

“… They were gone for two weeks.”

Everyone stopped eating as he continued.

“Two weeks. Two full weeks before they showed up at that fight. Did anyone here even know? I only noticed after a week and assumed they were just holed up in their room with a class assignment or something.” He was rambling. Everyone was quiet and looking at each other. How did it manage to slip past everyone? They were detectives, for Christ’s sake.

They were your family.

—

Dinner ended with guilt wrapping around their throats and pulling.

Eventually, all of them found themselves in your room. It had been emptied, but showed no signs of struggle. All the small items, the comforter, and your clothes were gone. But what was taken left something behind. Copies of photos of you winning state level competitions, letters requesting your attendance at seminars, photos of gold medals and blue ribbons spread across the floor. Most damning of all was the most recent photo. A certificate by some big time tech company being handed to you. Edward Nashton stood behind you, a firm, reassuring hand on your shoulder.

When had this happened? They never remembered hearing of something like this. A news clipping on the back told them it was maybe a week before you left.

“The Wayne prodigy stated that their family had more important things to see to than such an occasion. I can’t imagine something more important that either of my kids being recognized by a multi-million dollar tech company! I remember postponing an anniversary with my husband to celebrate our child placing second in the science fair. But I guess that’s just the Waynes for you!”

That’s just the Waynes to you.

But it’s ok. He can make it better. He can be a good big brother. He can spend time watching anime with you and decorating your room with lace and fairy lights and go makeup shopping with you. You just need to come home. Now.

---------------- Taglist! Ask to be added!

@jjsmeowthie , @jsprien213 , @ladyrosemone

[cheyisagirlkisser]

can you write a pit fighter vi smut fic where the reader works at a restaurant in zaun and vi comes in drunk and starts flirting with her pretty please 😼

Thank you sm for the request:3 hope you enjoy!

Content: 1.5k words, dub-con (Vi is drunk), casual sex, use of strap-ons (r! recieving), oral sex (r! receiving), slight overstimulation, this is rlly filthy blame anonymous for giving me the ammo to write this

Your hands are busy with several plates and your feet are sore in your shoes. Customers in Zaun have no decorum, either!

Being a waitress is not fun, especially not in a dingy restaurant like "The Sludge Pit." It's where most people are coming back from watching fights next door and want a cheap meal. To say that you hate you job is an understatement. But...money is tight, so choices are limited. It could be worse. You could be a prostitute at Babette's.

You've heard rumors that the fight tonight is going to be huge. There's a recently been a new fighter people have been placing bets on - a girl named Vi. You've heard the name before, of course. Jinx's sister, someone who was involved with a Piltie girl. You hated to get involved with all of the drama in Piltover, though; it was all meaningless. It was all just pointless drama that ended in another person in Zaun getting the short end of the stick or dead without a proper burial. Whatever happened was so hard to care about when it felt like an everyday thing.

However, something about the girl you've been hearing rumors about intrigued you. It is apparently often that this Vi chick is bulldozing men in the ring, getting drunk off her ass, and fucking Babette's whores. She got her heart broken, now she's all bitter, and you can't help but wonder what this girl is even like. What could she possibly be like when she's this well-known in the under-city?

It's around midnight. The fight is over because a huge crowd is occupying The Sludge Pit. You've got your poor hands full, tasked with scribbling down rude men's orders and serving them. Some are fucking creepy, too. You wonder if the Vi girl will be coming in tonight, but your curiosity is suddenly dashed when you hear the restaurant BOOMING with cheers from the main area.

When you walk out of kitchen, the first thing you see is the back left table seated with a black-haired girl. She's got no shirt on, just bandages that hug her body and a leather jacket. Her jeans are tightly fitted, sculpted onto her meaty things. The black pigment on her face is all messy. Next to her is a burly brunette man, facial hair covering most of his face. You've seen him before - "Loris."

When you approach Vi's table, she looks up at you and lets out a slight laugh. You look devourable, your hair back in two braids, fly-aways from the day's work. Your eyes are wide, and you look pretty terrified. Poor waitress. She's already decided that you're gonna be her next slut.

"Hi! I'll be your waitress today, what can I get for you-" Your voice is so shaky, oh fuck.

Usually, Vi wouldn't be so forward, but she just got back from the bar. There's too much liquid courage in her system, so now she's gonna get what she wants.

"Don't worry 'bout me, baby. Get my friend Loris here a burger."

You almost choke on your own spit.

Her voice isn't at all what you expected, not raspy or deep, but actually soft and persuasive. She's slurring her words slightly, but you're too focused on her eyes, the soft blue sparkle in them and the half-lidded, carefree look that is complimentary.

"Uhhh, okay! One burger coming right up!"

You soon come back with a shaky hand, plate in your palm. You set the burger down and look up down, adjusting your waitress skirt.

"One burger!"

Vi gives you a wide, lazy smile. Loris is just laughing, he's probably as drunk as her.

"Thanks, baby. How much will that be?"

"Ohhh....well, it's on the house. Since you won tonight, and all.." All rationale seems to leave you when Vi's calling you baby. Your boss is gonna chew you out for this, but the drunken giggle that leaves her mouth is so worth it.

"On the house? No, baby..c'mon, lemme pay."

You laugh and blow a stray strand of hair out out of your face. Her voice makes you imagine her throwing you around on your bed. "No, really, it's fine.."

"Hm..well, if you're not gonna let me use my money, why don't I pay you back in some other way?"

You stare at her for a second.

"What...?"

She chuckles at the cute but shocked look on your face. "Seriously. I wanna pay you back for the burger, since you're such a cute little waitress.."

She's got you in her twin-sized bed as she pounds into you at a pace you're surprised doesn't break the bed. You look utterly cock-drunk underneath her as her hips slam into yours: eyes practically rolled back into your noggin, whining on each and every thrust she gives your sopping pussy. Fuck, she's already obsessed with you.

Her hands are holding the back of your knees to keep you in position, and she pulls the cock halfway out of your pussy and slams back in, earning herself a wounded squeal from you.

"That's it, baby. Take all of my cock like a good girl," she coos, her eyes moving down to watch the hot-pink silicone disappear in your pretty pussy, and she's almost drooling at the sight.

"P-Please!! Please fuck me, oh my god!" You're screaming for her (soon you'll be creaming), and all Vi can think is how she wants to lick the cum out of your pussy when she's done plowing into you.

She laughs and spreads you legs back so she can hitch them around her own waist, still throwing sloppy thrusts into you. Your legs automatically wrap around her sides and she collapses onto your body, mouth wet and lazy on your throat. She's hardly thrusting now, just grinding up into your cunt like a dog in heat.

"Ohhh, fuckkk...this is the best pussy I've had in so fucking long, did you know that?" She's whimpering like she's not the one slinging strap..

You can't even answer with a proper response, only offering up a broken moan because in this position, the cockhead of the toy is bullying your sweet, spongey spot and making you see stars. By grinding into you, the base of the harness is catching on Vi's clit perfectly, making her her pace grow less and less composed She's fucking you like a touch deprived cave-man, for fuck's sake.

You hear feel her body tense up, and now she's pounding into you, each time your skin connects her body is pressing further into your, grinding her pussy against the harness, making you whine her name.

"You want me to cum inside you, huh? I bet you'd just love that. Wish I actually could cum inside this sweet little pussy." Her words grow more and more deranged the longer she's fucking you, and they send you right over the edge with a gasp and a cry out. For mercy, or for bliss, she isn't able to tell.

You poor legs are shaking around her waist and your voice is chanting her name like a prayer along with cute little cries of "I'm cumming for you, Violet!!" You indeed did cum, your face all flushed and your hips bucking up into hers, making her own cunt clench with need as she hits her own peak. She kisses you to swallow your sweet whines, tongue sliding against yours so you can taste the Vodka on it. She's just rutting into your pussy, and she swears she can feel your walls milking her cock like it's real. The alcohol in her system really does make her delusional.

When she's done, she pulls out of you and throws the strap-on somewhere in the floor, immediately moving down your body to suck the cum out of your tender hole.

You whine and protest, "V-Vi!! Too sensitive!"

She moves her lips to give your clit a firm suck and holds you legs open, "shh, just need to clean you up first.."

Her tongue moves to fuck your pussy as deeply as it can, filling you with the hot, wet muscle, and grazing your overstimulated g-spot until you're begging for mercy and she relented to go swirl around your previously neglected clit.

Her hands are groping your tits, your own tugging at her shitty dye-job as you buck your hips up in the air for more. She doesn't stop, giving you exactly what you want, sucking at your engorged clit and flicking it shamelessly with her tongue.

"Fuckk, V-Vi!! I'm gonna cum again!!"

Your juices paint her face so perfectly, mixing in with her black make-up and making an even bigger mess of your sopping cunt. She pulls back to see your face all red, soft little pants leaving your lips, and your chest heaving like you just ran a marathon. You look perfectly ruined, your hole still wrecked from the cock she fucked you with and your braids messed up into oblivion, but you look satisfied. She really paid you back for that burger, didn't she?

Safe to say, The Sludge Pit is her favorite place to find a meal at.

[mynameisjag]

For @ace-in-disgrace and their prompt: Danny gets mistaken as the love child of the disasters known as Wolverine and Deadpool.

Okay, it was not Danny's fault, he swears!

He was just experimenting with his ice, playing around with some of the younger yetis in the Far Frozen for fun. So shaping his ice to cover his hands to copy the paws of the others and seeing how well he could cut through solid hard frozen ice was just a game. The rough housing was to be expected, everyone tossing each other to see how far they could be thrown was fun.

Being picked up and tossed at the right exact moment a portal opened up was not fun or expected and he blamed Clockwork. The entity had to be responsible somehow for him not being able to enjoy a day of hanging out with Frostbite and the others.

Landing right in the middle of a what looked like a swat happening in an abandoned warehouse, armored people instantly aiming their rifles at him as he stood up wasn’t even surprising given his luck.

Fair though, he was currently looking more on the feral side to match his playmates then his normal ghost form.

“Hey, what’s with hostility? Can’t someone just pop in somewhere without-“, and he was shot in the shoulder, cutting his sentence off, “rude.”

It was just a regular bullet, so it was easy for his form to just…push it out and heal the hole up.

One of the men reached up to touch a device attached on his ear, “Unknown possible mutant has breached the facilities, age around 12-15, regeneration showed, animal like features-“

“You know it’s really rude to talk about someone like that to their face, no manners at all.”

“Unfortunately satirical.”

There was a crash from above as red and yellow forms busted through the glass, the guns swinging their aim at the two men landed.

“Sassiness is always welcomed!”, the red man had his own guns out and was already firing as he talked.

Danny had decided to dodge over to a pile of crates as all the attention was on the new intruders, eyes wide as an arc blood barely missed him as the one in yellow unsheathed long blades from his knuckles.

He glanced at his own hands, he couldn’t make a working gun from ice but…concentrating…he slowly watched as ice built up into copies, looking very much like it was growing from his skin.

An armored body was flung his way and he instinctual reacted…there were now two halves of a one man and he was covered in the viscera.

He froze…did he…oh…oh no…he had to go, he had to go now.

“Ope, looks like someone's first kill! Look at you Jack Frost,” the red guy with guns was now standing above him on a bigger crate, waving down at the teen, “awe, tiny puppy claws!”

Danny took a swing at the crate, watching as it collapsed and the man fell, laughing the entire time he went down.

He quickly turned to run, only to run into a wide chest where he promptly bounced off and landed ass first on the floor, “What in the-I have literally ran into steel walls softer then you.”

Claw man snorted as he reached down and picked Danny up by the scruff, “You alright kid?”

Said kid just hissed at him.

Claws was chuckling, “Cute, now put back your claws, I think it’s time for a chat.”

“Is it finally our turn for the found family and misunderstandings trope,” the red man was back and had swaggered up to the other two, an arm being thrown over his partners shoulders, “Hi, there and welcome, I’m Deadpool and this is Wolverine and we’re your new dads.”

“No.”

“No?”

Danny smiled, all sharp teeth, “No,” and promptly went invisible and intangible, escaping out of the warehouse while he could, leaving the other two behind.

He had to find a portal home.

Wade went limp, using Logan as a brace, “But I wanted to pull a ‘Batman’…”

The response was a snort and Wolverine sniffing his own hand, growling as he took the child’s scent in, “Don’t know what your talking about but, I can track him down, we probably need to before more of these fucks show up and get their hands on him.”

Hope you enjoyed it!

[ennabear]

heyyy i need loser sevika hc or literally anything do wtv you want im obsessed and i needdds

HEHEHEYAYYYYY i’m glad my loser!sevika thought was well received because i’ve had her on the brain recently… here are some general headcanons, but lemme know if y’all want more or anything specific!!! nsfw at the end so 18+!!!

definitely has no awareness of her surroundings. and the fact that she’s huge makes this even better. bumping into tables at the bar— even knocking them over, running into people 24/7, stepping on and tripping over her cape to the point that the bottom is constantly muddy and shredded… yeah. but it’s so adorable to watch her stumble around!!

i think she’s one of those people who always just quietly eavesdrops. her presence can go unnoticed if she wants it to, so she just leans against a wall and listens to two people share every secret she could ever need about their current enemy. fuck, she’ll probably even take notes and leave the notepad full of info on silco’s desk.

we all know that she’s mastered the scary lady facade, but other than that i think she just… i dunno how to put this nicely… sucks at talking to people. you cannot have a normal conversation with her because she’ll just talk too fast and trip over her words, or she’ll stare at you like she’s trying to kill you the whole time. it takes patience!!! if you’re nerding out with her about mechanics or shimmer variants or something, she’ll go on forever and not let you speak. it’s not like she’s trying to be rude, it’s just that she finally trusts someone enough to talk, and boy does she have a lot to say.

when you first met she was probably this way too, just with wayyyy more blushing and stuttering. if you ever call her cute after one of her rants, she’ll actually short circuit. she’d forget everything she was talking about and stare at you with stars in her eyes and find it suddenly hard to breathe. and is it hot in here? god she’s sweating now, how strange.

i think it would be good for her to be with someone who is more extroverted and will drag her ass out of the house (which is bad for me because i’m even more of a loser than she is…) because she probably sucks at being confrontational or having fun. not that she isn’t funny, she just doesn’t prefer to tell her jokes or to engage in conversation. she calls it being reserved and you call it being shy. (you’re right and she doesn’t want to admit it.)

ok nsfw thoughts now…

strap sucker supreme!! literally her favorite thing ever. she’ll sit under your desk forever and just gag herself on it. probably cumming in her pants with how good you feel down her throat, especially if you run your hands through her hair while she does it. hell yeah!! she could die happy between your legs this way.

imagining that the brothel doesn’t exist in this loserverse (or at least she doesn’t visit it), she’s definitely a virgin when she first meets you!! poor baby would cry her eyes out the first time you fuck her, practically screaming at how good you’re making her feel. she’s never been this intimate with anyone before, never felt so good about herself and her body, and fuck you’re good at this.

she probably loves dry humping and grinding too. you can’t cuddle with her without feeling her hips slowly start to move against you under the blankets. if you tease her about being horny or needy, she’ll just bury her face in your neck and muffle her whimpers. but of course you’ll help her get off, she’s so hard working and deserving of it, of course. just a lil bit of teasing first!!!

hehehe playing into the humiliation side of this (well, not really, she just thinks everything she does is humiliating), imagine asking her very nicely to wear her strap in public, especially if you pick out a tight pair of jeans for her that makes it obvious. the whole time she’d be wide eyed and on edge, assuming that everybody knows, but really nobody can tell because of the way she’s refusing to move her cloak. she won’t even let you grope her or look in her general direction. but also she’s blinded by horniness, she can’t even see straight because the only thing in her mind is how she’s gonna get to fuck you when you get home.

not really nsfw but i think sex with her would also just be so fun!! she’d be giggling at herself and clumsily trying to position you both, or you’d be accidentally kicking each other the whole time in a tangle of limbs and hair and kisses. so fun… so cute… where is my loser butch… (that’s a joke lol i’m the loser butch oops)

[rene-darling]

Innocent scaramouce first time with dom fem reader?

Innocent little kabukimono

...yandere reader...red flag reader!...toxic relationships please do not imitate irl...I think.. I took way too much creative liberty with this..but-...im tired of seeing innocent readers x corrupted men. We need so corrupted yandere-ish readers!...

...kabukimono x yandereish reader...

Innocent little kabukimono who knows nothing of real life, and is just oh so naive. And you, this corrupted person who goes around doing whatever they please, leading on a man and then ditching him for good, a cruel harbinger who revels in the suffering of the innocent, and oh my is he innocent.

Kabukimono who doesn't know right from wrong, he doesn't even have life's most basic skills. The perfect man for you to corrupt.

Kabukimono who doesn't know that kisses are only meant to be shared by lovers and to be done in private, so you might be in the middle of talking to another harbinger when he approaches you and casually leaves a kiss on your lips.

The other harbinger and your underlings are left in a state of shock. He kissed you And he still has his head?? Kabukimono notices their weird stares and questions them "Hm? Do you not know? This is something friends do with each other!" he informs them proudly. He's your dearest friend.

Dear little kabukimono who gets scared when you come home drenched in blood, but you just smile at him and open your arms. He knows he can't deny you, you told him that denying your friend's hug is very rude!

So he hugs your bloody form, shivering a bit. You're so cold, like a corpse. It's okay. You reassure him, that you were just getting rid of some bad guys. Some real baddies who harm the innocent. This reassures him, wow, you're so cool! You help people by getting rid of bad guys right? Wow!

Innocent kabukimono who admires you so much. You're the coolest person out there, and he trusts you.

Pure little kabukimono who tries making you some yummy food, only to fail since for some reason it always turns out to sour, too hot, or just burnt. It was like someone was messing with him and doing it on purpose.

And when he tells you that he's messed up yet again and sees how your face falls, he can't deal with it. He's so dumb, so stupid, he can't help it! He can't do anything without you. So he starts crying, soft little hiccups turn into full-on sobs as globs of tears fall from his eyes.

Who hugs you and apologizes over and over, he's sorry he's such a dummy! He'll learn! He'll be more useful to you, he doesn't know where the dish went wrong! Please don't abandon him, he's sorry for being useless!

And it brings him so much comfort when you hug him back, holding his tiny waist as you almost feel bad for purposefully messing up his dish, not that you'll actually apologize and tell him.

When you're sitting on the couch and you pull him onto your lap, it startles him. He shifts around a bit uncomfortably, but it's fine, he'll manage. You tell him that this is what friends do! And since you both are such close friends he doesn't complain when you pull him into your lap, even in front of other people

Eventually, he gets used to it, when you assure him that, this is what friends do- and you're his dearest friend aren't you?

He's used to it. He's trained for it. He could simply be doing some work around the house but the second you pat your lap he drops whatever he's doing, crawling onto your lap like a cat.

He doesn't know any better, so while you're in important meetings with the harbingers he'll simply crawl onto your lap like it's his own personal bed. The other harbingers always stutter in their next words- they just never seem to get used to your little boytoy

Some of the harbingers find it rather amusing, questioning why you've kept him around this long. They've never seen you with one of your boy toys after the first 3 weeks. You simply shrug, perhaps it's his innocence, his naivety to the world..and people, around him. Whatever it is, he proves to be entertaining. Which is why you just can't get rid of him yet.

Cute little kabukimono who ignores any red flags. You following him around whenever you have some free time, or sending one of your henchmen after him whenever you aren't available. What do you mean that's weird? No- you just care for your friend, he's your dearest friend after all! You just wanna make sure nothing bad happens!

Innocent kabukimono who you've quickly learned has no idea of what intimacy is. He doesn't know the first thing about- love making.

Kabukimono who sits on your lap like another day, resting his head back onto your shoulder, you can hear his quiet breaths and whispers as he mumbles and rambles about his day thinking you were listening. You on the other hand were occupied by your own deranged thoughts, ...it's been long enough..hasn't it? You're sure he can handle you- fondling him further..right? You mean he should. You've done so much for him, and he can barely even cook a proper meal for you.

Biting down harshly on his neck while he was leaning it back on your shoulder eliciting gasps and whines from him. He tries grabbing your head, trying to push you away. It hurts! But you're too strong. So he sits there helpless tugging at your hair softly as he lets out little moans as you suck on his neck. He feels heat pool in between his legs... it's so weird..he doesn't like it.

Later that day he stares at himself in the mirror. Examining the big red purple-ish mark you left. Afterward, he questions you about it. Huffing as he asks the reason behind this strange good feeling mark you've left.

You reassure him, it's simply because he's your dearest friend. And you just want people to know that he's yours, he belongs to you. And no one else.

[sorchathered]

It would’ve been you

Pairing- Bob Floyd x female reader

Summary- you’d finally admitted your feelings to Bob, the only problem? He doesn’t remember any of it, and now he’s got a new girlfriend.

Warnings- angst, a little bit of smut, Bob being a dummy, reader also being a dummy.

A/N- Hey babies! Let’s celebrate me finally getting back to the states with a new fic I wrote (one of three) on my 14 hour flight last night, not beta read, fuck it we ball. 😂😂

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Bob’s new girlfriend was awful.

No really she was. Natasha had been sending you emails for weeks about how bad things had become, and until you’d stepped back on shore you had scarcely believed it yourself.

It had been twelve weeks since you left for your special detachment. Twelve weeks since you drunkenly fell into bed with your best friend Robert Floyd.

You’d had a party at you and your roommate Natasha’s, sort of a “good luck hope you don’t die” drunk fest as your front seater Jake Seresin liked to call it. Too many drinks were had and inhibitions were pretty much non existent by the end of the night, Bob offering to help you clean up which resulted in drunken confessions of love and hands roaming bodies until the early morning hours.

It has been perfect, messy, but perfect. You’d scarcely hoped he felt the same and had been holding a candle for him for an embarrassingly long time. When you woke that morning you were in a lavender haze of ooey gooey feels, sneaking out of your room to shower and pack your things as you thought about what might be in the future for the two of you when you made it back from the mission.

But when Bob woke up with the hangover of the century and didn’t remember a single bit of the night before? Everything went to shit. You were too embarrassed to tell him the truth, if he didn’t remember then maybe it didn’t mean what you thought it had meant, and maybe he hadn’t been ready to cross that line with you after all. So you bottled it all up, pushing forward with the mission and kept contact to a minimum. He never said it but he knew something was off, you never missed an email when he wrote and lately you’d all but ignored him entirely.

About 6 weeks into your deployment, Nat hit you with a bomb you never expected- Bob had started seeing someone. You let it all out in your bunk, cried until your tears could have floated the carrier you were on and then some. You should have said something, you knew that now, and it was too little too late.

When you made it back Nat was bursting at the seams to give you all the gossip, you weren’t ready to hear it but she was quite literally bouncing on her toes to give you the tea so you settled in after a shower and let her blab.

“She’s awful y/n!!! Some wannabe instagram influencer who is on her phone constantly and oh my god she is rude!! She puts on this sweet little angel vibe for Bob but as soon as he leaves the room she’s like Cruella de Vil with blonde hair. I’m totally convinced she only wants to be with him for the military girlfriend vibes, she posts all these pictures of them together and tags them with little stupid hashtags about how she’s a military girlfriend and blah blah blah.” She says with a scowl as she pretends to fake wretch and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Is he happy with her?” You ask quietly, too afraid to look in her eyes, she’s too perceptive for her own good though; she’s known something changed between the two of you but hadn’t been able to place it.

“Honestly? He looks miserable, he hasn’t seemed like himself since you blew out of the house the morning of your deployment without so much as a goodbye. I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask, but I think you two need to talk. He misses you.” She took your hand in hers and gave you a kind smile, she was a bulldog in her field but she was the kindest soul you’d ever met. “I miss him too Natty, I really do.”

Bob had really liked Lauren in the beginning, she seemed like such a sweet girl, her socials full of pictures of her rescuing dogs and going on adventures, he could really see a future for them. But then she started only wanting to hang out when he was at the bar with his navy friends, always on her phone posting pictures of him in uniform, and bragging on her tiktok about being a Navy pilot’s girlfriend when that wasn’t even really what he did and she never seemed to listen enough to actually care about getting to know him for who he was. It had become exhausting, and he couldn’t talk to the person he wanted to the most because it felt like you’d completely ghosted him over the past few weeks. Bob was at a loss, he didn’t know what had changed between the two of you but as soon as Natasha announced to the group chat everyone was going to dinner to celebrate you and Hangman making it home he only had one thing on his mind- corner you and find out what the hell he’d done to piss you off.

When he got to the Hard Deck that night everyone was already in full party mode, drinks and pizzas littered the back wall of the bar as everyone danced along to Rooster’s rendition of “Benny and the Jets” on the piano, you perched right by his side singing the harmony and bursting into giggles as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You were breathtaking, you always had been to Bob but he’d never had the courage to tell you how he felt, always burying it when the feelings bubbled up in his chest. He was glad he hadn’t brought Lauren with him, he couldn’t clear the air between the two of you with her around, and honestly he was still wondering if he even wanted to continue a relationship with her in the first place. He would unpack all of that later, the song had ended and you’d noticed he was staring at you, your skin flushing bright red at his gaze.

You knew he’d be here, but even after weeks away you weren’t sure you were ready to face him. Did he remember what happened? Did it change anything? It certainly had to you, how could it not? You’d admitted your deepest feelings for him and then had the best sex of your life, only for him to completely forget it ever happened. It was devastating, but there wasn’t any way to avoid him so better to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with. You sat your empty beer down on a nearby table and made your way to where he was perched at the bar, ginger ale and peanuts occupying his hands as he looked you over with a nervous smile.

“Hey.” Oh god really? Hey? That’s all you could come up with? You cringed internally at the waver in your tone, you can be held responsible for millions of dollars of military tech but Bob Floyd is somehow the Achilles heel in your confidence? Jesus.

“Hi” he said softly and smiled back at you, “we’ve missed you around here, you didn’t answer any of my letters and I was starting to get worried about ya.” He fiddled with the top of the plastic cup holding the peanuts and tried to look anywhere but in your eyes, this was already the most awkward conversation he’d ever had and that was saying something for him.

“Look, Bob I don’t want to prolong this but I get it ok? We all do stupid things when we’re drunk and I won’t hold it against you. I heard you have a new girlfriend and I’ll respect that, I just…I need some time. I meant every word of what I said to you that night and if you just said it back to be kind-“

“Whoa hold on a minute, what are you talking about honey?” He thrust a hand out to catch yours and watched horror cross your face, what the hell had he done?!

“Oh-oh my god. You still don’t remember. Fuck, I- I’m sorry Bob I can’t do this right now.” You all but ran from him towards the back door and out into the night, you were fairly certain you were going to throw up or pass out. Maybe both.

Bob’s head was swimming, he stood up to follow you and had a moment flash behind his eyes. You beneath him, arms around his neck as the two of you ground into each other in your bed. He’d thought that had been a dream…it had been…right? The more he tried to think of it the more the memories came back, watching you come undone beneath him as you cried out your love for him, his hands tangled in your hair as he made the same confession. Natasha came up behind his rigid form to press a hand to his shoulder and he jerked back with a gasp, deep blue eyes wild and filled with panic. “Hey, whoah! Easy Bob, what’s going on?” She put both hands on his biceps as if to steady him but it couldn’t stop the room from spinning.

I-I’ve gotta get outta here Phoenix, did you see where y/n went? I royally screwed things up I have to see if I can fix it before it’s too late.”

She pointed towards the back door and he was bolting for it before she could say anything else, he couldn’t believe how much of a fool he’d been.

You were crouched in the sand a hundred feet or so from the bar, gasping in deep breaths as tears clouded your vision, head in your hands and body shaking. You should have just said something the morning after it happened, why didn’t you just tell him then? He still didn’t remember and if he didn’t remember then it must’ve not meant anything to him, now he was with someone else and your chance had all but evaporated. Had you completely lost him now? You didn’t know if you could bear not having him in your life, even if he wasn’t in love with you, losing your closest friend would be too much to bear.

“Y/n?” You heard him say softly behind you, he had always had an uncanny ability to sneak up on people and you supposed you should’ve known he’d come. He was the kindest person you knew, even if something made him uncomfortable he still worried about others. Selfless.

You swiped the tears away as best as you could before you stood and looked at him but it was no use, the second you locked eyes the tears were back.

“Robby, fuck I’m so sorry. I should’ve brought it up the morning after it happened but I-“

“I didn’t remember. And you thought it best to leave it be.”

“Y-yes” you said shakily, and you saw anger flash across his handsome features, a look you weren’t used to seeing from your beloved WSO.

“Damnit y/n! All that time wasted! If-if I’d’ve just known-“ he was shaking his head in frustration and you realized with a shock that he may not have remembered- but he meant what he said.

“Wait- wait, are you saying you meant it?” You said with a whisper, Bob looking at you incredulously like you’d grown three heads or something ridiculous.

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I didn’t… Jesus of course I meant it! How could I not? I think I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you and I feel cheated now! I’ve had you in my arms, kissed you, made love to you and I don’t remember it, but the worst part is knowing that you kept this from me. We could’ve been together this whole time! I’ve been pissing my time away with a girl who couldn’t give a rats ass about me and you’ve been right here all along.”

You were so sure he’d said it in a drunken mistake, braced for the worst that it wasn’t registering that he was telling you everything you wanted to hear, tears still spilling from your eyes as you blinked up at him, and a sound of frustration escaped his mouth as he yanked you into his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks, and you melted into him as it finally settled in that this was real.

He took your face in his hands as he tipped your head up to look at him, swiping the tears away with his thumbs while you tried to bring yourself back down from the meltdown.

“Damnit girl it’s always been you, I don’t know how you could’ve thought otherwise.”

You laughed out at your stupidity and leaned up into him as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Now listen, I want to do this right, so before I let myself drown in you like I want I have something I need to do. Stay right here, wait for me.” He kissed you again and released you, already missing his warmth you let out a whine.

He chuckled and swiped a loose curl behind your ear, “in order to make love to you like I want, I have to speak to Lauren. I want a clean slate for us baby, give me a few minutes and I promise after this I’m yours until you’re sick of me.”

“Never gonna happen” you said with a grin and he mirrored you with a brilliant smile of his own.

He had a renewed confidence he hadn’t felt in months as he made his way back inside to get his phone, passing Hangman by the dart board with his arm braced against the wall and a very familiar blonde haired woman shamelessly flirting with him.

Doing a double take he confirmed with a laugh that is was in fact his girlfriend trying to shoot her shot with Jake Seresin and oddly enough it didn’t even surprise him.

“Hey Seresin, glad to see your back.” He said with a smack on the golden haired aviators back, Jake cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

“Baby on Board! Good to see ya, glad to be back home. This is- uhh I’m sorry sugar I don’t know that I got your name” he said gesturing towards the girl and she looked at Bob like a deer in headlights.

“Lauren, her name is Lauren. By the way, whatever was going on with you and me? It’s over sweet pea. I think you two will be very happy together, you like TikTok right Hangman? She’s real big into all that influencer shit. Anyways, you two have a good night, I’ve got somewhere else to be.” He said as he walked off winking at Natasha as she cackled from her perch near the group.

He bounded out into the sand to find you right where he let you, lighter than air as he looped an arm around your waist and pulled you in to kiss you like he’d wanted. You gasped into his mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth to taste you. It was perfect, all your little sweet noises as you grasped at his collar and rubbed your body against his.

“Robby” you gasped out as his lips drifted down your jaw and to your neck and he felt lightheaded over all of it. “What’s on your mind baby” he said as he smiled against your skin and you shivered in his arms. “Take me home? I think- I think we need a do over. Want you so bad.” He couldn’t think of anything better, tossing you over his shoulders as you shrieked and giggled he carried you to the parking lot and placed you gently in the passenger seat of his old beat up truck.

“Let’s get you home sugar, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for, hope you weren’t planning on sleepin’ tonight, I don’t know that I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.”

You all but crawled into his lap in the bench seat as you ran your hands through his sandy blonde hair,

“I love you. Don’t you dare keep your hands to yourself, want you to love on me until we can’t move anymore, take me home and make me yours.”

And he did. Six months later when he put a ring on your finger it was a surprise to absolutely no one, he’d always pick on you for hiding the truth and you’d never let him live it down that he had forgotten making love to you in the first place. It seemed so silly now looking back on it, knowing you two were meant to be. He’d always been the one, and now he always would be.

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🏷️ tagging people who might be interested- @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @roosterforme @seitmai @jessicab1991 @sebsxphia @fandom-princess-forevermore @nerdgirljen @lenafromthenordiccoven @sio-ina-bottle @sunsetsimpsblog @auroralightsthesky

If I missed anyone I’m sorry I’m running on three hours of sleep 😭

[pearlzier]

────⠀ GHOSTFACE!MATT who . . .

GHOSTFACE!MATT who takes time to learn about you before he goes in for the infamous phone call. and by taking time, he really does take time to learn about you. all the others, he didn't really learn about the victim—just got it over with. for you? he's stalking you for weeks, just so he can make that special phone call all the more personal to you. only the best for you, huh?

GHOSTFACE!MATT who is so condescending and mean when he talks to you. he's smarter than you and he knows it. and he likes to remind you of it. he compliments you, faux admiration dripping from his tone, and when you don't say thank you, how any polite individual would, the snark in his tone practically oozes over to your end of the phone—"that's rude, baby. you don't even say 'thank you' when someone compliments you?" he tuts, so clearly disappointed in you.

GHOSTFACE!MATT who is the last person you'd expect to be ghostface. he's always been caring and doting, always eager to be close to you—but this? it had never crossed your mind that he'd be capable of brutally murdering people in LA, let alone being so cruel as to torment you like this, to even go for your friends.

GHOSTFACE!MATT who reassures you he'd never hurt you, not all that much. he wouldn't go as far as to seriously harm you, kill you, never—he even hates nicking you with his knife, drawing tiny bits of blood. "don't cry, honey," he tells you, voice sickly sweet, but you know he really does mean it, "i'd never hurt you. never. your friends on the other hand—?" your friends most definitely aren't safe, to say the least. one wrong move.. seems like you've been on delivered for a while now.

GHOSTFACE!MATT who gets off on your tears. maybe it's mean of him, but he does things in particular that he knows'll upset you, just so he can see your eyes well with tears and run down your cheeks. before you'd found out about his identity as the killer, he'd purposefully get rid of the people you loved the most. then? then he'd watch you without your knowledge as you sobbed by yourself, all upset when all you needed was him.

GHOSTFACE!MATT who banks on the fact you're far too afraid of him and he makes you feel far too good despite everything to tell anyone that he's the one massacring the people in the city. "don't fuck with me," he tells you, watching how you're staring off into the distance, "you're not gonna tell anyone, and you know it. i make that pretty pussy feel too good," he pats your thigh with his gloved hand, "ruined you for everyone else." he really has. no one else can make you feel as good as he does.

GHOSTFACE!MATT who buys you pretty things, like a nice lacy pair of panties, to leave them around your house. it terrifies you because you know he broke in to put them there however they are so nice looking that you can't help wear them. and he can't help but use his knife and slice through the thin fabric so he can get to what he wants when he's got you bent over later.

GHOSTFACE!MATT who waits until he knows you're touching yourself to call you. he knows you'll pick up, it makes his dick twitch when he gets to hear the squelching of your cunt and watch your fingers sink into yourself despite not being in the room with you. "that's it, imagine it's me, hm? oh, someone likes that, practically gushing for me, baby." and those pretty sounds you make? he's practically shoving his hand under his dark robes to palm himself, try relieve the aching you're unknowingly causing.

GHOSTFACE!MATT who doesn't hesitate to get rid of anyone who messes with you. he's always looking out for you—even when you don't know he's there. at parties, if any guy gets too close or tries to get touchy with you is soon on the tv, his graphic, brutal death being described. all because he'd made you uncomfortable, so of course GHOSTFACE!MATT was going to sort it out for you. he sorts out everything for you.

GHOSTFACE!MATT who accidentally says he loves you whilst he's fucking you. he's meant to be all mean and tough, leaving marks all over you as a reminder that you're his, but eventually, he ends up getting more vulnerable than he'd planned. "fuck, fuck, fuck, i love you, shit.. i—" when you try to get him to say it again, to try see how vulnerable he really could be with you, but he's back to being his normal self again. "said i love this fuckin' pussy, not that fuckin' mouth of yours. shut the fuck up."

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @mattslolita, @mattsdolll, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @pettydollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @https--roman, @sincerebabydoll, @pillwebb ִ ꒱

[cainfile]

pt.2 to my angsty loser!ellie drabble 𝜗𝜚

nsfw! ellie gets caught and that’s literally it. i hate this so bad but it’s whateva

(part 3 will have lesbian gay lesbian boob vagina butt sex i promise. no more ellie masturbating)

find pt.1 here! & pt.3 here :3

daily click! don’t buy tlou free palestine

after ellie’s pathetic masturbation sesh, she vowed to herself to fucking pull it together.

she wasn’t gonna let herself mope over you, because she knew you had an active sex life. she forced herself to be fine with it. to be fine with the people you decided to bring to your bed. she wanted to be near you without feeling this suffocating feeling of yearning and lust filling her insides.

and if that meant tucking her feelings to the deepest pits of hell, then so fucking be it.

a few weeks had passed since that little moment you and ellie had. the one where she had showed up to your house in the middle of you hooking up with someone.

the morning after, she has awoken to a string of texts from you, all apologizing for that awkward moment.

11:34pm

ellie i’m so sorry you had to see me like that. i didn’t mean to come off rude.

i wanted to go after you but i couldn’t really leave her alone in my house lol

els?

i’m really sorry. i hope u don’t think you can’t come to my house ever again ☹️ i actually thought it was sweet you showed up like that.

2:12am

goodnight ellie. i hope things aren’t awkward between us.

god, you made her feel awful. you were too fucking sweet to her. the way you never missed a single night when telling her goodnight, even after something like that. she rubbed her swollen face, mainly from crying, and typed a short message to you.

9:47am

hey, sorry for rushing away like that. idk why i did that lmfao

and things aren’t awkward at all, i shouldn’t have just showed up unnanounced

no els seriously! you should do that more often. tbh i wanted to hang out with you more than that girl… but yk i couldn’t 💔💔

she smiled at your kind text, glad that you two could just put it behind yourselves. her moment of relief was quickly replaced by disgust, when she saw the state of herself and her bed. her inner thighs sticky with dried cum, and her sheets below her still damp with all the extra release.

“gross..” she mumbled to herself, getting up and immediately throwing on some boxers and a tshirt, feeling way too vulnerable being naked like that. she went to the bathroom and cleaned herself up, then threw her sheets in the wash.

since then, you two have been fine. you do your weekly hangout sessions, where you grab food and talk about anything for hours on end. it’s almost as if nothing happened.

until one of your sleepovers.

you always convinced ellie to spend the night at your house, at least every other week. whenever it’d get dark outside and ellie would start to get up, you’d give her that irresistible pout and “ughhh, c’mon els.. just spend the night. it’s too dark out for you to go home.”

and every damn time, she agreed. how could she ever say no to you?

one night, you and ellie are high out of your minds, talking about god knows what. all giggly and soft, you two exchange jokes and stories that really make no sense. but, to you two, it’s the funniest thing in the world. after a laughing fit between the two of you, you wipe your tears and sigh.

“god, i love you.”

you say, still catching your breath from that tummy tensing laugh. the words were just an expression of admiration for her. but to ellie, they were so much more.

“i love you too.”

she says, looking you in the eyes. she’s high, so she’s not thinking too hard about how sincere she sounds. but she really should’ve, because that soft tone of her voice and the glint in her eyes make it sound way too fucking real.

“woah,” you let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. “that was a bit theatrical.”

“wh..what do you mean?”

ellie asks, getting a bit nervous. she’s not her usual, stuttery self though. she keeps it together. thanks to the weed.

“just the way you said i love you. it felt like… deep.”

you move your hands as you talk, and ellie just shrugs. but she knows she’s fucked. before she could stop her feelings from resurfacing, she gets that familiar tingle in her belly and pounding of her heart.

“shut up,” she rolls her eyes, trying to play it off.“you’re dramatic.”

her voice wavered with those last words. fuck, her voice wavered. why did she feel like she was gonna have a breakdown any second now? she had to get the hell away from you.

“gotta piss. be back in a bit.”

ellie says quickly, so quick you don’t even have time to retort to her calling you dramatic. you just sit there, confused. you could’ve sworn you heard some uncertainty in her voice, but you let her go.

meanwhile, ellie made a beeline for your bathroom. she shut the door and leaned her head against the wood. she let out a deep sigh, trying to calm herself. the fact that she felt the most intense feeling that she couldn’t even describe over a mere “i love you” had her cringing.

she just couldn’t get over you. the entire night, she tried her best not to think about how good your tits looked in your pajama top, or how badly she wanted to just shove her face into your ass in those little shorts.

her thinking over these details led to the predicament that she’s in right now. sweatpants around her knees, legs slightly spread as she rubs one out while leaned up against your bathroom sink. her eyes are shut and her head is thrown back, letting out the quietist grunts she could muster.

she knew she shouldn’t be doing this, she promised herself that she would stop. but god, you made it hard. she was so wet, it made her cheeks flush red. the simple thought of you had her literally dripping around her own fingers.

you were still in your room, biting your thumbnail as you wait for ellie. you start to get worried, thinking you made her upset by commenting on how she said ‘i love you’. so, you being the thoughtful friend you are, go to check on her.

you quietly walk to the bathroom, putting your ear against the door. you were going to knock and mutter a little “els? are you okay?”, but the sounds you heard made you lose all the words in your mouth.

soft, sharp inhales and tiny sticky noises is all you can hear through the door. it’s a bit hard to listen to, since the soft buzz of the yellow light in there overpowers it. what the hell is she doing in there?

you knew this was wrong. an invasion of privacy to the max. but your curiosity was getting the better of you, and you were worried. you put your hand on the doorknob and slightly twisted it, not expecting it to open. but it did.

did ellie forget to lock the door?

ellie doesn’t hear the soft click of the door opening, too lost in her own pleasure as she practically humps her own hand. it had been too fucking long since she could touch herself to the thought of you. her only guilty pleasure.

her head was still thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as she rubbed her clit at a shockingly fast pace. and you saw it all. you had opening the door just enough for half of your face to see through the opened crack. your whole body froze at the sight in front of you.

she was so captivating. her face looking all fucked out, her pale thighs that were so tensed up, the shininess of her slick that smeared on the heel of her palm. even the quick glimpses of her gorgeous auburn bush that you could see if her hoodie rode up enough.

your tummy felt weird. first, you felt guilty for eavesdropping on your best friend. second, you were confused why the fuck ellie decided now would be the best time to masturbate. third, you were turned on. disgustingly turned on, at that.

a few seconds of watching ellie made your panties get all sticky and wet, and that burning hot feeling in your lower belly. you couldn’t look away.

“ohh, fuck— please,”

your brain short circuited hearing ellie say that. god, she was so lost in her own pleasure. so lost that she accidentally knocked over your toothbrush and hand soap on the sink, causing her to jolt and snap her eyes open.

she looks down at the bottle of soap and toothbrush that landed in front of the bathroom door. the door that’s cracked. her eyes shoot up, and there’s where she sees a glimpse of you running away. a quick flash, but she knew it was you.

she is so fucked.

I HATE RHISNSO BAD RRRR😡

btw i finished this literally like 3 days ago and didn’t wanna post it hut i did anyway ☺️☺️

[spiderb00]

IS IT NEW YEARS YET

Megan Skiendiel X Reader

"After your ex broke up with you a month before Christmas, you lost your holiday mojo. Maybe you just needed to meet new people, a specific redheaded girl” 

Genre – fluff   Warnings – none  fruitcake masterlist

Now playing – Is it new years yet, by Sabrina Carpenter 

The feeling of impostor settled in you, as soon as you passed through the door of Lara's house you felt uncomfortable, strange with the environment. Being without the company of your ex girlfriend at parties like this made you feel awkward and out of place. You were never a very sociable person, of course, you were never rude, you just didn't like to leave the house so much. Whether you wanted to or not, your ex had helped with your shyness, always dragging you everywhere, but now, without her, you felt a little lost in the midst of people.  

Lara was throwing a party, a small meeting. The commemorative dates were approaching and any excuse for a party was enough for Lara. You and the Indian girl knew each other for a long time, even before she went to Dream Academy, or bonded as Katseye's lead vocalist. Your friendship with Lara has always been strong, you have always supported the girl in everything, while she did the same with you.   

When Lara found out about your breakup, she comforted and supported you, as always. She let you have your sad moment, but after a month, the girl did everything to take your mind off the girl who broke your heart before Christmas. When Lara called you to the party, you quickly tried to refuse, making up any excuse not to leave the house. But, when you saw that the red-haired girl wasn't going to give up, you agreed to go.  

And now here you are, a plastic cup with energy drink in your right hand, as you sit in one of the chairs outside Lara's house. You knew most of the people at the party, all mutual friends of yours and Lara's, but after a while of talking and laughing, you decided it was time to be alone for a while, just you and your thoughts. Taking the lighter out of your back pocket, you were about to light a cigarette – one of the habits you picked up after the breakup – when someone approached you.   

"Hi, do you mind if I sit down? There's a lot of noise inside." Asked a girl, she had red hair and was tall, not as tall as you.  

"No, okay, go ahead." You said, putting away the cigarette and lighter before settling back into the chair.   

Looking at the girl better, you could finally tell why she looked so familiar. It was Megan, Lara's bandmate. You haven't met all the Kats yet, but you surely recognize them from promotional videos, music videos, and in general. You thought the Chinese girl was beautiful, and you didn't think she could be even more beautiful in person. 

"I'm Megan." The red-haired girl said, a faint smile on her face as she waited for you to introduce yourself.   

"I know, I mean, I recognized you. I am Yn." You said, fumbling a little with the words. 

"Oh, sure. You are Lara's best friend. She talks a lot about you." Megan says. "It's good to finally put a face to the name."   

Laughing lightly, you nod. The night was quiet and although you wanted to be alone, the redhead's company was not bad.   

"So why are you out here instead of enjoying the party inside?" The redhead asks, settling in the chair and looking directly at your face.  

"Well, I could ask you the same question..." You say, making the girl laugh lightly. "Well, but I'm just here to clear my mind, you know."  

"Oh, I get it, a lot of people also make me a little overstimulated." Megan says, nodding in understanding.   

"Really?" You ask, the conversation flowing naturally. "How do you work? Why, you know... You kind of have to deal with a lot of people. Sorry if this is invasive..." You say, genuinely interested in Megan's words.  

"It's not invasive." The girl says, laughing lightly at your concern. "I think I just got used to it, I love what I do, so it kind of becomes natural after a few years." She says, fiddling with the rings that were on her hand. "But I always have time for myself, and it's always nice to have someone who's always with you. The girls are my second family." Megan said. You noticed that the redhead's nose started to turn red, because of the cold. 

"You seem very passionate when you talk about all this-" Interrupting your speech, a couple walks past you and Megan, both of them making out. As the guy sat in the chair next to you and the redhead, the girl he was kissing climbed onto his lap, leaving you and Megan dumbfounded.   

"Is this serious?" Megan asked, as you stood up, holding out her hand to the shorter girl.  

"Come on, I don't think these idiots are going to leave anyway." Standing up, Megan took your hand in hers, letting you guide her to the back door of the house.  

"I think we'd better come in, Lara must be looking for us and you're shivering with cold." You said, taking off your jacket and putting it on the shoulders of the shorter girl. "Here, you can take that." 

As you adjusted the jacket to Megan's shoulders, the redhead admired your face. Megan already knew who you were, in fact, she always asked Lara to introduce you to her, but that never really happened. Now, with you here in front of her, she couldn't miss the chance to make the move.  

"Thank you, that's very sweet of you." Megan said, the jacket hanging loosely from her shoulders, extending to the middle of her thighs.   

You and Megan finally entered the house, people talked, drank and others kissed in the corners, it felt more like a fraternity party than a Christmas Eve party.   

"Megaann! I looked for you everywhere." A slightly drunk Daniela bumped into you, making you hold her by the waist.  

"My God Dani, how much did you drink?" Megan said, approaching the Latina and checking if everything was okay with her.   

"Yes, it's me-"   

"Shiiiu, don't tell Megan I said that, but she's very into you." The Latina spoke, after interrupting you by placing her index finger on your lips.   

"DANI!" Megan screamed, taking the girl from your arms and trying to walk her out of the house.  

"Bye, Yn. Thank you for keeping me company, we're going." Megan said, trying to save herself from the embarrassment Daniela had caused her.  

"Wait a minute, how are you going to take her like this." You said, holding the other side of Daniela as you walked with Megan.  

"It's okay, I'll order an Uber or something."  

"Let me take you." You said, making the girl hesitate. "Please, it's dangerous, let me help."   

When Megan finally agreed, you helped her put Dani in the back seat of your car, starting and then driving to the Kats' house. When you finally got there, you both started struggling to get Daniela to bed, since the Latina hadn't made the work of the two of you any easier.  

"Dani, you have to get out of the car." Megan said, pulling the blonde's arm as she held firmly in the passenger seat.   

"NO, I want to stay longer and talk to Yn." Daniela said, pouting and getting a laugh from you.  

Getting out of the car, you turned around and stood next to Megan, who was still clutching Daniela's right arm.   

"Dani, I'm here. You can get out of the car and talk to me." You said, as the blonde looked in your direction and gave you a drunken smile. 

"YN! My friend, Yn." The Latina jumped out of the car, leaning on you as she staggered towards the entrance of the house, causing Megan to roll her eyes and close the door of your car.  

 "Has Megan ever kissed you or what?" The Latina spoke directly to you.  

"DANI! Be quiet, please." Megan spoke, fumbling with the keys to the front of the house.  

When she finally managed to open the door, you helped the girl in. Daniela threw herself on the couch quickly, laughing lightly and closing her eyes soon after, not before singing a little to you and the redhead next to you.  

"Yn and Megan, under a tree, kissing, la la la la la la." 

Rolling her eyes, Megan watched the Latina fall asleep as fast as she had gotten drunk, and you thought that was your cue to go home, so you headed towards your car.   

"Thank you for everything." Megan said, crossing her arms and hugging your jacket, which was still wrapped around her.   

"It was nothing, if you need it, you know where to find me." You said, leaning against your car, and hesitating a few seconds before continuing. "So, is it true?"  

"What is truth?" Megan's face became slightly confused.  

"What Daniela said. You know what they say, drunks always say what they wanted to say sober." You said, getting a little closer to the redhead. 

Biting her lip nervously, Megan looks down at the floor, before turning her gaze back to you again.   

"What would you do if you were?" Megan asked, coming closer to you.  

Laughing lightly, you pulled a strand of Megan's hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.  

"You can return my jacket tomorrow night when I come by and take you on a date." You say, a smile painting your lips.  

"yes, I think it can work." Megan said, returning your smile.  

"Of course. It's not New Year's yet, we have plenty of time." 

Hi guys, penultimate chapter of Fruitcake, I'm loving this series, but I really want it to end lol.

The truth is that I want to start finalizing and posting your requests, but things will work out

I haven't proofread it yet, so there may be some mistakes, I'm very tired bc my family is in my house.

xoxo, spider.

[ronearoundblindly]

I am sorry but I'm going to need a Ransom story with this prompt. It can be RoaR or a one-off, he can love it or hate it in this space, he can see it over Reader's shoulder on the computer screen, your choice!

o.0 oh boi oh boi oh boi! Fall Vibes but it's gonna be my summer challenge submission to @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar, featuring the flavors Cookies and Cream (soulmates) and Rocky Road (rags to riches) with the topping Oreos (marriage of convenience (reluctantly)). Also my second entry for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza, featuring a babe in love and cranky about it + "can you just...hold me please?"

For Show Ransom Drysdale x poor!soulmate!reader

Summary: Ransom hates that you--his soulmate and wife--are nothing like him.

Warnings for smut and Ran's a**hole brain (rude, nasty thoughts that he barely even believes). Classic Lexi--this is cheeky, y'all, but you know it's because I can't help myself... MINORS DNI. Find all-age friendly fic on my Light Masterlist. WC 2.1k

Ran didn’t believe in love to start, but this is fucking ridiculous. Opposites attract? Get wrecked, asshole. He’s keeping opposites on the other side of the house. It’s not far enough.

It’s standard practice for the confirmation of matching soulmarks to act as a de facto marriage contract—common law, if you like,—and Ransom Drysdale fought tooth and nail to make you prove you had his name on you. He needed to see it with his own eyes or fuck that shit.

His is obvious; he can show it off. In fact, Ran is surprised by how long it took you to come forward, considering his family and status, considering his lifestyle of being very visible.

But no, he had to wait for a fucking database to pop out record of his match from your healthcare provider, and he had wait for that because the government knew about your health…because they know such things…about people who need their fucking money. The registration of soulmarks puts the financial responsibility on the soulmate if they end up having the means.

Now Ran is responsible for you, a woman he made lower the front of her panties in open court to reveal his goddamn name in his own goddamn handwriting imprinted right above her goddamn cunt, and suddenly it became his cunt, his problem, his responsibility.

You’re not even fun. You had no money and didn’t care to have any, so you moved your few, ratty belongings into his home, replacing nothing, offering nothing in return for his—well, in return for every fucking thing he has now being yours, too. It’s so fucked.

You don’t want to show off, and he has no intention of showing you off. He can’t be seen with you, not without the proper clothes or jewelry, and you refused to get them. Instead, Ransom leaves you alone in the house, doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants, as always. He won’t talk to you because he just gets furious every time. He’s not going to have deep conversations about the state of the world, though he might have one social justice issue he can fight for: the mother-fucking law that made you his wife without question.

Ran slams the kitchen cabinet storing all-white, matching stoneware mugs when he notices what’s missing: your single, sad, flea market mug. It’s clay so it always looks dirty, and he hates it.

He lightly punches his own neck in irritation.

He didn’t stand a chance fighting the marriage, not with your name in deep, port red letters creeping up his throat, higher than any turtleneck he’s ever owned. Coupled with his legal name resting snuggly beneath your pubes, it was obviously, technically accurate that you’re soulmates. When was the last time someone challenged that system, he thinks. That might be a better use of his money than—

Where are you anyway?

For all his annoyance, he hasn’t set eyes on you for days.

His house is large enough (and he spends so much time anywhere else) that you have your own room, which you didn’t question, and the kitchen is easy enough to share when one of you eats out with other people (as he does two to three times a day). You get the slightly bigger and more formal living room while Ran gets the den with the big TV. Really it’s been the perfect system for almost forgetting you exist.

He pours tea into his clean, white mug and leaves said big TV fairly loud on some program he wasn’t paying attention to, leaning over the granite countertop to see if he can spot you from this angle.

No luck.

He steps closer, sipping.

A little closer, more sipping, a purposeful smack of his lips to grab your attention if you are just around the corner.

There are two openings, both far larger than doorways, to the living room, each through the central hall. When he doesn’t immediately see you, he steps to the farther opening. What the—

What’d you do to his couch?

Is that every single pillow and blanket from your side of the house?

Did Yankee Candle Company throw up in here?

What, the fucking fireplace wasn’t enough ambiance for you? You had to make some sort of nest with his stuff? And there’s that ugly-ass mug, no coaster, on his super-expensive, reclaimed hardwood coffee table.

A pillow shifts.

No, not a pillow; it’s your back, and when you shift again, Ran sees one of the plush throw blankets slink farther down your bare skin. It’s the largest swath of your body he’s ever seen.

You lay with your arms folded, peering out the windows behind the couch, and you still haven’t fucking noticed him.

He huffs before realizing he isn’t listening to the faint TV anymore, but when he ticks his head, he sees your TV isn’t on either.

“”I think of nothing but you as I fall asleep at night”—” Ran hears a woman’s voice fake a deeper tone before switching to normal “—Javier says, pulling her soft curves into his hard body—”

You sigh dreamily and wiggle on the cushions. The blanket slides over the swell of your ass.

Ran stops moving mid-sip of tea.

“”Please, my darling, let me have you—“ this is fucking terrible, he thinks “—as only a lover can.””

Alright, now Ransom is just sad. You’re naked in his living room, rubbing your thighs together and listening to an erotic novel on your phone.

“Chloe felt his digits dance across her clavicle, his eyes enchanted by her heaving bosom…”

Go out to a club or restaurant with him? No. Wear nice clothes he could buy you? Nope.

“”Javi,” she gasps, distracted by his rough palm groping her breast hungrily, “I can’t believe you want me.””

Ran is going to fucking gag at the whining appall in the narrator’s voice.

Why listen to this awful shit instead of show off him as your husband? From the quick shiver racing down your spine and the curl of your toes where they hang over the cushion’s edge, it’s because you’re fucking horny for it.

Good god, how low are your standards?

He stalks forward, feet hitting the floor hard until he reaches the plush rug.

Startled, you peer over your shoulder at him, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, and you begin scrambling to recover yourself.

Ran puts his cup down by yours. “Don’t move,” he orders, and to his surprise, you obey, keeping you head turned his direction and sinking back into the pillows.

“”How could you doubt? From the moment I met you, I adored you.””

He swivels to face the same direction as you, reaches out his hand and mime the stroke he’s contemplating tracing over your curves.

“”I’m yours,” Chloe breathes, Javier’s growing member signaling his desire against her silk-covered core.”

Ran finally bends until the tip of his middle finger grazes the inside of your thigh.

As he drags it over one cheek and down the other, you whine and push your ass toward his hand.

That’s…not bad, all things considered. You are his wife, after all, and you clearly want to be fucked. He won’t argue that having some other woman’s name scrawled on him hasn’t limited his game for quite a while. Financially independent or not, when a pussy is presented to him, Ransom will say ‘yes.’

He stops noticing the audio from your phone and just dives in, no sentiments or kind words of his own. He simply unbuckles his belt, pops the button of this jeans, and rips that zipper down before teasing your folds to find enough slick at your entrance to swirl around. He spreads you and your wetness with purpose. Each second that passes drives Ransom a little bit more insane.

Impatient, strung out like a virgin on prom night, he rushes to shove his pants out of the way and kicks one knee up between your legs, his other foot still on the floor. He pumps his fingers inside you until he’s knuckle-deep and nearly dripping, manhandling your hips to the right height to sink his tip into you.

Ran groans at how fucking good you feel. He’s probably just desperate. He’d be excited about any ol’ means to come right now.

He snaps his hips in small thrusts until his whole length glides in and out in seamless stimulation. You’ve buried your face in the pillow, so he can’t hear if you make any noise. He can, however, see your hands scratch at the upholstery and clench into fists. He can see you deepen the arch of your back, angling his dick to fuck just slightly down through your channel. The pressure squeezes the spongy head of his cock like a vice. He’ll never say it out loud, but your pussy is fucking perfect. God fucking dammit.

Ransom relentlessly drives into you, catching the sideview of your breasts bouncing each time his thighs slap yours. He smacks your ass once just to see if it jiggles for him, and that’s when your hand snakes to disappear between your legs. He expects you’re going for your clit which is good because he’s about to get off and get lost, but instead, he feels your soft fingers cup his balls.

He’s so enamored by the sensation that he switches to tiny pulses deep in your cunt while your hand wraps and rolls his sac gently. Twitching and tensing, Ran unabashedly moans until your walls constrict around his length.

He’s got to make you do that again.

Ransom collapses forward to lean over you, his own hand diving to find your clit, resting his palm right over your mound and soulmark. Every inch of his body burns hot with need. He humps wildly, resting his chin over your shoulder.

“”I don’t care how, Javi, just stick it in there. I need you. I need you so badly…””

“Jesus Christ,” Ran growls, “are they still not fucking?”

A giggle bursts from your lips, a sweet, happy sound he’s never heard from you before, and you reach for him. Your palm lands on his soulmark, your fingers curling to scratch the hairs at the nape of his neck, and there’s…there’s…

He can’t comprehend how your body fits his so well. He can’t reconcile this sudden swell of obsession in his gut for you. He’s enveloped in a binary system of souls, gravity tugging at that connection between you.

Ran doesn’t believe in love or destiny. He refuses. He believes in pleasure and perception, in accumulation and ownership.

The only thought left in his static-filled head is mine, mine, mine, mine.

He falls over the edge first, a satisfied shout punctuating each spurt he plants within you, furiously working your messy clit and kneading one breast in his free hand until he feels that squeeze again, and again, and again, dying to a flutter just as your shared cum leaks out around his cock.

By this time, Ran is panting and resting a sizable portion of his weight on you, knees knocked loose in his onslaught, pushing you both flat to the chaise cushion, feet dangling off the end.

You still hold each other’s mark in a comforting palm.

He’s speechless as the room fills with heated love declarations amidst passionate sex and bad dialogue. Ran tries to catch his fucking breath. He’s glad you don’t speak either.

Everything about his life—his past, his present, his future—sits utterly raw in front of him, and he can’t cope.

He makes the mistake of peeling his body off yours, releasing you and dislodging your hand. The cold emptiness which immediately sweeps over him is sickening, and Ran barely waits for you to roll onto your back before he wedges himself between your legs again, instinctually laying on his side, pressing his sweater-clad shoulder against your sopping folds just so he can rest his soulmark right on top of yours.

Euphoria returns to his body and mind, thick like honey and all-consuming.

He doesn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t want to talk about. He doesn’t want to live a moment without you.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Mercifully, the audio speaks for him.

“”Can you just…hold me please? That was…that was…””

“”So intense,” Javier rumbles, “so beautiful.””

Ransom, the preening trust fund baby, has finally found something all his own, something he doesn’t want to share, something shown only for him.

He refuses, however, to call it ‘love’…

…yet.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I'm fine.

[qiu-yan]

Do you have any feelings opinions or analysis of the golden core reveal or just how the scene in the ancestral hall went down?? Because I have a lot of feelings about it but I can't quite put them together into words and I love your analysis of the story and jiang cheng

thank you for the ask!!!! and thank you for your kind comments!!

god i have so many opinions about the golden core reveal, and the ancestral hall scene that precedes it. i don't quite have all my thoughts in proper essay order right now, but i will probably write another long-ass post about my Hot Takes some day soon.

unorganized thoughts as of right now:

for the ancestral hall scene, i am almost purely on jiang cheng's side. jiang cheng was rude as hell and he did verbally escalate instead of peacefully allowing wangxian to leave, yes. however, they are in his house. they are in front of his ancestors. they are in his ancestral hall, which they entered without permission. to me, it seems like wei wuxian wants to have his cake and eat it too: he wants to avoid jiang cheng and all the anger the jiang cheng of the present has at his (very real and rather devastating) mistakes, but he also wants to freely come and go in jiang cheng's own goddamn house, like he used to be able to when he still had a positive relationship with jiang cheng. if wei wuxian is going to act like jiang cheng and yunmeng jiang are nothing to him anymore, then he should properly commit to being a full outsider.

it's also interesting how wei wuxian focuses his retorts in his argument with jiang cheng on "how dare you be cruel to lan zhan!!! i'm protecting lan zhan!!!!" when in my view the vast majority of jiang cheng's verbal abuse was directed towards wei wuxian himself. jiang cheng calls lan wangji "riffraff" and "an outsider," but that...is incredibly mild language to me. jiang cheng is ruder to wen ning (by calling him a "wen dog") for heaven's sake. instead, jiang cheng is much nastier towards wei wuxian himself: wei wuxian is shameless, wei wuxian's idiotic hero complex got all his family members killed, wei wuxian is why jin ling is an orphan, wei wuxian is a heartless ingrate, etc etc.

wei wuxian, defend YOURSELF! jiang cheng is barely being nasty at all to lan wangji, but he IS being nasty to YOU! compared to all the horrid shit he yells at you, he barely even brings up lan wangji at all! at the very least, tell jiang cheng not to call wen ning a "wen dog"!

i haven't fully thought this out yet so i'm not sure how fully i stand by it, but the fact that wei wuxian gets that heated "defending lan wangji" when jiang cheng barely even insulted lan wangji that much, is very interesting. it implies to me that, while wei wuxian thinks he does not have the right to properly rebut jiang cheng's criticisms of himself, that he truly is guilty and therefore should just take jiang cheng's verbal abuse of him lying down - deep down, he is still upset about jiang cheng blaming him specifically. when jiang cheng calls wei wuxian an ingrate who got all of jiang cheng's family members killed, wei wuxian is in fact upset and does in fact want to protest. however, he is unable to openly do so because he also feels incredibly guilty himself about the role he played in jin zixuan and jiang yanli's deaths, and therefore thinks he does not have the right to defend himself against jiang cheng's rage on the same issue.

but wei wuxian is still upset and still wishes to rebut jiang cheng's fury. therefore, "defending lan wangji" becomes an excuse for wei wuxian, a pretext to find issue with jiang cheng's arguments and therefore fight back. it's somewhat similar to when someone writes an incredibly effective counterargument to your post, so you hyperfocus on mocking them for a spelling error instead: you can't think of a way to properly rebut their rebuttal, so you jump on the first thing that gives you an excuse to disagree with them and poke holes in their argument. wei wuxian believes (accurately or not) that he does not have the right to defend himself against jiang cheng; however, he is fully justified in defending lan wangji from jiang cheng, which gives him an excuse to argue back when jiang cheng insults wei wuxian.

this is evidenced by the fact that, in the ancestral hall scene, wei wuxian does not defend wen ning from jiang cheng at all. jiang cheng also gives wei wuxian shit for "let[ting] the Wen dog wander around in front of our gates," but wei wuxian just fully lets that comment slide in favor of defending only lan wangji. while this could be because lan wangji is present to hear jiang cheng say this while wen ning is not, for me, another reason comes to mind as well: in wei wuxian's mind, wen ning is also involved, however tangentially, in the deaths of jin zixuan and jiang yanli. wei wuxian's guilt extends to encompass wei ning as well. therefore, wei wuxian feels that he also does not have the right to defend wen ning from jiang cheng. it is only lan wangji out of the three people jiang cheng insults that wei wuxian has the right to defend, because lan wangji alone was not involved in the jiang family tragedy of wei wuxian's first life.

also, it was wei wuxian who first escalated a verbal confrontation into a physical one.

regarding the golden core transfer scene.....first, i find it absolutely hilarious that wen ning of all people spilled the beans to jiang cheng, and got so mad about it to boot. king, you helped operate on him. king, you helped lie to him about it. king, there is no shortage of things you have the full right to be angry with sect leader jiang about, but him believing the lies you actively chose to tell him and not figuring out that you were lying is not one of them. as someone else put it, one person between wen ning and jiang cheng had a free and active hand in removing wei wuxian's core and putting it into jiang cheng, and that person was not jiang cheng. wen ning helping violate jiang cheng's bodily autonomy and then weaponizing said nonconsensual surgery later in an argument against the same jiang cheng is kind of crazy to me, honestly.

imo (and i'm stealing from an analysis i read somewhere), wen ning was this harsh about the golden core reveal despite being one of the surgeons who nonconsensually operated on jiang cheng and then lied to him about it for similar reasons as i described for wei wuxian above. wen ning is also deeply angry with jiang cheng for a lot of things: jiang cheng repeatedly calls him a "thing" and kicks him around like he isn't a human being; jiang cheng also led the first siege of the burial mounds, which killed all save one of wen ning's family members. that is a completely reasonable thing to be mad about. but wen ning, having seen firsthand the wrongdoings of qishan wen, probably has a guilt complex of sorts about being a wen; more importantly, he feels incredibly guilty about his "role" in killing jin ling's father. therefore, wen ning probably does not feel he has the right to defend himself from jiang cheng.

but deep down wen ning is still angry. he is still incredibly angry with jiang cheng for the things jiang cheng did to wen ning. and, while wen ning may not feel like he has the right to defend himself from jiang cheng, defending wei wuxian from jiang cheng is a different matter. in wen ning's eyes, wei wuxian did no major wrong and always had good intentions. therefore, jiang cheng has no right to be angry with wei wuxian. therefore, if wen ning absolutely wrecks jiang cheng's shit defending wei wuxian (and not wen ning himself), then wen ning would be entirely justified.

second - and my thoughts on this haven't fully baked yet - there's this undercurrent in both the golden core transfer scene and the guanyin temple scene that, because wei wuxian gave jiang cheng his core, jiang cheng does not have the right to be angry with wei wuxian for the pain wei wuxian's actions caused jiang cheng. that jiang cheng is now permanently indebted to wei wuxian, which therefore voids all of jiang cheng's right to say that wei wuxian hurt him.

i don't like this undercurrent. i don't like this idea at all. if someone - even accidentally - caused you a lot of pain, the fact that they also once sacrificed themself for you does not negate the pain they caused you. you should be grateful for what they did for you, but that doesn't mean you no longer have a right to your pain.

to flip the script, jiang cheng in reality also sacrificed himself for wei wuxian: he only lost his golden core to begin with because he drew that wen patrol away from wei wuxian. it is factually correct to say that, were it not for jiang cheng, wei wuxian would very likely be dead. but if anyone were to say: "jiang cheng once sacrificed himself for wei wuxian, meaning that wei wuxian owes his life to jiang cheng; therefore, wei wuxian does not have the right to be angry with jiang cheng for the first siege of the burial mounds," that would be fucking stupid. because that's not how it works.

i hold this to be true even though there is a cause-and-effect relationship between each person's sacrifice and their later actions. wei wuxian not having a golden core explains a lot of his later lying and other behavior, and jiang cheng having been tortured because he saved wei wuxian in turn explains a lot of his later resentment and other behavior as well. but neither of their fates were set in stone. both of them still had free will and still could have made different decisions afterwards.

the above is all a lot of blaming, refutation of blaming, and morality wank, so here are some assorted non-morality opinions:

the gift of the magi esque dual-sacrifice wei wuxian and jiang cheng pulled for each other is my favorite part of the story. like holy shit.

wen ning did phrase the golden core reveal to be as hurtful as possible. i find the idea of a sacrifice performed out of love and care for the recipient later being weaponized against that same recipient to be a very interesting idea.

wei wuxian absolutely did not give up his golden core out of only a sense of duty. there was quite a lot of duty, obligation, and guilt (spurred on by jiang fengmian and yu ziyuan's last words to him) mixed into his reasons, but i think wei wuxian gave his golden core to jiang cheng because he loved jiang cheng and didn't want to watch jiang cheng suffer.

jiang cheng, meanwhile, led the wen patrol away and thus got captured in place of wei wuxian purely because he loved wei wuxian. in doing so, he specifically failed his duty to his dead parents, his ancestors, and his sect.

wei wuxian's internal narration about how he later conceptualized the golden core transfer as "his duty to the jiang" is interesting because it is written to be a post-hoc justification. as in, he came up with those reasons and that line of thinking after he already gave up his golden core, and was trying to make the outcome acceptable to himself.

jiang cheng postcanon is in a position to start healing. this take is also stolen from an analysis i read somewhere else, but the one question that's been cooking jiang cheng for the past 13 years is Why. why did wei wuxian do all that? did wei wuxian ever truly care about him, about his family, or was wei wuxian lying from the start? wei wuxian consistently accomplishes the impossible, so how could wei wuxian allow this to happen? but now that jiang cheng knows wei wuxian gave his golden core to him, suddenly all these questions have answers. the cause and effect relationship between A and B makes sense now. and now that jiang cheng has answers, he can let the questions stop cooking his brain and begin to heal and move on.

thank you again for the ask and the kind comments!

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You and Eddie get into an argument about the girl he's giving guitar lessons too. Angst, misunderstandings and bad communication ensues.

Warnings. Mdni. 18+ only, angst. Miscommunication and misunderstandings. Idiots in love. Jealousy.

💞

You and Eddie had been together for a few months and up until this point you had never had a cross word.

He had been giving some girl guitar lessons, her name was Britney and she was gorgeous, amazingly cool and hilarious.

Tonight you had walked in on them laughing together and looking all cosy. Something in you kinda broke inside, it was ridiculous because you knew Eddie would never cheat, but you still felt your stomach bottom out.

Hearing Eddie gush about Britney and how metal she was and was like a rockstar on the guitar didn't help either.

You weren't proud of it but you were quiet and a little less warmer than you'd usually be and when Britney made excuses to leave, you were left wracked with guilt.

Eddie had rounded on you asking ''Why were you being such a bitch?" and that had made you even more pissed and the argument ensued.

"I'm sorry that walking in on my boyfriend looking so fucking cosy with someone else put me in a bad mood" you bite back at him and Eddie's big brown eyes darken in rage.

"You're being fucking ridiculous right now you know that?" it hurt hearing Eddie say that and you lashed out without thinking about what you were saying.

"Oh so I'm ridiculous because I hate seeing some girl make gooey eyes at my boyfriend, I'm such a bad girlfriend for being a little bit wary" Eddie shakes his head and the temperature in the room turns colder.

"Or it's obvious that you don't fucking trust me. So if you don't trust me then what's the fucking point?" your breath hitches and there's a deep pit of gloom and dread, in your stomach.

"Are you breaking up with me?" you whimper and want to take back everything you said, tell him that of course you trust him but you're so stunned, your heart is breaking.

Without another word you storm out before Eddie can confirm your worst fears.

❤️

Instead of going home you go straight to Nancy's who immediately digs out some ice cream and let's you cry out all the heartache, you both stay up most of the night but end up crashing around 5am.

Nancy is ready up and getting ready for school, you have the worst headache and just want to sleep a little longer so she leaves you to sleep, brings you up some pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice that Mrs Wheeler kindly made up for you.

In return you help her around the house, trying anything to take your mind of your heartache about Eddie.

When Nancy comes back home she gently explains that Eddie has been calling you and is worried that you haven't answered.

"I think you need to listen to what he has to say honey, he looks a wreck, I think he's driving Mike and the rest of the kids here after Hellfire so if you want to wait"

Nervously you nod and try to calm your anxious mind that Eddie is going to break up with you for good.

By the time that you hear Eddie's van and he's parked outside, you're on tenterhooks. Eddie looks like he's barely slept, his hair is messier than usual and he has the saddest look in his beautiful brown eyes.

That look makes you want to burst into tears there and then. You hate that you're the cause.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, his voice is rougher than normal, his hands are shaking and you reach out to steady them.

"I'm sorry too Eddie. I was a bitch and rude and of course I trust you, I trust you with my life and I hate that I made you think otherwise" his eyes fill with pain and he swallows.

"I shouldn't have called you a bitch. I've been a mess since you left and I was worried as shit when you weren't answering your phone, Mike told me you stayed here last night with Nance so I knew I would come here as soon as I could"

The tension slowly begins to leave your body and you feel soothed as Eddie pulls you in his arms

"Also Britney has just started dating Gareth, she was learning guitar to impress him and I was teaching her how to play his favourite song."

Fuck. "I'm so sorry Eddie" he softens and kisses your forehead.

"Even if she was interested I don't care. I'm not interested in her. How could you think I'd want her or anyone when I already have the most amazing, beautiful princess"

A warm fluttery feeling pools in your belly and you cuddle into Eddie and peer at him sadly.

"I just got insecure when you talked about how badass Britney was on the guitar and how metal she was" Eddie strokes your cheek and you melt into his touch.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. I didn't realise that was bothering you. Honestly yeah she's metal and pretty badass at the guitar but she's not you. She's not the one I'm head over heels in love with. You are"

"Oh" well shit, you'd definitely fucked up and misread everything. This is the first time Eddie has said I love you. It's a big deal for him, you know that and it is for you too.

"I'd never cheat on you or hurt you princess, I'm so in love with you" Tears roll down your cheeks and you kiss him fiercely.

"I love you too Eddie, I should have tried better at communicating with you" You sigh and cuddle into him, feeling calmer than you have in days.

"We both should learn to communicate better" he corrects you and you nod. It feels like a weight has been lifted of you.

"I really should apologise to Britney too" he hums in agreement.

"She thinks your really cool by the way and she put up with me constantly gushing about you"

Shit. Yeah you definitely have to apologise. In fact you make that your next mission first thing on Monday morning.

For now you were just going to bask in Eddie's love for a little while.

Britney as it turns out is a total sweetheart about the whole thing when you speak to her first thing on Monday and excitedly tells you about her dates with Gareth and how she played him the song Eddie taught her.

Not only do you gain the start of a friendship with Britney but you and Eddie are more in love than ever.

🫶

[reallyromealone]

I think this is it.

Aight, thank you. Here's my request: So Pro-hero Bakugou has a husband (reader) and a son who didn't inherit his quirk. Instead, he got m readers' "weak" healing quirk. The kid hates/dislikes reader for getting his "useless" quirk instead. Meek reader doesn't want tell Bakugou that the son has a crappy teen ego, but Bakugou comes home early to see son berating reader. And Bakugo just scolds the son and explains why the the healing quirk is useful and how reader is amazing. Its a bit angsty, but can we have some fluff comfort at the end pls? Thank you again. :)

I got this

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

One thing no one in U.A expected was for Bakugo to get with Recovery girls grandson, the Omegas quirk being "healing aura" the ability to create a healing must up to 12 feet.

The two teens didn't get along initially, Bakugo crass and rude and (name) very much no nonsense and stubborn, the two constantly butted heads during their stay at U.A.

It was a surprise towards the end of their high school career for the two to move in together with an upcoming engagement "when did they even start dating?" Some would ask only to realize those arguments and comments were actually the two flirting.

(Name) ended up much like his grandmother and travelling agency to agency and helping out post villain attacks and doing what he could, gaining adoration and fans through how much he helped.

They almost forgot he was an Omega till he went on maternity leave.

(Sons name) was very much like Katsuki, a spitfire who had many little options and though Katsuki calmed down considerably there was no denying they were practically clones.

And because of this, it devastated (sons name) when he didn't get his sires "heroic" quirk but instead got (name)s quirk, the boy over time developing a resentment to his Dam.

Due to (name) only being called for emergencies, he ended up taking his late grandmother's place at U.As Medical wing.

And because of these hours, he was often left to care for his son alone while Katsuki did hero work, and because of this missed his son developing into a mythic asshole.

(Name) was exhausted after work, needing to use his quirk a lot today along with quirkless medical practice as many students didn't need his quirk but a simple bandage and such.

The house was a mess, whenever (sons name) came home he always made a mess, deeming it "Omega work" as the teen scrolled his phone "arent you supposed to be studying for the written exam?"

"Why should I? Dad got me in on recommendation, thank god since all you gave me was a shitty quirk" the teen snapped and (name) looked absolutely heartbroken at this as the teen continued "thank god dad's been teaching me martial arts since it's so useless-- seriously why did I have to get stuck with something as useless as your quirk, I'm amazed dad settled for someone as useless as you"

"The fuck you say?" The two turned to see Katsuki Bakugo walk in, out of uniform after finishing work at his agency "d-dad..." (sons name) looked sick and (name) on the verge of tears "your dad's "useless quirk" literally saved countless lives and your dad hauled ass saving countless People from villains" his voice cold as he dropped his duffle bag "why's the house a mess? You not fucking helping your Dam? I know he just got home so I know this ain't his mess" he laughed without any humor "disrespectful little shit, get up and clean this mess, after we train and get ready because it's gonna be hell" Katsuki promised coldly and the teen got up not wanting to piss off his dad more as the pro led (name) to their room.

"How long?" He said pulling the exhausted Omega into his lap, only soft for his mate "honestly since he found out his quirk, it's just been coming out the past few months..." Katsuki was shocked at this, how did he miss this?! "Why didn't you say anything?"

"... You were busy... You were working so hard on building your agency and I wanted to lift some weight off your shoulders" he wanted to cry as his husband held him close "stop being stupid" his voice loving despite the harsh words "I'll whip I'm straight, rely on me idiot"

(Name) was left to relax in the bedroom as Bakugo handled his son, calling a few hero friends to help especially the teens uncle Izuku and uncle Aizawa-- the teen spending his break at his uncle Aizawas and subsequently with uncle Shinsou who was visiting.

By the written exam he was kicked into shape and Bakugo made sure his mate was reminded over and over again how loved he was.

[alwaysshallow]

single mom x price; PART 2

AO3 VERSION

part one || part three || part four

“Please. Be good, alright?”

You look down at your son. He holds his bear close to his chest; defensive, as you sense—you almost sigh at this view. He’s in a bad moment. The moment where he needs no one, but his mom and the cuddles that you normally would give him, if the nanny wouldn’t be on her way.

And it’s his favorite nanny.

You’re reluctant to let him stay in the house, considering not only his humor, but the earlier tantrum that he gave you. Something between “you’re the worst mother ever”—which only gives you an eye roll, but it’s a potential theme for a cry session later on—and “i don’t want anyone else but you”.

Normally, you’d call your mother that loves him to the core, but given that she’s in Hawaii, not really reachable for you and possibly not in the mood to listen to your problems. She only wants to do it when she’s bored, and if she can give you her “golden advice” without a chance of being cut off by you putting a phone away because she crossed a line.

Which happened too many times in the past, since she just absolutely adored engaging in your life. Reminding you every time that you are responsible for the position you found yourself in and the only thing that could possibly save you is listening to her. Marrying the man that she gets to pick.

Because the mother knows best, as she always says.

The irony of beefing with your son is irritating for you too; especially that you need a nanny for an hour, maybe a little more because you need to go to the town meeting. You could skip it, sure, but it’s like skipping an opportunity; and who knows what will happen. Maybe you’ll get around doing something that will bring money, if they will talk about the spring festival.

Last year you got yourself quite a deal, so the thought is exciting enough for you.

The possibility of meeting John is thrilling, too, even if you don’t want to admit it directly. Everything about this man is electric, enticing enough for you to barely be able to think around him. Something is tingling in your chest, when you think about it. He’s acclimatizing well enough in town too, as you learned—and the town meeting is a good chance to see with whom he’s close.

Animal in a zoo, it would be a good comparison, even if it seems cruel for some reason because John is anything but it.

You get to leave the house after five minutes of talking with your nanny. She’s like an angel, considering that she convinced you to leave, telling you that she’s gonna do alright with your son and his tantrums aren’t really the worst thing that happened in her career.

Which, oddly enough, you believe, without even knowing the details.

You sit in the second row at the meeting. Arms crossed, maybe a little defensive, but you’re not opposed to talking with people that sit near you. They show you photos, talk about their family, ask kindly about yours, until someone mentions a husband when you tell them about a situation from days ago.

Normally, you’d probably make a snarky remark about their comment, saying something how rude it is to point to someone that they need a man, when your point isn’t missing someone to help you around.

That’s normally, if your ears wouldn’t catch that voice. The voice that’s hard to forget even if you’d desperately try to do it. Deep, drawing attention to the owner immediately, like a moth to a flame because the desire to look is impossible to resist. Everyone knows that the appearance does the magic, but if the voice is attractive, most likely is the one who has it.

And that’s exactly John Price.

You observe him only with a corner of your eye, assured that if you’re gonna glance at him once then he’s gonna know where you are. It’s like the seventh sense of his, probably acquired after his job, at least you think that’s the case.

You don’t need that. What you actually want, need, is a small dose of mystery that you currently have without him knowing you’re here.

Maybe that’s not fair, but you don’t care.

He talks mostly with guys from the local workshop; they vigorously explain something to him and he nods. Listens, then responds in such a different mannerism that they represent. Calmer, more stoic, yet it can’t be mistaken with indifference. He’s just… thinking type, you assume. The one who calculates before taking any action.

Wise man, so to speak.

Besides the boring stuff at the community meeting, there’s just one thing that could potentially interest you in—competition for the best garden in town. It has everyone gossiping there and there in a deep hope, or strategies what to do to earn a win; mostly those successful, straight out of family movie moms, ideal moms who are doing everything for their families. Chit-chatter about flowers, techniques and stuff disrupts everything enough to make a meeting come to an end. There’s no point in continuing, when no one listens.

You aren’t even considering the competition, but it gets you enough to think of renovating your garden. Forgotten long ago, as it needed too much work when you had a small kid; right now, when your son is six, there’s way more opportunities for you to actually try to tend it. Who knows, maybe spring is the best time for that.

“So. Gonna snatch that first place reward?” You almost jump, when you feel a hand on your hip. Light touch, but waking you up from your thoughts enough to acknowledge how tender it is. Allowing you to back off easily, if you’d feel like it’s too much.

But you know who this is. And you somehow know that it’s not too much.

“I wish,” you laugh dryly, looking finally at John. He arches an eyebrow, then proceeds to walk back to back with you, no hesitation in his moves whatsoever. “Not really a gardener. Besides, knowing how my garden looks right now… Not really a chance, no.”

There’s a second of silence. “Could help you with that,” he says, fixing his shirt; you give him a quick glance. His outfit isn't really different from the other times. Simple flannel, worn out jeans, combat boots and this well-known, plastered smile into his lips. Charming and dangerous, you think. “I have time, if you really want it.”

You clear your throat, conflicted. Do you really care that much about possibly winning a contest? Maybe John’s help would really do wonders, considering that he already helped a lot of people in the neighborhood; with success that didn’t take much time, as you know.

Kind, nice, doesn’t want anything else in return; could work for you for free. You’re 99% sure that you would bake him a pie or something anyway, but the thought you wouldn’t have trouble with payment is nice enough.

“Maybe. I need to think about it.” He raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just nods his head in an understanding manner.

“We’ll exchange numbers, then. It’ll be easier,” John announces, giving you his phone. You look at him, dumbstruck—it wasn’t exactly your plan to do this.

“I don’t— Well, I don’t think it’s necessary—”

He barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Nonsense. Come on.” Price smiles; like an angel, truly. Angel in a disguise of a tempting devil because you enter your number into his contacts, even if you wanted to keep it as a secret a little bit more. “Wasn’t so hard, was it? Didn’t think I’m some kind of a creep, did you?”

Your face flushes with pure red, when he implies that. “No! No. I’m just… I don’t use a phone often,” you croak. White lie that don't really need much explanation from you.

“That right,” he muses, possibly amused with your hurried talk. “I’ll call you in a few, then.”

He sticks to his promise, as you learn over the next few days.

The thing is: you don’t pick up.

It’s not like you do it on purpose. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when you see a few missed calls on the phone, the moment you come back from the grocery store. Or, when you’re out in the garden with your kid, planning how it’s gonna change in the future because you’re just taken-aback by how bad it looks. Like it’s not your garden.

Maybe the problem is your lack of courage to call him, too. It would take one click and you’d be done with the task, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to it. Mixed feelings and the “I can take care of anything” mindset doesn’t help you much.

It feels like a reminder to call back, when you see John outside. He’s in the middle of a discussion with some teenagers that were screaming earlier, disrupting the precious night silence. You thank him in mind that you don’t have to do it—as you got up from bed only for this—you just observe everything behind your window, wrapped in a fluffy robe. You can’t miss the drama, even if it means that you’ll lose a few minutes of your sleep.

Your humor gets better automatically, as you even laugh at how disappointed they seem, going straight up to their homes.

And then, you cross gazes with him.

There’s a faint smile from John. He raises his hand, greeting you, so you do the same. However, the difference in moves is clear. John does it slowly, you almost rush to do it and disappear into your bedroom, so he won’t get an idea that you’re up for a talk.

Because you’re not. You’re too tired to do that, to talk with a man that makes a pretty mess in your head every time you’re around him. And, you’re way too ashamed to do that when he called you multiple times and you haven’t answered even a single one of it.

Some part of you wants to give in and text him right after you see him, but you let this idea flow by. You’re gonna text him at the right moment, you think. The middle of the day, or when you’re gonna see that he works over something, so he won’t be able to read it right away.

You forget about your declaration soon enough. Way too caught up with balancing between home, work and school, you don’t quite realize that the longer you’ll extend the whole thing, the longer it will be over your head.

On Monday, you’re reminded. At first, you don’t really acknowledge it, too irritated that you can’t move your car because someone decided to park behind you, blocking your way. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is your son that does not really care what’s going on. He just sits in the back, playing with his toys, unbothered.

The realization of whose car it is, overwhelms you completely in one moment. You know whose car it is. It’s hard not to, really, when you think about it: there’s only one pick up truck around. The neighborhood is full with families that prefer—most definitely—a car more efficient, a car that has more seats because that’s the only way everyone will fit and ride for football games and all that shit.

The thought you have to ask him out of all people, gives you a migraine.

It’s an awkward thought; the way you have to say something. You haven’t returned any of his calls, treating him like some one night stand (even if it wasn’t the case because you never slept together), and now you want him to move his car. Theoretically speaking, he should do it without even thinking twice.

You can’t help but wonder though, if he’s even gonna acknowledge your plea, given you ignored the shit out of him.

Rude, you think. You’re rude and you did nothing about the calls. About the proposition. You totally ignored John Price, and now you’re embarrassed because you have to ask him something. Maybe if you’d think of calling him back, you wouldn’t even be stressed about this situation. Quick text to him, and there he is, moving his car.

In another lifetime, though. In this, you have to do something else.

After you tell your kid you’re gonna be back in a second, you decide to test your luck and jog into his house, just a few meters away, knocking with a whole monologue in your head. How you need him to move your car because your kid needs to go to school. How you need it to go to the grocery store, you even think of giving him an excuse that you need to go to your mom, even if it’s a straight up lie.

You don’t have to wait long. Door swings open a few seconds later and you can see John, a little bit sleepy and confused—possibly because no one normally wants to see someone at seven in the morning.

He speaks before you have a chance to do it. “So eager to apologize, eh?”

It takes you a few seconds before you stare into his eyes, instead of his chest. “Excuse me?” You blink several times. It’s not like you didn’t understand what he said, it’s just his body that you pay too much attention to. He has no shirt on himself, his sweats low on his hips. Tempting.

You do not look lower than that, for the sake of your sanity. No time for fantasies—and it seems like he knows what you’re thinking, as he smirks with that annoying smugness that he has.

“You haven’t returned my calls,” he says, voice low. Might be the consequence of just waking up, but you think of it as seductive. You’re not gonna rub it into his face though, when he literally has the upper hand in this situation. Wouldn’t be smart. “Thought you’re here ‘cause of it.”

You clear your throat. He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either. “Yeah. We’ll talk about this later, but could you—”

“Why?” John tilts his head. It doesn’t help your case in any way. “We have time, you came here early. Might as well—”

“There’s… a lot going on,” you blurt out, interrupting. You don’t really know if he believes you or not, but he certainly is interested in why. So, before he has the chance to say that, you speak up again, "And you have to move your car first.”

“A lot? You know that I offered to help if something’s too much, right?”

You forget how to breathe for a minute. His tone is hard, a sheer contrast to playful John that was here just a minute ago. Not quite scary, since it doesn’t even sound like a threat, but it is a reminder. Urgent one. “I know, but—"

“None of that. If you need something, you call me.”

“Right now, I need you to fix your car.” Comes out a little bit aggressive. It has Price raising an eyebrow.

“My car seems perfectly good, why would I do that?" John leans against the door frame, looking down at you. You're pretty sure you've never felt smaller than you do now.

Using his advantage to intimidate you is smart. Something that he’s gonna do, if you’re gonna show him that you’re weak for it.

You cough. Trying to be civil here is a necessity, you think. Especially if you actively ignored him before. "Thing is, you blocked my car," you try to explain—calmly, before you run away from him; you even point at your red Mazda, a late birthday gift from your grandfather. "I have to… drive my son to his school."

"I did?" he raises his eyebrow. For a minute, his eyes are off you, attention on the parking lot, trying to search for the problem. Then, he looks at you again. "Mm. Seems perfectly fine to me, love.”

Love. He does it to annoy you, that’s the only reason why he’s so unfazed. Or, he’s trying to achieve something different, but for now, you can’t think straight when this man—half naked man, to be exact—blocks your car’s way, looking good.

Too good.

“I can’t move in any way. You’re… too close.”

“Too close? Could say this sooner—”

“—too close with your car, I mean,” you add, weakly. Price has you stepping on your tiptoes, so careful with picking your words. Precise what you mean because if you’re not gonna do it, he could take advantage and change the meaning.

He chuckles, his smile widening. If he’d be anyone else, you’d think that is a predator move. “Makin’ you all nervous and stressed. Why? Am I this scary, love?”

Again. Again this pet name.

“Just— Can you, please, move your car?” you ask, massaging your temples. He makes you weak in the knees and irritated at the same time; you don’t even acknowledge the steps forward that he makes.

He gets your attention the moment he tips your chin up. This feeling itself is making your stomach jump; skin sizzles with that specific need, deep in your heart that you rather not admit, but it is there. It is there, and John makes it difficult not to melt into a puddle in his hands. Ridiculously warm hands on your skin, to add.

The comfort he brings wraps around you tight like a blanket in particularly cold mornings. Important, needed even, especially in fragile moments. You almost forgot how it feels.

“What car is it? Red mazda?” He breaks eye contact with you for a second to glance once again at the parking lot.

“Yeah.”

He locks his eyes with you again. “Oh, honey. Should say that sooner”

There’s a storm happening inside your head; a strange type of deja vu falls on you like a tsunami wave; unexpected and cruel in some way. Did you not tell him what car is it? That's why he acted funny, so cocky, not taking you seriously? You’re sure you pointed in the right direction, even if you didn’t tell him what car it was. He looked here.

Or maybe he didn't? Why would he lie, though? You might as well be tired, you think. It’s not easy to be a single mom, to balance everything out.

Right?

Storm inside your head makes you ignore the warm feeling in your stomach, when John guides you to the parking lot with his big hand on the small of your back.

“I'm sorry.”

"It's okay. Nothing, really," you gulp. "You're new here, so you might not know my car."

Even if you’re sure you pointed him the direction of it.

“Could know better,” he hums, caressing your clothed skin. Tenderly, afraid to break you in any means. “So, so sorry. Really. And look, now because of me you have to put up with being late. Came home later than usual… If I saw all of that, I’d find a different spot.”

You smile a little, pleased with his explanation. There’s nothing wrong in your mind about this situation, nothing that could indicate that he’s lying. Even if he’s a little too close for comfort, you think it’s because that’s who he is.

He moves his car quickly, while you talk to your kid; he almost didn’t notice your disappearance, too interested in his toys. Even if you want desperately to listen, your brain is too occupied with the previous situation, with Price looking so good without a shirt.

Your son tells you about the “drama” between the elephant and monkey when John comes back into the picture, right before you are about to reverse.

“Everythin’ good now? Nothing else to take care of?”

“Everything’s alright.” You give him another smile. “Thank you, John.”

“No problem.” He glances at your kid, then, back at you. “We’ll have to talk later. About the garden.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll have to.”