#i have been meaning to go to the liquor store so I can make my fucking reishi tincture but it has been like many weeks and the mushroom is

[tomatoluvr69]

Ok help I want to bring a shot or two with me to take in the car b4 I go rejoin ppl at the bar. But I only have fucking green st patricks day creme liqueur in my fucking house!!!!

[star-suh]

Scream

Choi San x Male Reader

cw: top ghostface san, sadist undertones, degradation, dubcon, drunk-ish encounter at first, knife play, anonymous sex?, some edging, handjob, blood play, blowjob, cum eating, breeding, manhandling, nipple play, ripped clothes, choking, semi-public sex, bareback, san is mean to the reader.

an: i think this is way darker than what i usually write ngl bcs i don’t know what happened in my mind when i thought about the knife part.

also this is the last halloween special fic, enjoy!! 🎃

it’s halloween week and the murders attributed to ghostface haven’t stopped, it doesn’t help at all that somehow everyone has taken a liking in dressing as him, costume stores ran out of black capes and ghostface masks. “what’s wrong with people?” yn mutters to his friend wooyoung, “i don’t know, maybe it’s the idea of a sexy hot dude under all those clothes” he tries to reason, “yeah but if they all disguise as him it would be difficult to know who’s the real murderer” yn adds. wooyoung shrugs “dumbasses for real”.

“are you going to tonight’s party at my fraternity?” wooyoung asks his friend, “i would feel better if i can keep an eye close to you, you know, i don’t want you to be in the newspaper tomorrow” the joke makes them both laugh “you stupid” yn smacks him lightly on the shoulder “ok i’ll go. but first i have to choose a costume” he says, eyeing his phone. “you could just go naked and say you are a slut, it would be fun. best costume of the night if you ask me” wooyoung blurted out, “shush, i don’t want you to fuck me with your eyes” yn puts his hand on top of the other’s face, covering his eyes and pushing his face away from him “nasty woo”.

store after store yn tried to find a cool costume but it seems that all they sell now is the ghostface one, “why is he so popular” yn speaks to the air, “sigh… i guess i’ll just go disguised as a frat boy” he grabs his phone from his pocket and dial a known number, “hey woo can you lend me your jacket, i’ll go as a frat boy”, “sure bro” woo affirms, “just don’t be late”.

loud music, flashing lights and neon signs decorated the venue, the fraternity house was full with people, a perfect place for a murderer some might say, but they don’t seem to care. “ok here i go” yn takes a deep breath and walks closer to the entrance. man doesn’t like to go to parties, they feel like they drown all his energy but he’s doing it to not worry his dear friend. “you came” wooyoung runs towards yn and hugs him, offering him a cup of liquor he is holding in one of his hands, “yeah…” yn laughs awkwardly while looking around, spotting all the ghostfaces in there, but one in particularly caught his attention. he was standing next to the stairs, he was not moving at all as if he was a statue, but yn could feel his gaze piercing into him, that sensation when someone stares at you but multiplied like 50 times, it was creeping him out.

“umm.. wooyoung?” yn turns around to seek his friend but he wasn’t there anymore, now he looks back at the creepy man and he wasn’t there either, “calm down yn haha you just need to relax, that’s right, just relax” he talks to himself while grabbing a cup of liquor and chugging it all at once. hours passed and yn seems to have forgotten about the creepy dude, thanks to the alcohol in his system. he starts to explore the house, visiting every room on the first floor and now going upstairs, not noticing that from afar someone’s been watching him. “is this woo’s room?” he says feeling tipsy and opened the door, there were two couples in there fucking, thanks to the music they didn’t hear the door opening so yn quietly closed it. his face red in embarrassment and a little tent forming on his pants, “what the fuck” he tries to cover his growing bulge and went running to another room sitting on the bed there. the alcohol didn’t help to cover his hard dick, it was aching, it needed to be liberated from that clothed prison. letting himself get carried away by the pleasure he pulls up his white shirt, biting the hem so it doesn’t get stained when he cums. he tugs his pants down along with his briefs and starts to stroke it, spitting some saliva on his hand to coat his dick with it. he throws his head back, grunting and whimpering in pleasure when suddenly his strokes stopped, but it wasn’t for him, he felt someone else’s hand so he quickly tries to get away from whoever is doing ir, when he looks up a man with a ghostface costume was there, continuing the handjob. “let go please” yn’s body squirmed, the other guy was stroking him but with more pressure. “pleassee” he slurred, his thighs pressing together to try and hide his dick. his dick was getting dry because the anon guy wiped the precum off of his tip with his thumb, yn sees how the man lifts up his mask a bit and a thread of spit falls on top of his tip, he uses it to lubed it and strokes it faster and harder. “hngh wait. slo-slowly. ahhh” a deep voice then suddenly speaks, “okay” and he stops.

next thing yn knew is that his bottom half was completely naked, his dick, balls and ass in full display for the other pervert to see, “you told me to stop but your body is betraying you” his dick and hole throbbing for the thrill, the unexpected pleasure an anonymous guy was giving him, “that’s not-” yn was cut out when the masked man introduced his index finger on his hole. the ring of muscles gripping on it, yn’s hips moved on his own signaling he was close to his climax but ghostface stopped pulling his finger away of the hungry hole, “you will only cum when i say so” he pulls out a knife and scrape the cold metal against yn’s tigh catching him off guard. “what the f-” he was about to scream but then man acted fast enough to cover his mouth, “scream and i’ll gut you while you’re conscious” the sharp blade sliding gently in between his thigh, a fine line of blood coming out of it. he lifts his mask once again showing his creepy yet perfect smile, his wet tongue licking the blood out of the recently made wound, “amuse me tonight and maybe i won’t kill you tonight. think about it you could be the savior of these stupid people, no murders tonight and maybe tomorrow all you have to do is be my slut” the creepy yet sexy smirk on his face would haunt yn from now on. the hand on yn’s mouth slowly undiscovered it and he started to put his fingers inside yn’s mouth and then same on his hole again with the other half, “look at you accepting to be a murderer’s sex toy. you don’t have an ounce of self-respect, do you?”, yn started to cry thinking how low he’s gone now but those thoughts were suddenly replaced by ones with pleasure when four digits entered his ass with the middle one brushing his prostate every time it goes in, “fuck you” yn muttered, with the other’s thumb still inside his mouth, that is now covered in spit. yn’s hole was already so stretched that ghostface’s four fingers entered so easily so he decided to try something thicker. something cold entered inside yn, he lifts himself up to see what was it, he was shocked after realize the murderer was fucking him with the knife handle, “you’re fucking crazy, pull that out of me” with a swift motion yn moved backwards managing to pull it out, “what a pussy” the masked man purred, he stands up grabbing yn by the hips and pulling him closer, “you’re getting on my fucking nerves” that fucking sexy deep voice spoke, he lifts his black cape showing he was only wearing a pair of jeans under it, his torso completely naked showing yn how ripped he was. “fucking looser” he unzips his pants and pulls out his shaft, covering it in his spit and ramming himself inside yn with no mercy, the latter crying out loud feeling his prostate being abused by the other’s veiny fat cock.

his shaft stretched his walls to the max, yn would swear he would not be able to walk after this at least for a week, this provokes that yn mutter curses towards the masked murderer that went unnoticed by the top, whose growls and moans didn’t let him catch clearly what the other was saying, he just chased his own pleasure now.

ghostface grabbed yn by the neck and made him turn around fucking him doggy style, with his hands around the other’s neck to squeeze occasionally, he loves how yn’s grips so hard onto his dick when the oxygen starts to lack on his brain, truly a psycho. grabbing him by his neck, ghostface pulls yn closer towards him, his back against his toned muscles and heaving chest. he starts to explore under yn’s shirt, playing with his nipples, pinching them “nice tits manwhore” ghostface praises and immediately rips his shirt apart leaving him now completely naked, the cold air making yn’s skin crawl, “bet you like being used like this, just a human fleshlight for everyone to dump their spunk on you”. “noo” yn refuted, “i’m not like that”. ghostface keeps plowing yn continuously, his hole already sore and agape with droplets of cum coming out of it, yn has already lost count how many times ghostface has came inside him but that pleasure was always denied to him with the other stopping the fucking or straight up threatening him with the knife. “guess that’s enough for today” he says as the last drop of cum is spurted inside yn. he then turns yn around to see how fucked up he was and glorify himself for it, then he notices the red aching cock begging for release so in what could seem his first act of pity he lifts his mask once again and suck him off, his sexy lips going up and down while his tongue is swirling around the tip and underside of yn’s shaft. ‘shit! he’s skilled in sucking dick’ yn thought, cumming not long after a few more sloppy sucks, flooding ghostface’s throat with thick spunk. yn was tired after all that fucking session but right before falling asleep he catches a glimpse of ghostface swallowing his cum and smirking at him, “sleep well tonight bitch boy, after all you should be proud of how you avoided more murders tonight by just being a cumrag”. he puts his shaft back again in his pants, covered his naked torso with the black cape and pulls down his mask, leaving the room.

“you fucked with the murderer” wooyoung yelled, “shut the fuck up woo, my head hurts” yn said hiding his face from the morning sun, “he even threatened me with a knife, and made a superficial cut on my thigh”, “that’s creepy bro, but i’m grateful you’re okay now” woo took a sip of his iced coffee. “yeah i’m okay, but my ass hurts like hell man”. as they left the restaurant, near the exit was a man reading a newspaper that says “no victims last night, is ghostface taking a break?”

[lndsismaeverything]

Drunken moments

Lnds men gets a little drunk and spills away their feelings at the moment ( MC is already in a relationship with him )

An: here I am writing another fic even though I don't wanna ᕕ(˵•̀෴•́˵)ᕗ took me 3 days to write this ...

Not proof read sorry for mistake and grammar issue. And some words

Xavier

You and Xavier are having a home hotpot. Just a little celebration form todays mission. It was his idea to eat hotpot in the new hotpot restaurant . But when y'all got there it was to crowded and have to wait 2 hours for a table.

Xavier was disappointed to say the least . It was late at night ,almost 10 pm already and he was really craving hotpot

" Xavier why not have hotpot at home? We can buy the ingredients at the store plush it be a lot cheaper and more food" you said looking at his gloomy expression turn into bright smile

" yea, it would be just the two of us too "

The two of you bought the ingredients and headed straight to your apartment since you have all the equipment for the hotpot

No later did you pulled out the alcoholic peach drink you bought a few days ago that was sitting in the fridge, nothing is better then having a cool drink with hotpot on a chilly night

Xavier didn't usually drink but today was an exception and was worth it after defeating a wonderer

I don't know if Xavier can hold his liquor or not judging by his appearance he looks like he'll be knock out cold after a few glasses. Or he can hold it every well since she's been living for over 214yrs on earth now

But let's say he's weak to alcohol for now-

Xavier cheeks are dusted with a hue of pink he should stop drinking while he's still sober. But he can't because of the delicious hotpot u made goes so well which this nice refreshing alcoholic peach drink

After cleaning up the table with the help of your boyfriend you decided to settling on the sofa, to watch a some random comedy video

" Xavier I think u have enough to drink " you said to your boyfriend and grabbing the alcoholic drink and put it on the coffee table, which he protested but let it go

You lay on the sofa , switching from show to show not knowing that Xavier stared at you lovingly. The next moment Xavier lean toward you and kissed your cheeks

It caught you in surprised of the sudden affection of his just now " you look pretty bunbun " Xavier wrapped his arm around your waist and snuggled close

You just smile at him realizing he's a bit drunk but also a bit sober but not completely.

" thank you for the delicious hotpot " his voice so gentle yet soothing

" can we hotpot like this everytime? " he said looking up at you as you played with his soft fluffy hair

" yes of course " you replied, your hand cupped his cheek as you draw small circles.Letting go he plopped his head back on your thighs snuggling close and holding you tighter making you laugh as it tickles

" my honey is the best person in the universe. And not only is she strong, beautiful , kind, trustworthy , independent and a bit stubborn sometimes . She also an amazing cook and Baker."

"I love her so much , my little starlight "

"Your my brightes star in my univers. Beaming brightly when I miss you. Reminding me that I'm not alone "

with that Xavier fell asleep. You turn off the TV and join him holding him tight as he lay on too of you

Both of you woke up from the sofa with back pain.

Zayne

You and zayne just got out of the bar and headed straight home.

Of course zayne didn't drink but that didn't mean you didn't. It was a bummer that zayne didn't enjoyed the free cocktail that the hospital will pay later on . Congratulating zayne for having the title of the youngest doctor that maded it so far in his career as a cardiac surgeon.

The small part only included zayne colleagues and you .

Greyson try to convince zayne to at least have one glass or a beer but zayne refused saying " I'm responsible for taking y/n home "

After zayne dropped you off home you invited him over saying you got him a gift for him. Grabbing the gift from th kitchen table you handed to him and congratulated him on his achievement

He open the gift and it was chocolates

" may I ?" He asked you told him it's his and he could eat it now if he wanted. Knowing zayne sweet tooth he immediately devoured 3 of them while you get something to go along with the chocolate and-

You forget to tell him those aren't just any regular chocolates

" zayne-" your cut off by the sight of him, cheeks tinted pink hes already unwrapped his 4th chocolate already

" these chocolate... I never tasted something like his before..its quite unique ..it taste like Cherry's and grapes.." he popped the the chocolate in his mouth

You told zayne that these chocolate has wine infuse in them. That's why it's taste like grapes and a hit of cherry

each chocolate ball contains 13% alcohol and are meant to enjoy slowly with something salty like ham or cured meat

" how many did you have already? "

" this is my 4th one "

Thinking he has enough already for one night you take the box out of his hands and settled it on the table

You let your boyfriend stay for the night as he can't drive, having eaten a lot of chocolate

You dragged him to your bedroom as he's in a daze looking at you with such fondness. After his shower you have him some spare clothes he left you in case he's staying over

Zayne, siting on the edge of the bed watches you gently dry his hair. He hasn't spoken much since he ate the chocolates which made you a bit worried

" dear, is everything alright ? You seem at a daze, you haven't spoken much since you at the chocolates "

Zayne just pulled you on his lap and started giving you soft butterfly kisses on your face and neck before replying

" it's just that you seem so beautiful that I consider myself lucky to have met you "

"Your existing in my life is everything to me , I can't imagine my life without you by my side...''

"Your my the warmth to my heart, with you I experienced summer in snowy blizzard"

" you're like my precious flower that can survive. in the winter"

" also I want my flower to be careful and not hey hurt during mission . I don't want to see her coming to the hospital injured "

After sharing a moment with your beloved snowman both of you settled to bed , zayne spoons you closely in hin arms kissing the top of your head before whispering " goodnight "

Rafayel

Rafayel avoid drinking during his art exhibition. Especially when someone hands him some wine , wanting to toast him for his great success as young artists

Rafayel doesn't drink the wine as it might be spiked or something. But he except the glass and carefully examinen the wine before cheering with some business men and taking a sip

He's very careful with his surroundings, the moment he say you coming through he excuses himself to be with you

" you late miss body guard "

You apologize and explained that the wonderer you delt today took longer then you expected

" what's important now is that your here "

The art exhibition almost lasted for 4hours, you where by rafayel side the entire time as his request for making up to him for being late.

Rafayel having to meet a lot of people congratulate and toasting him for his newest work , grew more and more red as he takes sip after sip of his wine

Being by your boyfriend as he spoke with some important investors and buyers you noticed Rafayel getting less and less sober

Something wasn't right here, you felt uneasy why was there only wine served and not other drinks?

And the wine they give out isn't weak one either. You saw on the bottle it was 17% alcohol

Feeling worried you looked at Rafayel, you can feel Rafayel getting annoyed and wanted to leave as more people approach him and want to speak with him bout his art you decided its time to go

" let's us give you a toast, to our partner ship Mr. Rafayel ! " they raised there glass before Rafayel could take another sip you took his glass from him and-

" sorry gentlemens I'll drink on Rafayel behalf, he had enough for today " they understand and you leave with your boyfriend

You hold Rafayel hands the inter way out, Rafayel couldn't help but blush, admiring you as you took him away from those annoying people

You called Thomas telling him your taking Rafayel home as he's clearly getting drunk and it was probably someone plan wanting Rafayel to get drunk so they can write something about him and publishing it on the news.

Thomas understand and ended the art exhibition earlier then expected

You call a cab and headed to Rafayel house ( island )

You unluck his house and guide Rafayel inside

" you know what miss bodyguard , your the best bodyguard there is"

" without you my world would be full of black and greys "

" I miss you when your not around "

" I hate it when you keep me waiting "

" but I love it even when your late you try to make an effort to come see me and make it up to me "

" you're my special pearl from the deep sea"

You stayed with Rafayel for the night, the next morning thosmas blew up Rafayel phone asking him to check the news

The news about 'having a secret relationship with his bodyguard?' With a picture of the two of you holding has while waiting for a cab

Sylus

You don't even know how sylus got drunk or at least he looks like he's drunk . When you where at the bace you heard them coming back. So you decided to great them at the door and asked how it go

But you where met with sylus disheveled look like his been hit by a truck

" I'm going to my room don't bother me" sylus said passing through you

You ask luke and kierran about him as they just came from a business deal

You asked like and kieren if sylus drink got spiked . They laugh at you, you think the great leader of onychinus got his drink spiked and fell for it ?

It does sound ridiculous because you know he can handle his alcohol.

Like explain that sylus in hailed some gass that enemy planned , supposedly to make you weak and not able to think straight kinda like alcohol

" yea boss man got hit with ton of gass that's why he looks like that " kierran informed you

" don't worry boss won't go down that easily it will wear off in a couple of hours "

you headed straight to sylus bedroom to check on him but you go to the kitchen counter first to get two glasses of gin fiz that you prepared earlier

You don't know if it's a good idea or not but you already made them anyway

Holding two glass you couldn't knock on the door your about to call for sylus until the door open for you to come in

" didn't I say don't bother me?" stood beside his record player in a robe clearly stated he just got out of the shower

" but you still open the door for me " you settled the two glasses of gin fizz at the coffee table at taking as seat before turning to him

" I heard form like and kierran. How are you doing? Everything okay?"

He just sighed and pick up the glass and drinks it enjoying the refreshing drink before sitting next to you and shared about what happened

" have I ever told you when your with me on the meetings times goes faster? "

"But today was particularly slow bec you where to there so I told them to hurry it up as they where waisting my time. They didn't took that lightly so they grew a surprise attack "

" I was pleased as it turn out like that because I didn't needed them anyway "

" the moment the gass took a but affect on me on the ride to the bace my mind was occupied by you "

" I couldn't stop thinking about you "

" your laughter, your smile, you scent ,everything "

He finished his glass and looked at you, his eyes soft as he gently caress your cheek

" your everything to me..."

" without you I feel trapped in a cage , living out life without it's full potential"

"With you around, I like feel the chains around me being broken setting me free "

" you are my key to my cage..."

" my kitten, my sweetie, my miss hunter, my beloved...."

He's words are sweet and he ment everything he said but you couldnt help but tease him a bit

"Who are you and what have you don't to my sylus" you said you couldn't hold in your laugher .

Sylus just chuckled and shook his head .It was rare for sylus to be sharing his feelings and thoughts

" I wonder if it's the gun fizz fault or the gass you in heiled" you wonder tapping your chin

"Gues we'll never know the answer'' Sylus just took both your hand and gently lean in to kiss your lips

And took another

And another

And another

Before you giggle at him, removing you hand from his , you looped it around his neck before kissing him back

After you finish your glass sylus carried you to him bed , he wants to be sleeping next to you and waking up next you everyday and every night

He carefully lifted the blanket up and holds you tight before humming as soft tune that both of you fell asleep within minutes

[lovebugism]

✶ ┄ FIX IT !

summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3

Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.

But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.

So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.

You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.

It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.

Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours. 

So it really shouldn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Not for a while. 

Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.

He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.

Maybe both.

What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.

She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).

“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”

You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.

She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.

But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve. 

And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.

You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.

Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.

Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.

Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.

You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.

Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.

Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—

You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.

You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.

When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.

Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.

Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.

Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.

“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.

The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”

“…What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”

“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.

It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.

His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.

Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress. 

He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.

You don’t.

“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”

You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.

“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”

“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.

He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.

“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.

“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.

Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”

He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”

You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.

You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him. 

“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.

“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”

You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.

Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely. 

He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.

Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.

It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.

But he can’t even do that.

He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.

It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.

You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice. 

“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”

“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”

“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.

The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.

“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”

“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.

When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.

“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”

Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.

“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”

He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”

“What is?”

“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”

Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.

It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.

It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.

“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.

When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.

It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.

And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.

But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.

You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.

Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.

But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”

“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.

He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.

“No.”

“…No?”

“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”

“Baby—”

“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.

“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”

You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.

“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”

“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.

He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.

“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”

Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.

It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.

“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.

He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.

It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break. 

You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.

You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it. 

Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.

He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”

[jaetyun]

your biggest fan.

04. rodrick heffley

wc: roughly 1.4k ish

"my arms hurt"

"your arms always hurt" your insistent whines only prove to make eunseoks jaw tick in annoyance, wanting nothing more than to take the luggage in his hands and throw it at your face until you fall backwards. it would really funny too, he notes. "plus, you're the one that said you'd help in any way you could."

"i know i said that but i was thinking like, hanging out with anton in his studio all day" you huff, stopping halfway through the hallway to do a small hop, an attempt to readjust the box in your hands. "why'd i get the heavier shit? you literally work out" you're met with a teasing shrug, eunseok opening the door and holding it for you in a small token of pity. rather than a thank you, you reply with scrunching your face, sticking your tongue out in childish rebellion.

the two of you have been packing up the essentials in the house that doubled as their practice and resident hangout spot. the rest would be on the way eventually, though you were sure eunseok had sent them on random errands to delay the inevitable: you seeing sohee and wonbin.

it's not like you hadn't all hung out in this very house countless times, this being your childhood home eunseok inherited once college started. you've spent most of your formative years on the same couch you could spot even from outside the house (where you currently stood, box still in hands from being lost in thought and forgetting how heavy it is), watching a movie the boys had picked purely to watch your discomfort. when you weren't watching a movie, sometimes they'd sneak into the liquor cabinet, not allowing you to leave until you had tried some with them. or maybe the fonder memories were when they weren't being mean to you, like karaoke nights or when you watched them practice with the makeshift drums and guitar they had. the practices they had now were much more professional and definitely sounded better, but it was undeniable you were far more fond of the ones before they got big, back when their biggest problem was learning how to read music.

you were startled back to reality by eunseok finally having remorse, snatching the box from your hand and placing it carefully with the other necessities you were storing on the porch for easier delivery when shotaros big ass truck got there. you mumbled a thanks, crunching and releasing your fingers in tandem now that they're finally free, watching your brother silently nod before walking back inside first. he's definitely gotten softer since middle and high school, and the terrorizing brother who used your misery as entertainment had faded with puberty.

"i'm hungry" your complaining starts up again, following into the kitchen where you make a dramatic display of your tragedy by laying down on the island table. eunseok scoffs, placing a water bottle next to you mid tantrum. "the guys will be back in like 20 minutes with food, you can survive." at the reminder, you turn around so you're now on your stomach, swaying your feet in the air with a grin. your brother stares at you for a second, a mix of judgment and disgust overtaking his face. "dont go ignoring everyone else when he gets here. especially sohee, you barely glance his direction at this point. it's honestly really depressing to watch"

your eyebrows raise at this, glancing at your brother suspiciously. "you want me to pay attention to sohee? what did he bribe you with to get you to say that" you sigh out, fidgeting with the water bottle cap while speaking.

"you've known him longer, he misses his friend." he walks over, pinching your cheeks to coo at you before you're swatting his hand away. "eugh! i dunno what's infected your brain to be asking me to hang out with sohee when normally i'm not allowed in a 10 foot radius of your friends. need me to babysit him or something?" he rolls his eyes, taking a seat in one of the chairs while you still sat stomach down, your head now resting on your crossed arms. "he's not even the youngest. i just think you shouldn't be so googoo gaga over wonbin, it's weird."

as if on queue, the door swung open, bag of greasy fast food in antons hand while he did a sing song hum to signify he's home.

"yn get off the island! you're gross germs are gonna get on the food" shotaro nags, walking toward you while you slowly shuffle off. "you'd love it if you had my cooties, it'd the first time a woman gave you anything-" eunseok covers your mouth with his hand, using the momentum to push you back so he could take a peak inside the to-go bags. he made quick work of it, taking the wrapped burgers and handing it out to the regular buyers of that item.

once you got your requested order, you glanced at sohee, the words your brother said ringing in your head. looking around, you spotted wonbin after, eyes softening and feet about to work on autopilot before you blinked yourself back to reality. sohee was in the corner of the kitchen, resting against the counter seemingly in his own world. looking back at wonbin, it was clear he was occupied talking to anton while they surveyed the drinks and messed with them inside the carrier. after pausing for a moment, your feet begun to move again, walking toward the person you'd rather talk to.

"heehee" you hum, walking over to sohee who was inspecting his burger. he gave you a nod, a smile etching on his face even if his gaze immediately returned to the burger. "is it true you miss your ex bestie?" you tease, hands under your chin to frame your face while batting your eyelashes. he snickers, deciding to dismiss the burger entirely and now focusing on you. he nods in confirmation, the cheeky smile still on his face. "we never hang out anymore, alone or in a group"

your pose drops, sticking a tongue out at him. "well that's your fault for homie hopping to my brother" wonbin walks over to where you guys stood in the kitchen, drink in one hand while the other slides onto the counter next to sohee. "why're you guys hiding from us?" although it's clear there's humor in his voice, he gives sohee an unreadable expression before sohees rolling his eyes, gesturing to you. "she came over here to pick on me." your eyes widened, scared of making a bad impression on wonbin and him viewing you as anything other than the alluring gentle girl. "not true!" there sohee goes, setting operation loverboy back 15 steps.

"oh. well then leave him alone yn" you nod dumbly, an apologetic smile on your face. he returns the smile before turning back to sohee. "we're loading the truck right now, we could use the extra hands" he gives sohee, who is now also exchanging an expression you can't quite place, a hardy pat on his forearm before swiftly exiting. sohee sighs, taking one last bite out the mostly untouched burger before looking back at you. "well i'm glad you decided to join us on tour, i dunno about anyone else know i missed your company. make sure to say hi to shotaro and anton too" he finishes, now sliding off the counter and rolling up his sleeves while walking toward the front door. watching all the boys pile out, you sat there wordlessly. this was the first time you were truly gonna be surrounded by the band and only the band, and though you were more than happy to spent most of your time with wonbin it soon sunk in how everyone else would be there too. sohee seemed more excited to see you than even hiyyih, who was the president of your fanclub. shotaro and anton were the same as ever, adding to the group what the other three lacked in high school perfectly. though you joined purely for your quest with wonbin, it soon became clear this trip was about a lot more than you trying to win over your lover boy. it wasn't until your phone dinged that you had snapped back to reality, hand automatically going to your pocket to reply.

previous - masterlist - next

since your brother formed a band with his friends in high school, you've had a massive crush on the aloof and reserved wonbin. him never paying you mind never bothered you until they became famous, and now you have to share him with every other fangirl. now that they're on tour, it's the perfect opportunity to make wonbin realize he doesn't want to share you either.

taglist @jvngw0nlvr @tocupid @seunghancore @molensworld @starwonb1n @yizhoutv @yipyipmorals @gyehyeonist @icewons @renjuneoo @soobiverse @fae-renjun @nujeskz @woonagi-lemon @miy-svz @binoyu @ricecakeslove @i03jae @meowbini @https-yeonjun @snowyseungs @p-d1ddy @saranghoeforanton @secretiny @aloverga @potatosoulp1h @dimplewonie @taroddori i @suzayaaa @brachioswrld @flaminghotyourmom @haowonbins @kyusqult

[wonysugar]

it’s so over for me…. ch. 12

wdym y/n’s drunk??

word count: 2.9k

warnings: alcohol, weed and sex!! :]

tags: puppy kink, spitting kink(?), sub!aeri, dom!yn, bathroom sex, it’s a college house party idk what to tell you,,

there you were, in the middle of this horrible-decision-making-young-adults infested place, clothed in what you swore you wouldn’t even consider wearing. look, there was nothing else you could’ve done, it was around 11pm at the time, every store was closed, and even if they weren’t, you had like, no money. you had to work with what you had which was apparently a bunch of fuckass warm hoodies and sweatpants.

stopping yourself from just standing somewhere just observing everyone having fun, you decided to walk around after a bit. squeezing yourself through the unending piles of people drinking and smoking just by the front door. it reeked of marijuana as soon as you entered the house, but honestly, it was a college house party, what were you expecting?

at the corner of your eye, you spotted your two surprisingly decently dressed best friends, heejin and kazuha, standing next to the very cliche, very heavily liquor-filled red cups. heejin was wearing a black crop-top that very much showed cleavage with a black short skirt, the outfit completed by thin fishnets and thick black boots. kazuha, went for a more cozy look and wore a baggy white long-sleeved shirt under a brown graphic tee. her baggy pants were black and matching with her black and white converse.

you quickly rushed to get to them, waving at them as you still squeezed through. soon enough, they noticed you as you got out of the huddle of students.

“..what are you wearing.” heejin raised an eyebrow, her eyes slightly widened at the sight of the god-awful clothing before her. you shrugged, also eyeing her up and down.

“look. you know that i had nothing to wear! actually, let’s not mind my clothing, you wanna talk about the fact that you dressed up like a gothic slut?” you teased back, earning a small, amused oohh from kazuha.

“this is a college party, y/n, not bible study. everyone here is supposed to dress up like whores.”

you both subtly looked at kazuha’s attire, her innocent face looking back at the both of you just making the whole ‘loser girl who got lost on her way to the gaming café’ vibe look even more ridiculous. it’s okay though, she looked gay and confused enough to attract girls.

-

ning and aeri were watching this very random guy who’s been doing a very random handstand for about 20 minutes whilst everybody was hyping him up.

“holy shit he’s so fucking red.. he might actually faint from this oh my god??” said aeri, wiping away her tears of laughter with her finger while still cackling hardly at the scene. she was being careful not to damage her nails in any way. i mean, she got them done three days ago, they were precious.

ning glanced away to contemplate if throwing this party was even a good idea in the first place, that’s when she saw you watching your friends down whole cups of vodka and laughing with them.

well that answers her question!

she nudged a still laughing aeri with her elbow, annoying smirk plastered on her face as she still watched you from afar. “aeri, look at this.” she said, eventually, said girl looked in the same direction, still barely getting over the dude that was circled by people while he was practically doing acrobatics, “huh, what’s up?”

“isn’t that your girlfriend? you should go talk to her.” ning suggested playfully, earning a scoff from aeri. “also what the fuck is she wearing.” she quietly added, not realizing that she said that sort of outloud.

“i’m not going over there, she’s gonna like, judge me.” said the japanese girl, now gently rubbing on her arm as her expression morphs into one of worry. aeri uchinaga displaying nervous tics? that’s new.

“aeri, you’re the most popular girl on campus, everybody wants to either be you or be with you. if y/n l/n judges you, then you can jus-“

“where the fuck is jimin? we’re already all out of booze, god damn it.” minjeong interrupted, crashing into the conversation with absolutely no care about what they were talking about beforehand, which was typical minjeong behavior, so they weren’t offended.

“i don’t fucking know? probably making out with some girl?” aeri responded, wearing a cocky smirk while ning chuckled. it was very, and i mean very probable that jimin was doing someone right now. sure, she pretended to be homophobic when it came to aeri for shits and giggles, but that girl basically fucked everything she found remotely attractive. and that, included lots of girls and boys on campus, who were also coincidentally all rich?

“oh how lovely. well, we all wonder when that’s gonna be you with y/n! you fucking bitch..” she shoves her cup onto aeri as she mumbles that last bit then glares at both of the girls before walking away. in minjeong’s language, that basically meant “okay, thanks for letting me know! love you!” so they just sent her her way with a wave that she didn’t even get to see. ning immediately then turns back to aeri.

“okay, so, like i was saying! you should just be cool, unbothered, nonchalant. you know what i mean? who cares if she rejects you, there’s plenty of fish in the sea.” she said, trying to reassure her best friend and pretending like she didn’t completely rat aeri out to y/n not even a week ago at starbucks.

aeri, in return, only gave her an even more worried look, the one that she usually had whenever she sighed deeply and went “ughhh i don’t knowww..”, but this time she just stayed quiet. she was gonna have to watch from afar, yet again.

ning eventually gave up on convincing aeri to talk to you and went to go have well-deserved fun which meant finding minjeong and grinding on her just to piss her off. aeri, on her side of the room, was leaning on the wall and just kept staring at you, dramatically drowning in her own despair as she took small sips of her drink, sighing and biting her lip.

that’s when you two made unintentional eye contact, the both of you feeling awkward and quickly looking away, the ‘wanting to sneak a glance at someone but not knowing they were already looking at you in the first place’ cliche, if you will. that’s when aeri decided she needed to grow some balls! she exhaled sharply, taking one big gulp of her vodka, then gripped the cup in her hand for security.

she was gonna talk to you tonight, whether you liked it or not.

the next time you looked at her from across the room, she was already staring you down, which caused you to look back at her, trying your hardest to look intimidating, and also somewhat hot? you ran your hand through your hair, grabbed your drink from the table next to you and took a sip, holding very intense eye contact with her. the alcohol went down your throat, spiky, and you did your best in not grimacing. you were also hoping this wouldn’t start anything violent, considering that heejin went to go dance and kazuha was probably somewhere in the house, standing in a corner playing candy crush on her phone, so you were kinda powerless in this situation.

seeing you stare at her like this, all while swallowing some strong ass alcohol as if it was a regular tuesday for you turned her on way more than she’d like to admit. it infuriated her how pretty she found you in your ridiculous, bland, stupid, cute outfit. oh she was livid. she took one or two step towards you as she was practically guzzling down her drink, as if to challenge you.

oh it was on.

-

“heyy kazu, have you seen y/n? i can’t find her, she’s not upstairs nor is she in the basement.” heejin asked, leaning on the table. she wasn’t exactly worried about where you could’ve been, just weirded out. you’d usually stay in one place for a whole event then go home after a few hours.

kazuha, looked around, slightly tipsy, but still being able to articulate proper words, “uhhhhh no? last time i saw her she was downstairs chugging down booze. knowing her, she’s probably drunk as fuck right now.”

heejin furrowed her eyebrows hearing that whole sentence, “drunk?? what do you mean y/n’s drunk, she never gets drunk???”

-

you snatched the random vodka bottle that was conveniently next to you, ignoring the wasted frat boy whining and telling you to put it back, then you take a step of your own towards her. you very aggressively take off the lid of the bottle and chug it down, which you very quickly realized was a really bad decision. since you barely drank in your day to day life, you were already sorta drunk, so making out with the bottle and drinking all of its fluid was not helping. you felt your vision go blurry.

several, and i mean several minutes of taunting each other, getting voluntarily tipsy out of your minds and getting progressively closer to each other, you ended up face to face. her hooded eyes piercing through yours. her face slightly flushed from alcohol. her bottom lip swollen from the amount of times she bit into it while looking at you and oh my god her eyeliner looks really really really well done? you wished you could do it as good as he-

focus, y/n. this is war. confront her, ask her why she’s this much of an asshole all the time, why she’s been on your ass ever since you quote retweeted that definitely-not-pretty-at-all picture, why she totally has a big humongous lesbian crush on yo-

suddenly, you felt her lips on yours, hungrily kissing you, seemingly not giving a fuck about who sees. her hands roaming your body, gently tugging at your hoodie as she made out with you.

what the fuck?

what the fuck??

wow her lips felt nice?? you confusingly kissed her back, with just as much desperation. you couldn’t lie that the kiss was making you feel some sort of way, especially with the manner that her hands sneakily cupped your ass as you allowed her tongue to roam your mouth, quietly whimpering at the feeling. she wouldn’t hear it anyways, not only was she completely out of it, but the music was also too loud to even hear anything of the sorts.

she pulled away for a quick while, hazily smirked at you and gently grabbed your wrist, leading you into what seemed like… the bathroom? you really couldn’t tell, your vision was a blur. you quickly put the bottle somewhere on a counter close by before entering the restroom.

the only thing on your barely functioning mind at that moment was kissing aeri again.

-

“there you are. i’ve been looking for you for what felt like hours.” said minjeong, staring down at a red-eyed jimin, sitting on the couch holding a lit and rolled up joint whilst giggling.

“sorryyyy, i was exploring this one girl’s body right then some really hot guy joined in? shit was wild minjeongie you should’ve been the-“

“i don’t give a flying fuck about all of that yu jimin, we’re out of booze, fix it. quickly.” coldly ordered the shorter girl as she crossed her arms, making the taller one groan annoyingly.

“oh my goddd girl, i put a bottle on the table downstairs, just drink from that.” whined jimin, taking yet another puff of her almost finished joint.

“yeah, i was going to until y/n took the bottle. i have no fucking clue where she put it, so get up and go get more.”

-

there you were, leaning on one of jimin’s bathroom doors, hand on the knob to block anyone from entering. aeri was pinning you to it, her head in the crook of your neck, kissing and licking on it while her hands rest on your waist, fingers occasionally digging in.

your top was off, because according to her, “it needed to go”, which could mean multiple things ranging from sexy to just mean, but you were too drunk to even comprehend simple words, so you shrugged it off and just took off your hoodie for her, leaving you with only your bra.

with time, she went further down with her mouth, getting to your collarbone and placing hungry kisses there, then to your barely clothed boobs, where she did the same thing. you could feel her smiling stupidly against you as she kissed them, then she wrapped her arms around you, unhooking your bra.

she put her mouth on one of your nipples as soon as they were exposed, making you gasp at the sensation that was amplified by 10, thanks to the alcohol you consumed earlier. one of her hands now groping your other tit and playing with the bud. you felt her other hand tease your lower stomach, slowly sliding it down your sweatpants.

“fuck aeri..” you quietly moaned out, feeling her smirk against you yet again, gently rubbing her long fingers on your clothed and embarrassingly wet cunt. it angered you, how horny she got you.

she pulled away from your chest, looking at you cockily as she slightly tilted her head, “you’re so wet for me y/n, i thought you hated me?” she scoffed.

does she ever shut up?

you rolled your eyes, now annoyed, “god, you’re so fucking infuriating.. use your mouth for something good for once and just eat me out already. you’re the one who dragged me in here, so shut the fuck up and do something.” you saw how aeri’s smirk dropped a tad bit, oh how it amused you. she definitely wasn’t expecting you to be this.. demanding. it, very surprisingly, turned her on. a lot.

she was always the one doing the talking, she was always doing the ordering, now why were you always the one to make her discover things about herself, damn it?

you groaned at her. she was looking at you like some baffled dumbass. you grabbed her straightened long brown hair in a swift motion, earning an unexpected but very welcomed whine from her.

“did you not hear me? take my pants off and get on your fucking knees, i don’t have all night.” you sternly said, watching how her eyebrows furrowed, she really didn’t like the idea of you being in control of things and it showed. yet, she obeyed, like the good little bitch she was, she obeyed.

as soon as she pulled your pants and panties down, aeri got on her knees and looked up at you with glossy eyes, probably tearing up from the pain she felt on her scalp when you pulled on it. that poor girl, her expression a mix of anger, lust and fear of what you might do to her.

in response, you could only chuckle, seeing her this vulnerable looking, completely at your mercy, it did something to you. you never thought you’d enjoy this, especially due to the fact that you’re usually the submissive one in these types of situations, but it seems like the alcohol was doing the speaking for you.

“come on, get to work puppy.”

she kept eye contact, exhaled heavily as she closed her eyes a moment, giggled nervously as she mumbled a small ‘what the fuck am i doing.’ then, ended up going in.

her tongue gave small puppy licks to the entire surface of your slit, messily tasting the slick that was coated all over it, eventually teasing also your folds and entrance. you threw your head against the door you were leaning on, running your hand through her now not-so-straight hair, so intoxicated that you couldn’t control the noises that came out of you, you just kept calling out her name, you just kept muttering how much of a good bitch she was being for you, and she loved every second of it.

aeri, apparently was too, heavily intoxicated, because whenever she gave a suckle to your clit, or even when she inserted her tongue inside of you, she just couldn’t help but let out every noise that wanted to come out of her mouth. humming and moaning your name against your core, even digging her new nails into your hips and thighs.

“open your mouth baby.” you ordered, running your thumb across her wet bottom lip.

“m-mhm.” she moaned, looking up at you with teary eyes, her mascara running down her cheeks, her eyebrows upturned as she stuck out her numb tongue. you spat in her mouth, still rubbing her lip with your thumb. she didn’t even bother to question it, she just swallowed it like the stupid, desperate whore she is for you.

despite how exhausted you might’ve been, despite how blurry everything was to you at that moment, despite how confused you still were about everything, one thing you did know was that she was making you feel soooo good, you couldn’t stop using her pretty mouth, so much so that you planned on using it all night long.

-

“no seriously where the fuck is y/n?? i’m not leaving without her jimin.” yelled a very worried, very tipsy heejin, screaming at jimin while kazuha, the only one remotely sober at that moment, held her back from jumping the other girl.

“damn girl, relax.. your friend is probably somewhere upstairsss.. i’ll send her off tomorrow whenever she wakes up, okay? now please, leave.”

and just like that, the door was slammed shut on both of your best friends’ faces. they processed all of it, then had to call a cab to get them home safely.

while in the car, they were both praying you were okay, and that you were sleeping soundly somewhere in that house.

they thought of every possible scenario that could’ve happened to you,

but aeri tonguefucking you all night in the bathroom definitely was not one of them.

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[alittlebitofloveliness]

can you pls write something with purly where curly hurts pony’s feelings and they argue but then curly tries everything to get pony to forgive him :))) basically super angsty with a happy ending

Hi anon! Sorry this took so long but it's also way longer than I anticipated so I hope it lives up to expectations. It's also not edited so please excuse any typos. Please lmk what you think xx

****************

“Fuck off, Curly!”

Curly has been told to fuck off a lot in his life. In fact, he’d even say he’s been told to fuck off by Ponyboy a lot in his life- but until now Ponyboy’s never meant it. Not really.

Now though, with his dreamy eyes blazing and his hands curled into fists it’s clear that Pony means it and Curly has well and truly fucked everything up. Tim was right- he really does ruin everything.

“Pony-”

He’s cut off when Pony takes a swing at him, and just barely manages to duck out of the way. It’s a testament to how much he likes Ponyboy and how sorry he is that he doesn't swing back. Restraint is not something he was raised with in the house where he learned to meet violence with violence because it’s better to leave a mark on someone else than to take all that hurt without dishing out your own.

Still. It doesn’t mean he’s not angry.

“Can you just fucking talk to me? I said I was sorry!”

“And I told you to fuck off, so fuck off!” Pony rages back, “You come anywhere near my house an’ I’ll set Darry after ya with a baseball bat! Me’n you are done Curly Shepard! Done!”

He storms off and Curly lets him because he’s lost a lot of people in his fifteen years and knows the look Pony just gave him is as final as any coffin being lowered into the ground or any car disappearing around a street corner.

Suddenly, he has the horrible urge to cry. Instead, he bites the inside of his cheek hard until it floods with the taste of iron and makes his way to the liquor store, eager to forget everything that’s just happened and everything he’s just lost.

The broad behind the counter doesn’t seem to get the hint untill he pulls out his switchblade and makes it clear he isn’t asking to leave with the whiskey, he’s telling her he is. She yells after him, something about cops and trouble and Curly doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything. 

Tim finds him when he’s drank at least a third of the bottle, chucking rocks at passing trains and spoiling for a fight. He’s close enough to Brumly territory it won’t be hard to find one if he really goes looking, and Marshall Decicio and him tussle often enough all he’d have to do is look at him wrong, but apparently Tim isn’t in the mood to have to drag him off of someone or out of a bar tonight because he pulls up in the beat up old pickup truck and tells him to get in.

For a second he thinks about refusing, about pissing Tim off too so he’d leave him alone like he deserves, but Tim is not the sort to take no for an answer and Curly wants to fight but doesn’t want to fight him, so he relents and gets in. Tim doesn’t say much, but Curly can tell that he knows, and the shame that bubbles up in him makes it so he can’t even look at him.

Ma is holding court in the living room when they get home, high as a kite at three in the afternoon, her buddies all in a similar state. She’s got some of the good stuff out on the table and for a second Curly considers reaching for it, considers taking something that will grant him a far better oblivion than the one his bottle has yet to offer, despite the fact it’s now almost half empty. 

Tim yanks him away before he can.

“I know you love him,” he says, and Curly’s heart fucking sinks because he does, even if he couldn’t say it, and now Ponyboy wants nothing to do with him ever again, “but don’t go down a road you can’t come back from just ‘cause you don’t wanna feel it right now.”

“But-”

“No.” He can’t quite decipher the look in Tim’s eyes through his boozed up haze, “You’re not Ma, Curly. Don’t let yourself be.”

He half tosses half drags Curly to his room then, and Curly considers climbing out the window just to be a shit, but it’s warm in here, and Angel isn’t home right now so for once he has the room to himself. Him’n Pony could’ve been hanging out here, if Curly hadn’t been such a monumental asshole.

Hours later, when Angela gets back she finds him on the floor, lighting match after match just to blow them out again, his whiskey near empty at his feet. He’d thrown most of it up around the same time he choked a lot of it down, and while it hasn’t done much to get Ponyboy out of his head it sure has dulled any plans to go out again and do something stupid. He’d tried standing a little while ago and discovered he couldn’t seem to walk right. 

“Idiot,” Angel says when she sees him, but it lacks any of her usual scorn, and not for the first time Curly thanks his unlucky stars that Angel- who isn’t soft for anyone- can sometimes be soft for him. When he needs her, and sometimes even when he doesn’t.

She grabs his latest lit match and uses it to light herself a cigarette, before hauling him to his feet and dumping him on his mattress. 

“You ain’t gonna puke are you?”

“Already did,” Curly mumbles, suddenly feeling more sick than he has in a while and Angel just nods, sitting next to him and pulling her knees to her chest.

She’s small, like him, always has been but she makes up for it by having a big attitude and a big temper, and right now, a big protective streak. 

“You okay?”

And, no, Curly thinks it’s pretty obvious he isn’t.

Angela nods. “I uh, I heard what happened.”

A fresh wave of guilt claws its way up Curly’s throat. 

“It’s stupid,” Angela continues, and Curly snaps his head up to stare at her. He’d made fun of Pony’s dead best friend. It was cruel was what it was, and Curly has never known how not to be cruel, but there's no one he’d tried not to hurt as much as Ponyboy and then he’d gone and hurt him anyway. 

You ruin everything. Tim’s words from a week ago echo in his head again and he bites his cheek again to stave off the tears. 

“Stupid or not,” Curly hears his breath hitch, “he ain’t ever gonna speak to me again.” 

Angela fixes him with a glare. She’s good at that. 

“Make him.”

“Angel-”

“Are you a Shepard or not? You know well as I do that if you want something you have to take it.”

“Oh sure,” he rolls his eyes but stops immediately when it makes his brain hurt, “I’ll just go over to the Curtis place and start chattin’ while Darrel Curtis beats my head in.”

“Jesus, quit bein’ a drama queen, that's Ponyboy's job. Yours is to fix this.” She rolls her eyes, “Or don’t. Go ahead and rot for all I care.” 

She climbs to her feet, scrubbing a hand through his hair before she leaves, muttering under her breath about how this is the last time she tries to help him with anything.

Curly grins. He’d never admit it, but Angel really is his best friend in the whole damn world, for all she’s a bitch of the highest degree. She knows the score. 

Suddenly, it’s easy to fall into a dreamless sleep.

When Curly wakes the next morning, head pounding and mouth drier than Tim’s sort of humour, he’s ready. It’s time to put his plan into action. 

If getting out of bed was torture, walking into WIll Rodger’s high school has to be his own personal hell. He can already barely stand this place when he isn’t violently hungover, but Ponyboy will be here and Curly only ever wants to be where he is, even if they aren’t speaking right now.

They only have two classes together- spanish, where Curly usually sits beside him and whispers dirty things in his ear Pony has long since learned not to ask the teacher to translate for him- and phys ed. Pony’s too smart for them to be in anything else together, and PE isn’t until the end of the day. No way is Curly sticking around that long.

So spanish it is.

He’s fifteen minutes late when he walks into the class but the teacher just sighs and tells him to take a seat. Honestly, Curly thinks the old guy’s got a soft spot for him. He used to think it was because he speaks spanish already so the teacher didn’t much have to worry about trying to teach him, but Angel speaks it too and Mr. Dimirend can’t stand her so Curly doesn’t know. Must be his irresistible charm.

His usual seat is taken by a blond haired soc Curly decides is his new enemy number one, so he takes an empty seat at the back of the class and gets to work making spitballs.

The first is a direct hit, landing in Pony’s slicked back hair and sticking there, but the guy’s got a mop that could rival Curly’s own and he doesn’t seem to feel it. Spitball two goes wide, then Mr.Dimirend sets them a speaking task and everyone turns to their seat partner and starts talking in a horrible bastardization of Curly’s beloved native tongue, so he gets distracted by sending spitballs at the worst of them. Honestly, this is supposed to be an AP class. You’d think they’d at least try and roll their ‘r’s. 

Socy Blond McFuckface is trying and failing to ask Ponyboy what his favourite colour is when Curly’s spitball lands right in his wide open mouth and the kid gags, immediately spitting and starting to choke. Curly rolls his eyes. it’s not like he’s gonna die from a spitball.

Of course the whole thing kind of becomes a deal, and Mr.Dimirend looks kind of concerned, but Ponyboy is stifling laughter so the whole thing is kind of worth it, even when he gets detention- at least, it’s worth it until he tries to meet Pony’s gaze and share the joke and Pony pointedly refuses to look at him, jaw tightening as he turns back to the front. 

Curly gets up and walks out of class, deaf to Mr. Dimirend yelling after him. What does it even matter? It’s not like he doesn’t already know how to conjugate verbs in the conditional future tense.

Besides, he’s got a more important conditional future to worry about right now.

Phys ed isn’t until the end of the day, but Tim isn’t here to make him go to his other classes so Curly sure as hell isn’t gonna. He thinks maybe he might go key some socs car in the lot just to feel something. Or maybe he’ll try and find Bryon Douglas so he can beat the shit out of him.

“Curly Shepard I know that’s not you skippin’ your english class right now.”

Despite himself, Curly grins.

 “Me? Skip class? C’mon Miss D, you know I’d never,” he drawls, giving his best impression of Angel’s wide eyed innocent look, “I gotta keep all them dirty hoods in line.”

The lunch lady shakes her head, giving him her best unimpressed look even as her black eyes twinkle. Curly doesn’t respect pretty much any adult figure, but he can’t help but like Miss D. She reminds him a bit of how abuela used to be whenever she was sober and before she went senile. Except she’s a lot smaller than abuela ever was, and her skin is a few shades darker than abuela’s, closer to his own shade than to Tim or Ma’s. 

Miss D tilts her head, sizing him up. He fully expects her to frog march him to his english class, scolding him all the while in her native Tamil that he wouldn’t comprehend but would understand just the same. 

“Come with me,” she says instead, tuning on her heel, and Curly knows better than to argue. Usually with the aunties or grandmothers it’s best to do as he’s told.

Miss D leads him through the back door of the cafeteria and through the kitchen, all the way to a tiny back room that’s probably used for prep if the walk in fridge and counter space is any indication. She pulls down a cutting board and parks him in front of it, dropping a pile of tomatoes beside him.

“Here.” She passes him a knife (and isn’t that a bold choice), “Slice them into circles for me.”

“If I’d known you was gonna set me to work I mighta taken my chances with the english class.” 

He wouldn’t and Miss D knows it, because she simply raises an eyebrow at him. Curly picks up a tomato and starts chopping.

Miss D. gets her own cutting board set up, her slices a lot faster and more even than Curly’s, before she speaks.

“You are upset.” She’s not asking, and for the millionth time Curly wonders how she seems to always know everything, “Why? What did you do?”

Curly glares down at the cutting board and slices a tomato a tad harder than is probably necessary. 

“Nothing.”

“Do not lie to me, boy.”

The words are severe but her tone is kind. He’s always been comforted by her accent, a remnant of her life back in Ceylon, so different from abuela’s but alike in how different is it from the drawl of everyone else in the american south. Maybe that’s why she can always manage to get him to spill his guts, even when he doesn’t really want to. Abuela used to be able to make him do the same.

“My best buddy is mad at me,” he admits, and it sounds stupid but it isn’t because Pony is his best buddy but he is also more than that, so much more, and he can’t lose the only person who seems to like him no matter how stupid or reckless or strange he is. He can’t. 

Miss D hums. “And why is he mad?”

“I did something stupid,” Curly admits, the shame welling in his chest along with the urge to go and do something dumb to forget about it, “we were arguing and I said something mean. Like, horribly mean. I forgot that he ain’t Angel or Tim, that it wasn’t like at home where it’s no holds barred and we just move on, yknow? I forgot he wouldn’t realize I didn’t mean it, not really. His house-” he hesitates, struggling to put stuff into words. Feelings have never made sense to him, and now is no exception, “his house ain’t like mine, y’know? Every fight in his family ain’t a fight for survival so he don’t ever say stuff like what I said to him, and I-I ruined it. He’s the best buddy I ever had and I ruined it, the way I ruin everything.”

“I see,” Miss D says, scooping his chopped tomatoes into a bin, and waving him to follow her into the kitchen, “that seems like a difficult situation.”

“Whatever.” Curly says, sick and tired of being vulnerable and mad Pony makes him this way, “I don’t care.”

“Now you aren’t just lying to me, you’re lying to yourself.” 

“It ain’t a lie.” Curly lies.

Miss D shakes her head as she drops a basket of fries into the fryer, the tomatoes waiting on the counter. Must be burger day then- for anyone who can aofford it that is. 

“We were having such a good chat. Don’t run away from me now.”

Curly shakes his head, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Curly Shepard,” suddenly she’s in front of him, her twinkly dark eyes staring into his own blue ones, “you listen to me now, and you listen good. You do not ruin everything. Some things, yes. You are not always a good boy. But I have yet to hear of an instance where Ponyboy Curtis has not forgiven someone he cares about.”

Curly’s eyes widen, “how did you-”

“I hear much of the school gossip,” Miss D dismisses, waving a hand, “I work in the cafeteria. And you do not have many friends. It was not hard to guess.”

Geez. He really is pathetic when it comes to Ponyboy if even Miss D knows they’re buddies. No wonder Angel rags on him for it. 

“Now,” Miss D. continues, “did you apologize to him?”

“Yes! I said I was sorry.”

“That is not always the same thing.”

Curly thinks back to their argument, to the way Pony’s eyes had darkened, hurt and anger flashing across his face, thinks of the moment he realized he might lose him, of his own desperate pleas, of ‘please, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean it’, of ‘Pony c’mon’ of ‘I said I was sorry’. Maybe Miss D is right. Maybe he didn’t mean it, not like he should have. He said it because he regretted it yes, but he said it for himself, because he was afraid to lose Pony, not because Pony deserved to hear it.

“Here,” Miss D hands him a plate of fries, “youve got ten minutes to eat these before your next class, and you’d better not be late.”

“Thanks Miss D.” He doesn’t just mean for the food. Evidently she understands because she gives him a small, warm smile and ruffles his hair before getting back to work. 

Curly eats his fries and goes to class.

Geography is a bullshit course at the best of times, but at least it gives Curly time to think. The thing is, he’s not sure he’s ever properly apologized for anything in his life. He’s not really sure how to do it. For one thing, he’s rarely sorry for anything he does. For another, remorse in the Shepard house consists of stealing each other stuff until forgiveness is granted with a pat on the back or the ruffling of hair. They don’t really do the whole ‘talking things out’ thing. But the Curtis’ do. Ponyboy does. So Curly figures he better figure it out, and quick.

He scrawls some stuff down while the teacher drones on about continents and whatnot, but nothing sees good enough and after his fourth attempt he gives up and starts entertaining himself by pinning the braid of the soc girl in front of him to his desk with his switchblade. She squeals like a piglet and gets yanked back into her seat when she tries to stand up and Curly laughs so hard he almost forgets his knife when he beats it outta there. The girl’s preppy looking soc boyfriend tries to chase him but Curly’s gone before the guy even makes it to the door, melting easily into the crowd in the hallway. 

He skips chemistry in favour of dicking around and smoking with some of the guys he knows from the drag race scene, since Mrs. Costen still hasn’t really forgiven him for pulling the chemical shower last week. The hour passes far too quickly and suddenly he’s in the changeroom, getting ready for PE, and focusing very hard on not sneaking glances at where Pony is lounging about shirtless and chatting with one of the guys from the track team.

Curly kind of wants to throw something. It has absolutely nothing to do with the way Ponyboy’s bare shoulders look or the way he tilts his head when he laughs.

Jesus, it’s goddamn indecent. He should put a shirt on.

Curly changes quickly and leaves before he does or says something else he’ll regret. If he sneaks one more look as he goes at the way Ponyboy’s back muscles flex as he pulls a t-shirt over his head, well, thats no ones business but his own.

Mr.Harris, the gym teacher, is smart for all he is the most annoying fucking teacher Curly has ever had the misfortune of having- and that includes the bitch back in fifth grade who tried to tape his hands to the desk after he put a frog down Carmen Sanchez’ shirt during reading time.

However, Mr.Harris is also apparently going to be his saving grace today, because after he reminds them that they’re doing their wrestling unit (which is dumb, because ground fighting ends a lot easier when you can punch, kick, and aim for the balls) he very carefully goes through the class and paires up people who are unlikedly to actually take it too seriously- that is to say, socs get paired with other socs, and greasers get paired with other greasers.

“Curtis,” Mr.Harris says, “you’re with Shepard. Make sure to show him what we went over since Monday, I don’t have time to reteach those who think chronic absences are some sort of joke.”

“Actually sir-” Pony starts to protest, but Harris moves on, completely ignoring him. Which, hey, no one- especially not judgy old Mr. Harris- gets to ignore his Ponybabe, which Curly would be more than willing to tell him if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure Pony was about to ask him to switch partners. 

“Ponyboy-”

“Don’t.”

“Pony-”

The next thing Curly knows he’s flat on his back on the mat, the wind knocked out of him, and Pony is on top of him, twisting him into a pretzel and not in a fun way.

“That’s called a double leg takedown.” Pony says, breath hot on Curly’s cheek, his eyes hard as emeralds and Curly has never been so simultaneously confused and remorseful and turned on in his life.

They get to their feet. 

“Pony please-” Curly tries, and he’s back on the mat again. Shit he can’t be doing this, rough housing with Pony does things to him, always has, even if Pony’s being more rough than playful. Scratch that maybe especially then.

He should not be thinking about this right now. He’s supposed to be apologizing.

“That’s a single leg takedown.”

Pony’s breath ghosts over hi ear and he shivers.

They set up again. This time Curly is ready, if not prepared. Pony lunges in, and Curly grabs for him but not before Pony sidesteps and throws him down sideways, hastily pinning him before Curly can sit up.

“That’s a hip toss.”

“Jesus,” Curly wheezes, “I get it, you can thow me around with your fancy wrestlin’ moves. You gonna talk to me yet?”

Ponyboy responds by tackling him again.

Fine. So that’s how it’s gonna be. Pony tosses him twice more, once with what Curly is calling a lucky hit and once with some move called a fireman carry that might be the hottest thing Curly’s ever seen. The next time, Curly manages to grab Pony’s leg and hold on tight, driving into him with his shoulder until Pony trips back and they crash together onto the mat, rolling until Curly’s half sitting on top of him, holding Pony’s wrists so he can’t shove him off.

“Please will you just talk to me?”

Pony glares and then turns his head away pointedly ignoring him.

“Please,” Shepards don’t beg but Curly’s begging now, “please, just hear me out. I’m real sorry, I swear it. I owe you a proper apology, I know it. Just give me a chance.”

Green eyes meet blue, softening just a bit, and Curly thanks his unlucky stars that Ponyboy Curtis is ten times the man he will ever be.

“Fine. After class.”

Curly doesn’t care that he gets tackled for the rest of class. It feels like he’s winning anyway.

The bell rings and Curly follows Ponyboy to the changeroom, sneaks a glance at the guy’s collarbone, and prepares himself for the most important conversation of his life.

“Well?” Pony says, once they’ve both lit a cigarette, his free hand shoved deep in the pocket on his blue jeans.

“I”m sorry,” Curly starts,taking a deep drag and looking anywhere but at him, “I didn’t mean what I said but I still shouldna said it in the first place. It was shitty an’ it was meant to hurt you and I swear if you’ll give me another chance I’ll never try and hurt you again. I mean it. I can’t promise I won’t hurt you by accident but I’ll never do it on purpose.”

Pony considers him, head tilted like it does whenever he thinks really hard or laughs without thinking. He’s not laughing now though, but his eyes aren’t as murderous as earlier so Curly thinks that’s probably a good sign.

“That it?”

“No,” Curly swallows. He knows how badly this next part could go, how much Pony had cared about Johnny Cade, how bringing him up is still the surest way to get him all riled up, “I, uh, I never told you I’m sorry about what happened to Cade, but I am. He and I never got along but I know he was your best friend and I’ve been thinkin’ about it since yesterday and if I ever lost my best friend,” he gives Pony a significant look and Pony rolls his eyes, “I don’t think I could stand it. I swear i’ll never say anything like what I said again.”

“That’s right you won’t.” Pony says, and there’s a dark promise in those words, “I appreciate you sayin’ what you said just now, but you don’t get to talk about him. Never again, savvy? You hated him and he hated you. I know it, Soda knows it, hell, everyone does. So you keep his name out of your mouth, alright? I don’t want you in my memories of him, even if you’re gonna be nice about it from now on”

“I savvy.” Curly agrees. It’s true he and Cade couldn’t ever stand each other. Still, they’d both cared for Ponyboy, so Curly will keep his name out of his mouth, for Pony’s sake. “Promise.”

Pony nods and his shoulders relax just a bit. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“So…we’re cool?”

At that Pony laughs outright, and Curly feels the weight that’s been sitting on his chest since yesterday finally lift. His Ponyboy is back. 

“Yeah,” Ponyboy’s smile is soft, “we’re cool. Now let’s get some food. I’m starvin’ and you owe me a milkshake.”

Curly grins and follows him, not caring where they’re going. As long as he’s with Ponyboy he’s exactly where he wants to be.

[lilgarbitch]

Can you write something about reader Noah walking back to his place, maybe on the way home from picking up more alcohol for a party the guys are having and reader comes up next to him, loops her arm through his and asks him to act like he knows her. He agrees after he looks back and see a guy following her. She explains that he won't leave her alone and she has been walking in circles trying to get him to go away. Noah immediately agrees and ends up taking her back to his place. Can do with this what you please ❤️❤️

Highly appreciate the request, especially how much info you gave me❤️ It’s short and simple, mainly just working out what you said, but definitely a story I could build off of in the future!

A groan escapes my lips as I shove my phone back into my pocket. Ruffilo sent me a text telling me to pick up a specific mixer for a drink he wanted to see if he could make since I was running to the store. But I already asked them what they needed before I left, and I was already halfway back to the house.

I paused for a moment, internally debating if I wanted to be the nice friend and go back, or tell him to suck it. I mean, it was only a 15 minute walk between the liquor store and our house, so it wouldn’t be a bother, but a mixer? Nah, fuck it. He can try it another day.

I start back up on my stroll, just taking in the view of the night as I swung the bag in my hand. The lampposts lit the street perfectly, and it was just warm enough that I could talk out here without a jacket. But what was that noise? It was like..a bouncing? Some repetitive noise? I couldn’t even tell which direction it was coming from, but it was getting closer.

Then, it stopped and turned into heavy breathing and softer footsteps behind me. I glance back, wondering what kind of danger I got myself into, but I just see a girl. She kept checking her phone and looking behind her as she walked. After seeing something as she glanced behind her, she instantly turned towards me, like she was about to run again, but she stood there stunned once her eyes landed on me. Looking me up and down, she picked up her pace, closing the distance between us.

She locked her arm into mine and stared straight forward. I gave her an odd look, but she didn’t look up at me, even when speaking.

“Please pretend like you know me,” She spoke in a hushed voice, not wanting her words to echo off the buildings around us, “That guy has been following me for the past 20 minutes and I swear he picks up speed every time I do.”

I sneak a glance back, and see a large older man trudging his way down the street, looking like he was searching for something. My grasp on her arm instinctively tightens, feeling the malicious aura he gave off as he searched. For her.

“I got you. We’re almost at my place. You can come inside until he leaves.” I whisper out. She nods, still not looking at me, almost as if too much movement would trigger the man stalking us.

I finally see the house and pull her in front of me, wanting to shield her from him just in case. With my hands on her shoulders, I discreetly pointed towards the house, signaling how much further we had to go. She just responded with a nod as we both picked up our pace.

“HEY! YOU! GET OVER HERE!” The man shouts from behind us, causing us both to jump. I glance back and see him moving towards us much faster now, so I grab her arm and pull her faster towards the house.

I pull us past the house and into our backyard, since the back door was always unlocked if any of us wanted to smoke, and I couldn’t take the chances of the mere seconds it would take to pull out my keys and unlock the front door.

We finally reach the back door and I open it and push her inside, quickly following lead, before slamming the door behind me and locking it. I lean my back against the door, both to catch my breath and feeling like I was the only other barricade I could use in case he tried getting in.

Footsteps came tumbling towards us, before the three boys stop and look at us confused.

“I asked for mixer, not a girl,” Ruffilo mumbled out, before getting smacked by Jolly.

“What’s going on? Who’s this?” Jolly asked, stepping closer.

“Guy. Followed her. Had to get her somewhere safe,” I answered, pointing towards the door I was leaning against. My heart was still racing and my brain was scattered as I relived the last few minutes.

“Uh..I’m Y/N.. I’m sorry to intrude. Some freak was following me for the past 20 minutes and I had to ask him for help..” She answered, sounding a lot less freaked out than I was. The boys took a moment, looking between us and the door, terrified.

“Oh. Uh.. No, you’re not intruding. Come in. Stay as long as you need. Do you need us to call someone? 911?” Jolly rushed out once all the thoughts settled in his head.

“No, it’s okay. But if I could borrow a charger, that’d be nice,” She answered, holding up her dead phone. Nick took off into the house, searching for a charger for her.

“Um. I’m Joakim, but you can just call me Jolly, and that was Nick,” He pointed back to wherever Nick took off, “This is Nicholas, but you can call him Ruffilo so you don’t get confused.”

She nodded and gave a weary smile to them, before turning to me.

“Oh, fuck. I’m Noah. Sorry,” I scrambled out, making her laugh a little.

“Nice to meet you all, despite the circumstances.” Jolly gave her a smile.

“Come on. Let me get you a drink and get both of you, or mainly Noah, calmed down,” He said as he walked into the house. She followed, so I did as well.

Once we reached the living room, I set down the bag I had been carrying and fell onto the couch. I’ve never been so tense in my life. Nick came back, holding a charger and plugged it in, before holding his hand out for her phone. She handed it to him, so he plugged it in and set it down before joining us all.

It took her a minute to feel at ease, being surrounded by 4 unknown men, but eventually we all started getting a good conversation going. She soon got comfortable and it seemed like she completely forgot the events of the night as she joined in on our little ‘party’ (just us four guys drinking and being idiots). The night went on and it was almost as if she had been a part of the group the whole time.

[redbullgivesyouwingedkuriboh]

hi. if you’re reading this that means it’s my 21st birthday. I had this idea and had to write it down immediately (it’s may 29th. see y’all in just under 6 months) so. yeah. enjoy. happy 21st birthday to me!

The GX Cast In: What they would order for their first legal drink at a bar

DISCLAIMER: blair is excluded from this one cause I can’t fathom her being an adult rn. all characters are considered to be of legal drinking age for the purposes of this post. I do not condone underage drinking. drink responsibly and always call for help if you or a friend are displaying symptoms of alcohol poisoning.

Jaden Yuki: I have determined that Jaden doesn’t like whiskey, but if it’s mixed in something he might be okay with it. a rum and coke would be his go-to. on the rocks, he can’t drink warm liquor.

Chazz Princeton: straight vodka. i have a working theory that the more trauma someone has the better they take shots. (this is not a healthy theory, to be sure, but Chazz certainly qualifies as an observable subject.) he will spit out any food that contains the tiniest amount of carrot but pounds vodka like a champ. he’s definitely tried to do the whole lime and salt thing but found he prefers the burn. I just want him to be okay :(

Dr. Crowler: wayyyyyy back in the day, a very hot, very gay bartender gave him a shot of raspberry schnapps on the house because he “looks like a raspberry schnapps kinda guy”. keeps a bottle of it in his office for feeling nostalgic. atticus has gotten into it more than once, with zero evidence left behind.

Syrus Truesdale: the fruitiest goddamn cocktail you’ve ever seen. there’s a bendy straw and a paper umbrella. probably served out of a pineapple. he does not want to so much as SENSE the alcohol

Alexis Rhodes: whiskey sour. asks for the lemon on the side and squeezes the juice directly into her mouth.

Atticus Rhodes: margaritas, plural. unironically sings “gimme one margarita ima open my legs” the entire time and has to be physically restrained in order to stop him.

Zane Truesdale: he can’t drink, he has a heart condition. however: him and atticus buy cheap wine from the liquor store on oct 31 and sit somewhere outside as the clock ticks over to midnight, making the switch from atticus’s birthday to zane’s. they toast. life is good. zane has palpatations immediately and never drinks again.

Aster Phoenix: wine aunt energy. exclusively drinks wine, but alternates between white and red. his palate changes depending on what he ate. for his twenty first birthday, he probably had steak (s2 fishing incident had me rolling on the ground laughing), which pairs well with cabernet (I think that’s a red) so he’d get red wine.

Yubel: technically has always been legal drinking age? regardless, the strongest whiskey you can find. Jaden dislikes whiskey, though, so has only ever gotten him to take one shot of it. collects the little shooter bottles. it’s really cute to see them all lined up.

Jesse Anderson: fruity cocktail for a fruity bitch. he’d order a sex on the beach, but it would go something like, “I’d like a, ah… ha, alrighty then. A s-sex on the… you know what I mean!”, followed up by Chazz saying, “oh my god he’d like a sex on the beach. jesus.”

Jim Crocodile Cook: not much of a drinker, but he’d also love the fruity cocktails. he would order a strawberry daiquiri. frozen. he’d also do a shot for the hell of it, probably of cheap vodka, and spend the rest of the evening wondering how everyone else is handling that stuff so well.

Axel Brodie: straight fucking gin. no additives, no garnish, no nothing. just axel and a shot glass. somehow never shows signs of being tipsy.

Adrian Gecko: beer. he thinks it makes him look relatable. unironically a beer drinker. probably PBA.

Bastion Misawa: he orders a shot of “your finest whiskey, barkeep”. sniffs it first. takes a little sip. “oh, goodness. no thank you.”

[messedupfan]

Chapter 11

Summary: Reader finally feels comfortable enough to introduce their girlfriend to their faimly.

A/n: There's a LOT going on right now so it might not be my best work but I hope y'all enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist

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When October came around you surprised yourself by maintaining a healthy and stable relationship with Daisy. There weren’t many arguments and you were able to focus your romantic energy solely on her and you found yourself happy with the decision to be with her. So, you figured that it was finally time to introduce her to Rachel. In order to do that, of course, you had to start by bringing her to Jean and Anna. 

Arranging a dinner wasn’t easy with the busy work schedules and inability to find Rachel a sitter. With school being in session, Kate isn’t available the way she is during the summer since she has a lot to focus on when it comes to her college classes. Leaving it up to you and Jean to scramble to find someone to be with Rachel long enough for the dinner. Until one day when you’re discussing the dilemma with Wanda, she offers to have your daughter over for the night. She made it easy by offering to pick up Rachel from the school when she was picking up the twins. She happened to be getting them on Friday that week because Vision was spending a weekend in New York with one of his classes to observe the architecture in person. After a quick phone call with the school to inform them of this and writing Rachel a note to give to her teacher, it was settled. 

Daisy is taking her classes online and caught up on all of her coursework, and Jean and Anna are both able to be home from work at an appropriate dinner time. As soon as you get home from work that day, you shower and get dressed before picking Daisy up. On the way to Jean’s house, you stop at the liquor store to bring a gift and say that it came from Daisy. As you walk the aisles hand in hand with her, you think about when you first met Wanda. And how even through her disheveled appearance, you were struck by her beauty. 

Your mind is brought back to reality when Daisy sneaks a kiss on your cheek. You smile and your eyes land on the beverage that you came here for. When the familiar cashier is checking you out, he asks if you want the usual pack of cigarettes. You look at Daisy and then look at the cashier and shake your head. “I don’t smoke,” luckily he catches on and apologizes for confusing you for someone else. Claiming that he’s been meaning to get new lenses. You tell him it’s no worry and you walk out with Daisy, confused by the interaction. 

“Babe, I know that you smoke,” Daisy says. “You don’t have to lie about it. I smell it every time we sleep together.” 

You frown and sigh, “I’m sorry, I was supposed to quit years ago. But I haven’t been able to kick the habit just yet.” 

“Well, maybe I can help you with that,” Daisy offers as she stops you in front of the car. She slips her arms between yours and carefully laces her fingers through your fingers without dropping the bag. “The idea of smoking used to be kind of hot but you know what's hotter?” You hum in question as you smile down at her. “Living a long healthy life,” she beams up at you. 

“Oh really? That's what's hot these days?” You ask with a light laugh. 

“Oh yeah, baby,” she leans in and kisses you on the lips. The two of you break away and you nod as you look at her. 

“Okay, I'll do it this time. I'll quit,” you promise. She kisses you one more time before completely separating. 

When the two of you arrive at Jean's house you make sure to coach Daisy all the way from the car to the front door. She listens intently to every tip you give and tries to memorize each of them. She wants this to go well almost as much if not more than you do. 

Wanda is making dinner for the four of them when Rachel walks in and asks to help. “Are you sure you don't want to play with the boys?” She asks as she carefully chops some vegetables. 

“They just want to play video games and my mom Anna says that too much screen time rots the brain. I thought she was wrong but my brain feels rotten right now,” Rachel says as she observes Wanda. 

“Well, I could use some help with the sauce. If you're up to stirring it,” Wanda offers as she thinks of an easy task to give the girl. Rachel happily walks over to the stove to stir the pot but she isn't quite tall enough. “Sorry sweetie,” Wanda apologizes as she steps away from the cutting board to grab one of the stools that the boys use when they help her in the kitchen. “Better?” She asks and once Rachel is standing on the stool she grabs the spoon and then nods to answer Wanda. ���Good, now please be careful. The sauce, the pot, and the stove are very hot and I would hate for you to get hurt. Okay?” 

“Yes ma'am,” Rachel says as she keeps her eyes on the sauce. Wanda washes her hands before she resumes chopping the vegetables for the salad. As she does, she prays that nothing bad happens to your little girl. 

“I must admit, the two of you are cute together,” Jean says as she cuts into the salmon on her plate. “Can I ask, why did you go for Y/n? I mean you're so young and they, well, let's be real. They come with a lot of baggage.” 

“Jean,” you say sternly.

“No, it's okay,” Daisy says as she chews her food. She takes a few extra seconds before swallowing in order to find an answer that won't sound like she was just trying to live an old fantasy of hers and ended up wanting more out of it. “I know that I'm young, but as I understand it you weren't much older than me when you found your current wife and married her shortly after.” You clear your throat to hide your amusement as Jean kicks you under the table. “As for all that I'm signing up for with Y/n,” she reaches for your hand and smiles at you as you accept her touch. You smile back. “Well, just because I'm young doesn't mean that I don't come with my own baggage. I have plenty of my own things that others might be put off by. But Y/n doesn't see those things as a reason to not be with me. And I don't see your daughter or the fact that they smoke and can't seem to stop as a reason to not be with them.” Your smile drops at the last part. You know that she was only trying to impress them by showing that she knows you but of all of the examples, you can't believe that she used that one. 

“I fucking knew it!” Jean shouts. “I knew you started again!” 

You close your eyes and shake your head as you let go of Daisy's hand to rub your face. “Jean-”

“No, don't Jean me,” Jean interrupts. “You've been calling me crazy for years! I can't believe it. Even Anna, my own wife, would take your side!” 

“I'm sorry, I know. It's just been a hard habit to kick. I mean, you had a legitimate reason to quit when you got pregnant with Rach. I just, I just, I haven't had a push like that.” You try to defend yourself. 

“Oh no, did I say something I… I'm so sorry, Y/n. I knew I shouldn't have -” 

“No! See, this is good. We can finally get the truth,” Jean says. 

“Honey, please calm down. Why does it upset you so much that Y/n chooses to do this damage to their own body?” Anna asks as she starts to rub her partners back. 

Jean tries her best to take slow breaths. “It upsets me because Y/n is Rachel's Baba. My uncle was a big smoker and it nearly killed my cousin to lose him to lung cancer and I don't want that for my daughter. And no matter what they are to me, ex-partner, co-parent, friend, I do still care what happens to them.” She looks at you and you cast your eyes down to your plate, knowing that loss was hard for Jean as well. She loved her uncle. And you thought he was pretty great too. In fact, he's the one who bought your first pack of cigarettes when you and Jean were fifteen after he realized where his cigarettes were disappearing once he caught the two of you and her cousin in his backyard. 

He didn't really have a philosophy on children's health and his daughter was a product of that and partially, so were you. He didn't really bust you guys. Instead, he walked away grumbling about something under his breath and left the house. He came back a few minutes later with a few packs of cigarettes and handed one out to each of you. “Don't take mine ever again. You want smokes, ask,” he had said in a raspy voice before walking away. “And stay away from my beers. Y'all are too young, it'll rot ya brains.” The way that he could barely talk without gasping for air or barely walk without coughing up a storm should have been enough to scare you away from the nicotine. But instead, you happily opened that pack and from there started a habit you'd rather hide in shame than quit.

“I'm sorry, I know I should have stopped. And I shouldn't have lied to you as much as I have. I just,” you look at her and remember the broken girl at the funeral and sigh. “There's no excuse. I'm going to quit this time. I promise,” you say as you lay your hand on the table to offer to Jean. 

She looks at your hand with a frown and a scowl before putting her hand in yours. “Okay, you better mean it this time.” 

“They do,” Daisy chimes in. “I told them that I'd help them quit.” Jean gives Daisy a tight smile because she doesn't want to like this girl for you, but it's getting harder and harder not to. 

Wanda is smiling at her phone as she receives a flirty message that was actually cute and not completely sleazy. She starts to type a response when she hears Billy wail in the living room. “Mom! Tommy hit me!” 

“Stop being such a girl, you tattle tale!” Tommy shouts next. 

“Boys!” Wanda yells as she hurries down the stairs. “What happened?” Wanda says with her hands on her hips. Both boys start to tell very different stories. “Ah ah, one at a time. Billy, you go first.” 

“I was trying to pick something that we could all watch when Tommy took the remote from me and-”

“That's not true! I asked first! Mom, he's lying!” Tommy interrupts. 

Then the boys start shouting at the same time and Wanda has to raise her voice again to get them to stop. “Time out, both of you. Go stand in separate corners.” Wanda shoos them away. Rachel comes out of the restroom, confused to see the boys standing in corners of the living room. Wanda sighs as she looks at the little girl. In her frustration with the boys, she completely forgot that Rachel was here. She didn't want to embarrass the boys in front of their friend. She has the girl sit on the sofa to pick something on the TV and steps a few feet back.“Boys come here,” she calls them to her and gets them to look up at her. “Please behave and let Rachel pick something. She is our guest and guests get to pick the movie. Okay?” 

“Yes ma'am,” the boys say together with frowns. Billy still has fresh tears on his cheeks and Wanda wipes them away before giving her boy a kiss on the forehead. 

“We'll talk about this later, okay?” He nods and moves to the couch and she pulls Tommy back to her by the collar on his shirt, making him laugh as she gives him a surprise hug. “You be nicer to your brother, please,” she says as she tickles him. Tommy agrees through his laughter. 

The group of you have moved your way to the living room each with a beverage in hand, you opted for water since you still have to drive Daisy home and pick up Rachel after. Jean apologizes for the dramatic moment she had and Daisy waves it off. “Oh don't worry, being concerned for Y/n’s health is anything but dramatic. What I consider a dramatic moment was what happened when we had dinner with my father a few weeks ago.” Daisy laughs at the memory and you cringe at the reminder. “We shared the most innocent Disney channel kind of kiss and my father went on and on about showing respect in his house. I mean, this guy was fifty shades of red every time we held each other's hand or touched shoulders for crying out loud!” Everyone laughs with her. 

“I don't blame him,” Jean takes a drink from her wine. “Ugh, I dread the day I find out what kind of parent I am when Rach starts dating. My fingers are crossed tight every day that she's gay.” 

You laugh and shake your head and admit, “Mine are too. A lesbian to specify.” You and Jean clink your glasses together. “To the traumas of teen pregnancy!” You say it as the toast which makes her laugh. 

“I really admire the two of you for being so close after a divorce,” Daisy says as she observes the two of you. 

“Trust me, it gets old,” Anna jokes, making Jean roll her eyes. “I'm kidding. It is nice to see, especially with Y/n's parents being such nightmares you'd think they’d - oh I've made a faux pas, haven't I?” Anna mouths the word sorry to you and you shake your head in a manner that lets her know that it's fine.

“I guess we haven't gotten to the talk about your family past Kate,” Daisy says awkwardly. 

You shrug, as you make eye contact with Daisy. “I don't like to talk about it much. Anna only knows because Jean was, as you know, my childhood best friend and she was there for me through it all.” You look at your cup and swirl the water and watch the melting ice cubes knock into each other. But yeah, I had a couple of very clear examples of what not to do when it came to the family I would one day build. My parents aren't terrible people, just flawed as everyone is. I'm closer with my mom because after she had Kate she didn't treat me less than her. My dad however, preferred my step siblings over me. He never said it, but I could feel it. The only big thing he ever did for me was pitch in to get this house when Jean and I got married because he knew how hard it is to provide for a family when you're young.” 

Daisy takes a moment to digest the information before scooting closer to you on the couch to wrap her arm around you and lean her head on your shoulder. You kiss the top of her head and Jean smiles softly as she feels better about this pairing. She still doesn't think that Daisy is your forever person. But she's happy that someone is making you happy for now. 

Looking at the time you have to call it a night since it was pretty late and you still had to pick up Rachel from Wanda’s house. As you and Daisy are saying your goodbyes, Jean asks to talk to you alone for a moment and Daisy kisses your cheek as she tells you that she'll wait in the car. “I think she's great and if you're ready, I think you should introduce her to Rachel. I mean, the girl is considering transferring to a lesser college to be closer to you. I think she is really committed to you and even to Rachel.” 

“Thank you,” you scoop Jean into a tight hug. You put her down and she tells you goodnight and tells Anna that she's going to get ready for bed. You are about to bid Anna a goodnight as well when she stops you. 

“Let me start with, I know this isn't my place to tell you this and Daisy is a sweet girl and the two of you make a cute couple. But she isn't for you, Y/n. Your aura's don't compliment each other. There's this energy around you, like you're forcing two pieces of a puzzle that don't fit together. I'm not going to stop you from introducing her to our daughter, but please consider it a bit longer before you do because… Jean is too polite to say this, but what you and Daisy have it isn't meant to be.” She rushes out softly before you're able to get a word in. You aren't ever rude to Anna and her beliefs but you never thought she'd ever say something like this to you. Especially when you're the happiest that you've been in years. 

“You're right, it's not your place. Goodnight,” you reply tersely before walking to the car. You take a few breaths to calm down before you climb into the car. 

“I think that went well,” Daisy says happily and you don't have it in you to repeat what Anna said although you feel like you should. 

“Yeah, it did. Jean agreed to introducing you to Rachel and I don't think we should wait two weeks. I think we should do it tomorrow. What do you think?” You take Daisy's hand in yours and kiss her knuckles. 

Her eyes light up and tears rise to the brims, “Really? I, yes! I'd love to!” You kiss her lips before starting the car and drive to her apartment to drop her off. 

The drive to Wanda’s house has you fuming as you can't believe what Anna said. You were not trying to force two puzzle pieces together. Maybe at the beginning but things have been easier lately. She can't have known that from one meal no matter how spiritually enlightened she is. You cool off by the time you arrive at Wanda's because you know that Rachel will pick up on it and you don't want to snap at her. 

“They all fell asleep,” Wanda whispers as she opens the door before your first could knock on it. “I saw your lights through the window,” she explains to your confused expression and you make a new one to show that you understand. “How'd it go?” She asks as she closes her cardigan around herself. 

“Um, good for the most part. Ended kind of weird, but I'll tell you about it later. I just need to get Rach home,” you whisper as you tiptoe into the house. 

“Of course,” Wanda says as she carefully closes the door. “Um, can you do me a favor first,” she asks as she looks at the boys sleeping in odd positions on the couch. You look at them and let out a small laugh through your nose as you remember being able to sleep like that without having intense pain for several days after. “Can you help me carry them to their room?” She asks with a pleading smile. You nod and she thanks you quietly as she moves to pick up Billy. You gently lift Tommy into your arms and follow Wanda up the stairs. You carefully tuck Tommy into his bed and watch Wanda tuck Billy into his. She is such a great mom. You feel blessed every time you're able to witness moments like these. She doesn't leave the room without giving them each a kiss on the head. 

“Thank you for watching Rachel, I really appreciate it,” you say as the two of you walk downstairs. “I really owe you one.” 

“Please,” Wanda waves her hand in dismissal, “consider us even. Vision never helped me put the boys to bed like that. So thank you.” She gives you a warm hug when the both of you are standing at the bottom of the stairs. You take in the warmth that the embrace spreads through your body before separating. 

“It was my pleasure,” you smile at her. Wanda smiles back at you and looks at you the way that almost gets you in trouble every time. What you don't see is Rachel being awake enough to witness the scene. She smiles as she lays back down and closes her eyes to pretend that she was asleep the whole time. 

The next day, you are running around like a maniac trying to get ready and cook breakfast for Rachel. Daisy is going to come by and introduce herself as your girlfriend. You almost couldn't believe that you're doing this. There was a time when you couldn't see this kind of thing ever happening. You are proud of where you are now. When Rachel wakes up because of all of the ruckus you have been causing you tell her to get some nice clothes on. “Why? Mom’s aren’t going to get mad at you if I’m in my pajamas all day. Besides, we'll probably lounge around in our pajamas after you drop me off.” 

“Please, Rach,” you say as you adjust your attire in the mirror. “I have a uh, special friend coming over and I want you to look nice. I kind of have some big news but I want to tell you when she gets here.” 

Rachel perks up at the mention of a female special friend. She has watched enough romantic comedies over the years that she knows a romantic moment when she sees one. Last night, she definitely saw one. “She?” Rachel questions in hopes for more information from you. 

You laugh and drop your head to smile at the floor for a second then look back at her. “Yes, she is a she. You've even met her before.” This extra bit of information gets her excited. She knew it! You had to have invited Ms. Wanda and the twins over. She was finally getting the big brothers that she always wanted. “Please, go get dressed. She's going to be here any second.” Rachel skips off to her room and you go back to the kitchen to take things off of the stove before they burn. You set the table and once everything is as perfect as you can get it. Daisy is knocking on the door. “Hey you, come on in,” you greet her with an innocent kiss on the lips.

Rachel hears you from her room and quickly finishes strapping on her white dress shoes. She threw on a pretty pink dress with a white headband. When she hears you call for her, she finishes brushing her hair and hops out of the room excitedly. However, her smile drops when she sees the hardly familiar woman. 

Daisy gives you a nervous smile and you do your best to be encouraging but you haven't seen your daughter so disappointed. This was nowhere near the reaction you expected. “Hi Rachel, I have heard a lot about you. I'm Daisy, I'm not sure if you remember this but I used to babysit you.” 

Rachel looks at you with a confused face, “Baba, why did you make me get dressed if you're going to leave me with a babysitter?” 

Daisy's smile drops as she looks at you, feeling a little helpless. “Maybe this was too early, I think we should have stuck to our previous plans.” 

You shake your head and whisper, “No, no, this will be okay.” You look at Rachel with a smile, “I'm not leaving you with Daisy, honey. She is the special friend I wanted to introduce you to.” You hold Daisy's hand to show Rachel that you mean it. Unfortunately, she still doesn’t appear to be too happy about it. “Um, I made breakfast,” you say to fill the silence. Daisy nods as she looks between you and Rachel as her worst fears come true. “Let's eat before it gets cold.” You wave to the set table and guide Daisy over. Rachel is still standing in the same spot until you call her over again. 

She sits down with a pout and when you serve her, she pushes her plate away. “I'm not hungry,” she crosses her arms over her chest. You frown, you were there for her introduction to Anna and she had reacted in a similar fashion but back then she just wanted her parents back together. When it was made clear that wasn't happening, she quickly began to warm up to Anna. Now, however, you haven't the slightest idea why she had such a sudden switch flip. She seemed excited seconds before you answered the door. 

“You know, sometimes my tummy feels funny in the mornings too. But I always find that I feel much better after a good meal like your Baba prepared,” Daisy tries to relate in hopes that it will get the girl to like her at least a little bit. Unfortunately she is only met with a glare.

“My tummy is fine,” Rachel retorts, “I'm just not hungry.” Her stomach growls, contradicting her statement. You make a knowing face and try to lighten her mood. 

“Sounds like your tummy could use the food, sweetie,” you try to push the plate closer to her but she just turns her head away. You sigh and quietly apologize to Daisy. You really thought this would be easier. 

“Your Baba has told me a lot about you, Rach like-” Daisy is cut off by your daughter. 

“Only I can call them Baba! Stop calling them that. And only people I like can use my nickname, I don't like you,” Rachel snaps, taking your patience. 

“Rachel Hope Y/l/n, you apologize right now young lady,” normally when you scold her with the full government name she turns into a puddle of tears and apologies but right now, she isn't. “Apologize or go to your room,” you threaten with a stern tone. 

“No,” she says while making eye contact with you, unafraid. It only upsets you further that you lack authority over her. It's one thing to be happening now, but what happens when she's older and getting into trouble? A montage of her getting in trouble with the law and having no future, flashes before your eyes and you know that you have to correct this behavior soon before she gets out of hand. 

“Room, now!” You point to her room and she stands up without a fight. 

Then as she stomps her way to her room she says the three words you never ever thought you'd ever hear from her. “I hate you!” She dramatically slams her door as your heart drops to your stomach. Both you and Daisy collapse in on yourselves. 

“I'm so sorry, Daze. I had no idea that she'd be this upset,” you apologize as you hold her hand in yours. 

Daisy sighs, “Maybe if she was eased into the idea a little, like we planned? I don't know. I tried not to build expectations but ugh, I really wanted her to like me.” Daisy starts to cry at the end of her sentence and she keeps you away when you try to hug her. “No, you don't need to be comforting me right now. I should go,” you try to tell her to stay as she gets up but she doesn't. “Just take care of her, okay? She needs you more than I do. I'll call you later, okay?” 

You nod and kiss her goodbye before shutting the door. You look at Rachel's door and you're not ready to be patient with her yet. So you dump the breakfast that you spent all morning working on and wash the dishes. The alarm on your phone, reminding you that you have to get Rachel off to her mom's soon goes off. You had set it because you thought the three of you were going to be having so much fun and losing track of time. It hurts you because that's not what happened. 

You knock on Rachel's door, “Rach, we have to get going.” 

“I'm not coming out unless she is gone!” Rachel shouts through the door.

You sigh, “She left an hour ago. Come on, we have to go.” Rachel opens the door and is still glaring at you. “Are you ready to go?” You ask tiredly. She walks past you, bumping you with her school bag, as an answer. The car ride is long. You try to get her to talk but instead of talking she just makes loud noises that irritate you into silence. As you're slowing down to park, Rachel runs out of the car the second she gets to. You try to chase her but her moms open the door before you can and she's running to her room yelling that she hates you as she does and slamming her door there too. 

“What did you do?” Jean asks with wide eyes. 

“I introduced her to Daisy and she turned into this. I don't know what happened,” you reiterate the events to them helplessly and the two women share a look before Jean tries to bring Rachel to you to apologize and chat. But all you hear is mean words from Rachel and eventually, Jean giving up. 

“That is not our angel in there,” Jean says as she returns. “I think maybe you should go. We'll take it from here and maybe we can get somewhere with her.” 

You nod, “Yeah okay. I'm sorry, I didn't think this would happen.” 

Jean places her hand on your shoulder, “None of us could have seen this coming, sweetheart. But it has happened and we, as her parents, need to come up with a suitable punishment. This behavior is not okay and we need to figure out how to let her know that. I know we joke that she's just like me, but we don't need a repeat of that.”

“Are we sure punishment is the way to go here? I think that she is going through emotions that she doesn't know how to experience and maybe that's why she's acting out,” Anna says as she looks between you and Jean. “Let me try to talk to her. Don't go anywhere just yet.” She says to you as she heads to Rachel's room. You hear the door open, some muffled voices, then a loud crash, shouting, and the door shut before Anna returns with a red face. “Whatever she is going through is beyond our capabilities, I think we should start her on therapy again.” 

“What happened?” Jean asks as she puts her hand on her wife's back. 

“She threw her cup of markers at my head. She missed me, but I've never wanted to harm a kid more,” Anna admits. “I'm sorry, that was horrible to say,” she says with guilty eyes. 

You and Jean scoff at the same time, “No, I get it. When she started giving me attitude, I suddenly realized why I got so many spankings as a kid. My goodness, I was an actual nightmare.” This makes the three of you share a laugh. Then you take a calming breath and look at Jean. “We've really been spoiled with a good kid like Rachel, haven't we?” 

Jeans nods and her body deflates as well, “Yeah, we have. I guess it was only a matter of time before we got a blow up like this. She is our kid after all.” 

You agree and hug both her and Anna as you start to say your goodbyes. “I'll see you lovely ladies next weekend.” 

The week spent with Daisy is awkward. She remains upset about Rachel's reaction, especially since you had talked up how much your daughter was going to love her and the idea that you were finally having the love story that she has always wanted for you. Especially when she started to want siblings. Jean and Anna had already explained to her why it was different and a little more difficult for them to give her siblings. But all you could tell her was that you can't give her a sibling unless you fall in love with someone. So she started to try and help you find someone to fall in love with. For a long time, she wanted you to find someone and now that you have, you're confused why she isn't happy. 

One night when Daisy is spending the night, you are cooking in the kitchen and don't realize that Daisy didn't return from the bathroom until you've finished cooking the meal. You turn off the stove and cover the pans before you go looking for her. The apartment isn't big so it's not hard to find her and you get a little upset when you find her standing in Rachel's room holding the digital picture frame that your mom got for her. 

“Hey, I know you're hurt and confused but you cannot be in here,” you state calmly. It was a rule. Rachel's room has to be her safe space. If someone is not on Rachel's list, they are not allowed inside. 

“I know, I know,” Daisy says as she snaps out of her thoughts. “I'm sorry, it's just. I was passing by and her door was open and then I…” she starts to trail as her focus returns to the picture frame. You frown out of curiosity of what she is seeing. “Who is this woman? Why haven't you mentioned her?” She shows you the picture on the screen and it's a picture of you and Wanda smiling at each other. You look at the picture and sigh. It switches to the picture that Vision’s private investigator took and you wonder if Tommy and Billy sent it to Rachel from their dad's phone. You're curious how they even know about it. Was he looking at it often and they caught him? Did they overhear the conversation where he threatened you with it? You don't know. But you're very curious as to why her slide show was pictures of you with Wanda. 

“I have mentioned her, in fact you met her the night you slipped your number in my back pocket,” you say as you shake your head because another picture appears of you and Wanda cooking in her kitchen. “We're just friends. I think this is Rachel's way of messing with us.” You place the frame back where it belongs and sigh. “She watches a lot of those Beverly Dawson's Diaries Tree Hill Pretty Little Glee Gossip shows with my sister Kate. I'm starting to think it's not good for a smart girl like her.” 

Daisy follows you out of the room and you close the door behind you but she still seems upset by the pictures. “I'm not upset about the fact that your daughter chose those pictures for her frame. I'm upset that the two of you look like you're in love.” Daisy says and you stop in your tracks. 

“What?” You laugh, “That's crazy. We're just friends. I'm not in love with her.” 

“It was all over your face in those pictures,” she tries to point out but you can't see it anymore. Wanda knew that you felt a certain way about her and she never confessed feeling the same. So you finally let it go when you decided to introduce Daisy to Rachel. Now everything is a disaster. 

“Babe, I love you,” you state as you hold her hands. “Come on, are you really going to doubt me over a couple of pictures?” You try to get her to look at you but you can tell that she is probably spinning in her head. “She watched Rachel so that we could have dinner with my ex to talk about including you in the family. Why would either of us agree to that if we wanted to be together? I don't mean to be so blunt but honey, we’re not in a time where it's some forbidden love. If we wanted to be together, we could be.” 

“So it would have been easy for you to jump into a relationship with her? And I had to convince you to even try with me?” She looks at you with pain in her eyes and pulls her hands away from you. 

You shake your head, “That isn't fair. I've known you since you were younger. These days that could make me look like some sort of predator. Not to mention I was really good friends with your father. Part of my hesitation was out of respect to that man and I wasn't quite sure what would happen to that relationship once I started dating you. To be honest, it hasn't been good. He hates me now.” 

“He doesn't hate you,” she rolls her eyes, tired of hearing this thought from you. 

“He can't even look at me, Daisy. Did you know that I used to be able to call him up and ask him for advice or even just to talk? Any time of the day and even at night and he would always answer? Now he sends straight to voicemail. Doesn't even read a text.” 

“I am so sorry that I got between you and my precious father! Maybe you two should be together! Oh wait, can't forget about Wanda!” Daisy raises her voice as she moves around the apartment, collecting her things. 

“Daze, come on. I don't mean it like that. I'm happy to be with you, I'm just saying that it's different circumstances. Come on, can we please have dinner and not argue about this?” You try to get her to stay. “We've both had long days, and I won't speak for you but I'm a bit delirious, I hardly ate today. Can we please get some food in us before we both say things we don't mean?” 

Daisy looks you up and down with a tight expression before sighing and allowing her body to deflate. “Yeah, okay, yeah. I could eat,” you relax a little bit as she sets her things down and follows you to the kitchen. You serve the both of you and the two of you eat together in silence. “That was very good, thank you,” she says after clearing her plate. You smile at her as you continue to eat. Then she starts laughing, “I'm sorry, I don't know why I got so insecure. You make me feel nothing but secure in our relationship.”

You reach your hand out to hold hers, “It's okay.”

“No, it's not. I've been driving myself crazy since meeting Rachel as your girlfriend. I mean, we used to have so much fun when I was just her babysitter. But I guess I can see how this can't be an easy adjustment for her.” Daisy frowns as she plays with your fingers. “And seeing that Wanda slide show clearly didn't help. Clearly she is shipping the two of you.” 

You make a face, “Shipping? What's that mean?” 

Daisy laughs as she shakes her head looking at you and poking her tongue to her cheek. “You're so cute when you act like you live under a rock.” You make another face and she stops you from saying anything. “Shipping is when a person, for example Rachel, wants two people together and they support the idea of those two people or characters being together. Think, Everlark for those Hunger Games fans.” 

“Don't hate me, I still haven't gotten around to watching that stuff,” you confess and Daisy's eyes widen. “What? I figured that Rachel will have that phase and I'll just watch it then. Besides, I've always been more into comics and superheroes. Oh and comedies! I love a good comedy. I watched the Harry Potter movies,” you mention to try and get the shock off of Daisy's face. 

“Now we both have some homework to do,” Daisy says as she rises from the table and collects the dishes from the table. “I'll wash these, you go find the first Hunger Games movie and put it on,” she directs and you laugh until you realize that she isn't kidding. You accept it and move to the living room to do as she asked and get comfortable for an impromptu movie night.

Chapter 12

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[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 22

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here, six here, seven here, eight here,nine here, ten here, eleven here , twelve here , thirthen here, fourteen here, Fifteen Here Sixteen here, Seventeen here, Eighteen here, Nineteen here, Twenty here , Twenty-One here,

master list

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out. This one is pretty tame, some angst, some hurt, come comfort, teeth rotting fluff

Synopsis: Learning how to be alone again.

“You going to be okay?” Walton asks as he stuffs his carry-on. You hand him his charger and ipad, watching him carefully tuck it into the front pocket. Happy that you had bought him the hard case for it, wondering how it had survived beforehand. 

“No, I believe I will turn into stone until you return?” You fake fall onto the bed, causing Walton to chuckle at you. You would definitely miss him, and it was hard to be away, but that was part of life. Part of the agreement, so to speak.

He lays down next to you, hand rubbing along your stomach. “I mean it. You're welcome to come with me, though I am not sure how exciting it will be.”

You hum contently, “I promise, I will be fine. It's four days, plus I could always use extra practice. Get to know the rest of the crew.” 

It also meant you’d have a decent paycheck, but you’d keep that to yourself. Walton had a habit of paying for anything and everything, he said it was the gentlemanly thing to do. Old ideas die hard, or something like that. As much as you appreciated it, having money tucked away just in case was still a priority for you. 

“I will have my phone, make sure I am replying when I can,”  Walton replies, pulling his phone out of his pocket to show you. 

“Do I need to get some duct tape?” You ask, teasing him as you run your fingers through his hair, getting a soft groan. “You'll be back here before we know it.”

The two of you take the elevator down into the hustle and bustle of the city. Leo is waiting for Walton, you give Walton a quick kiss and hug before you see him off. You watch him drive away, your heart clenching as your stomach turns.

Four days, that's all it would be.

***

It was not four days, not surprisingly several things had come up, and now he wouldn't be back till Friday night. Walton should be back that evening, but it still left you feeling a little sore about the whole situation. The week had been challenging, to say the least, filming schedules shifted, and locations needing to be changed on the fly. The first day had been okay, everyone was easy enough to work with. You were back in a pop-up tent, but work was work. Right? 

That’s when the realization that some of the other artists weren’t happy with your placement. So instead of being welcoming, they’d given you the cold shoulder. Nothing new, or really exciting, but it was annoying. Trying to get details was a guessing game, that had meant pouring over the notes you could get your hands on. Rereading scripts and pages, and trying to hopefully get things right. The ADs hovering over your shoulder didn’t help matters, nothing was fast enough. Just to see the extras get tucked in the back, where they wouldn’t get seen by the camera. 

By the end of the day, you had decided to stop by the liquor store and grab something a bit stronger. Along with some mix, limes, and a greasy sandwich you’d probably regret later. Once back in the hotel, you had a long hot shower and crawled into bed with a drink. Flicking your phone open you weren’t surprised to see no messages. Walton had been busy, so you sent a quick message goodnight and called it a day.

Days two and three were much the same. Handling extras that were never seen, avoiding glares from the other artists, you had given up trying to talk to them. Sitting in the lunch tent, flipping through a novel on your phone, when one of the artists sat across from you. The woman had neatly placed black curls, a round face, olive skin, and hazel eyes that looked at you over her gold-rimmed glass.

“New girl in town?” The woman asks, picking at her salad, she has several tattoos along her arms. One was a pair of scissors and a comb meaning she was more than likely part of Hair. 

“Sort of.” You reply, putting your phone down, no sense being rude. “I usually work with Walton, but he is away this week.”

“Ahh, the girlfriend. That’s why everyone’s so cagey.” She says quietly, putting her fork down to look at you. 

You shrug, doing your best not to show how much that bothered you. “No need for anyone to be cagey, I am here to do my job like everyone else.”

“Yet, you’re not like everyone else.” She points the fork at you, raising her eyebrows. “You’re the lead actor's girlfriend, or whatever. Which means we all got to be on our best behavior.”

You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms across your stomach. “I am not different than anyone else.” You push your plate away. “Just here to do a job, and be apart of the process.”  

The girl rolls her eyes, it isn’t lost on you that she hasn’t given you her name. “You won't be a little nervous about some new artist coming in? No one knows you, you're doing the fx on the lead actor, and have barely said hello to anyone”

You fiddle with the watch on your wrist, you hadn't really thought about that. Others might have taken your lack of socialization as being a bit of a stuck-up.

“I didn't mean to be rude, just my first full fx gig.” You reply, looking down at the texture of the table. "Plus Walton often needs a little more attention cause of the prosthetics and the heat."

She shrugs, "I get it, but really you should come by the trailer and introduce yourself. We aren't as bitchy as we seem. I promise"

You decide then to hold out your hand and introduce yourself to the woman across from you. As well as take the time to stop by the trailer before lunch had finished.

"I am, Angela," She said, shaking your hand firmly. "Nice to finally meet you.

The two of you talk back and forth about schools, aspirations, and what shows you had both worked on. You are grateful that Angela left out any questions about Walton, instead filling you in on who was who on set.

The two of you walk to the trailer, and Angela introduces you to everyone. Despite a few sideways looks, they are friendly and one of the make-up artists even gives you the shared cloud link for all the notes.

Then day four came, and the dread text came through. You knew as soon as your phone buzzed what it would be.

Walton: Looks like I am going to be here till Friday. I will make it up to you <3

You: Nothing to make up for. Can’t wait to see you <3

Walton: I miss you so much.

You: I miss you too, love you.

Walton: Love you more

You close your phone sliding it onto the side table, tears staining your pillowcase. Even if it was only a couple more days, it was still hard not to feel alone. Angela had made some headway in the department so the other artists were now accepting you, but the tension hadn’t left. At least you had notes and could prioritize the extras that were in front of the camera instead of guessing.  

Still, the whole space felt off, you felt off. Maybe it was just you, but you missed having someone to talk to at the end of the day. To tell you it was going to be okay. Yes, you both had talked on the phone, over text, and facetime, but it wasn’t the same. Yet, again, that was part of the job, part of the relationship. There were going to be days, weeks, even months where you didn’t see each other. It didn’t help the loneliness, that was a new feeling. Not a feeling you were too fond of either, after years of not relying on anyone, missing someone was rough. 

Dragging your blanket over your head you force yourself to try and sleep. Two more days, just two more days right?

***

Friday night had come, it was so damn late that it was hard to keep your eyes open. You now fully understood why so many people did harder stuff, cause the long nights were catching up to you. At this rate, it would be turning into a fraturday. You shift on your feet, the ache in your calves had settled in sometimes on Wednesday and hadn’t given up. A chair wasn’t an option when you were juggling this many people, the ADs always eyeballing you. A massage, and a hot bath. You mentally are doing the math as to how much you have in your account, maybe just a bath and some tylenol. 

“Hey,” You look up at the head of the department walking over. Taylor, or Tanner? You couldn’t remember exactly. “You are clear to go home. AD just sent the extras home, go get some sleep.” 

You give him a thumbs up, “Perfect, thank you. See yah on Monday.” 

You hobble over to your tent, grab your water bottle, then make a beeline for the trailer. The SPFX trailer was not technically in use this week, but that hasn’t stopped you from stashing your kit in there. At least it meant no one would steal stuff. You clean everything, grabbing cleaner and your brushes for the weekend. A deep clean was needed, you also mentally noted that you needed to come in forty minutes early to get yourself set up on Monday. 

The ride back to the hotel is mostly filled with yawns, and trying to stay awake enough to make the drive. The hotel is thankfully quiet, being as late as it is, you hit the elevator and stop staring at the buttons. You realize that you have no idea what floor your room is on, chuckling you walk out and ask the front desk. Who gives you the floor number, looking as confused as you feel.

You finally up to the floor and walk over to your room door. Juggling keys and bag you finally get the door open, and Walton is sitting on the bed leaning back on his hands. Looking like he was fresh out of the shower, a crooked smile on his face.

“You’re home,” He grins, getting up to help unload your things. 

You smile back, blinking in surprise. “You never texted that you were here.” 

He leans down and gives you a quick kiss, “Wanted to surprise you. Knew you had a hard week.”

You take off your jacket, and toeing off your shoes stretching your feet in the carpet. “It was, well it was interesting.” You sigh, grabbing a cup to fill with water. “But I think things are looking up. Maybe now?” 

Walton chuckles, handing you some tylenol, which you gratefully take with the water. “I think they just need to get to know you better.”

Rubbing at your temples you nod, “You may be right. I wasn’t exactly in my best mood. Handling twenty extras was a bitch.”

“But you did it, made it to the end of the week.” He says, walking over to the bathroom. “Let me draw you a bath, order some overpriced room service and we can unwind.”

“I will be fine without food,” You try and argue, stripping out of your clothes, you dig into your bag finding a loose-fitting t-shirt and a pair of baggy shorts. 

Walton sticks his head out of the bathroom, “Room service, maybe some ice cream too.”

“You aren’t going to let me say no, are you?” You sigh, walking over to the bathroom, he shakes his head when he sees you. 

“Not this time, you need to eat and relax. I’d do anything for you,” He grins as he sits himself up on the counter, bare feet moving back and forth.

You remove the rest of your clothing, stepping into the hot bathtub, you groan loud enough for Walton’s eyebrows to shoot up. Trying not to think about it too much you sink down into the hot water. Walton is up, rolling a fluffy towel up and putting it behind your head, he makes sure to lift your hair out of the water. Going back he grabs a brush and another towel. You close your eyes and let him take care of you.

“Going to let me take care of you?” He asks as he ties off the braid with practice ease. 

“What do you have planned?” You ask, wondering what he had plans. “It’s already Saturday.” 

“If you feel like it, spa Saturday afternoon, there is a fantastic farmers market we should go to. Then Sunday we are doing massages, and there is a couple of early theater shows I think we should go see.” Walton suggests you shake your head with a small grin. Of course, he’d have the whole weekend planned out.

“I would love that,” You reply, sinking down a little more into the water. 

You hear him get up, walking out of the bathroom to order food, and you take the time to soap yourself up and clean a little. Using a small hand towel to wipe away the dirt, you can just make out the rumbling of his voice. A warm comfort knowing he is there, that you weren’t alone tonight. When did being alone become so scary?

“So food will be up here in about thirty minutes,” He calls out, coming back into the bathroom. “Feeling a little better?”

You can’t hide your grin, “Yeah, I think the headache is almost gone, and my legs aren’t cramping anymore.”

Walton grabs another fluffy towel and robe, “Ready to get out?"

Nodding your head you get out of the tub, Walton walks forward holding the towel. You go to grab it, but he bats your hands away and starts to dry you off. His hands are gentle, as he takes his time to dry you. It’s strangely intimate, feel yourself shiver as he finishes standing just behind you. He leans down and kisses across the top of your shoulder, hands traveling around your ribs down to your hips. You lean against him, humming slightly as your eyes close. 

Soft rob material replaces his heat, as he wraps you up in the rob, kissing your neck before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the room. You follow, the heat from the bath and tylenol had eased the pain in your legs. Walton pulls the blankets back so you can sit down, you adjust the pillows so you’re comfortable. As if on cue room service knocks on the door. 

Walton disappears, rolling a small cart into the room. “Dinner of champions,” He lifts the lid with a flourish, to reveal two bowls of ice cream. “But we keep it balanced,” Walton lifts the other lid to reveal a platter of various fruits. “Also champagne, cause everything's better with bubbles.” 

You happily take the champagne, Walton busying himself getting all the bits and pieces set on the bed. He slides in sitting cross legged beside you. 

“I remember the last time you and me had some fruit,” You tease as you grab a strawberry, taking it with a spoon full of ice cream.   

Walton giggles, his face flushing, as he grabs some melon. “I seem to remember you enjoying yourself.”

You cough back another spoonful of ice cream, “Oh, I have no complaints about anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, taking another sip of the drink, the fuzzy feeling hitting your temples.

His fingers sliding up your thigh, “Always room for improvements, practice makes perfect.” 

“Now, now, let me finish my ice cream,” You tease, making sure not to push him away but lean into it. 

The two of you finish up most of the fruit and ice cream, Walton clearing everything up making sure you stay seated. He disappears for a moment, moving the cart out into the hallway, then slipping into the bathroom. You can hear him rummaging around in there. 

“What are you looking for?” You ask, going to get up when he comes out. He has two packages of something, and several bottles tucked under his arms. “Is that all my skincare?”

Walton beams setting all the bits and pieces down. The two of you sitting

cross-legged on the bed together, grabbing the facemask out of the packages to dawn them. Walton makes faces as you help him stick it on.

“This smells so good,” Walton says, grabbing another bottle. “What do you use for hands?”

Your head tips back laughing, “The one that says hands.” 

“Oooh” Walton chuckles, lifting the bottle triumphantly. He carefully squirts some out onto his palm and holds his hand out for you. 

“So how was LA?” You ask as he starts to carefully rub the cream into your hands. 

“It was a lot, Doug has me jammed for the foreseeable future.” Walton says, making sure each hand is covered. “I missed you a lot, it’s not the same without you.”

You flush a little, “I missed you too. But I am always glad you’re busy,”

He dug through the bottles scooting down the bed to start to work at your feet. You shiver a little curling your toes as it tickles. 

“You sure?” Walton asks, looking up over his glasses, as he massages against the arch of your foot. You wince a little feeling soreness there, as he moves down to cup the heel of your foot. 

You tilt your head, “What makes you ask?”

“When you walked in, it was like you were a different person.” He says quietly, now working up our calves. “That spark, that I love so much, was dim. I haven’t seen it before and I really don’t want to see it again.”

You swallow, crossing your arms to hold at your shoulders. “I’ve come to rely on you, maybe even more than I had realized.” His hands find a knot in the back of your calf that makes you tense up, he eases back but keeps working at it. “I feel like I am repeating myself here. But relying on someone isn’t easy for me, and I found myself feeling incredibly lonel while you were gone.”

Walton doesn’t say anything instead moving over to the other leg, his hands soothing the aches and pains from the week. His shoulders stretch the fabric across his back, before he looks up at you. “Is there a way I can make it easier for you?” 

You look out the window towards the city lights, trying to find words. It wasn’t that you needed things to be easier, it was more that it was taking time to adjust to things. To adjust to being in love with someone, to being in love but also knowing that you couldn’t always be with them.

“I don’t think there is a way to make it easier. Right now it’s me, I am still learning and changing. This week made that so clear.” You bite your lip trying to make sense of it all. 

He finishes up with your legs, tucking the different bottles away, the two of you helping each other peel off the face masks. Walton shuffles into the bed, leaning you against his chest hands running over the twist of your hair. 

“I know we aren’t going to always be together.” You say quietly, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable. “I think that scares me, scares me a lot. Cause I don’t want to lose you, to miss out on anything.”

“Think the kids call that FO-MO,” Walton teases, kissing the top of your head. 

You swat at his chest, “Oh hush, I was trying to be sentimental.”

Walton chuckles but brings you close to him. “We are going to spend time apart, but I promise I am not going anywhere. Don’t care what happens, me and you, until you get tired of my old gray ass.”

You let out a snort, leaning back so you can kiss him properly. “What happens if I don’t get tired of you?”

Walton leans back humming as he looks up at the ceiling, “Then I guess we'll just stay together.”

“Promise?” You ask, watching him carefully, he looks back down at you. 

“Promise.” He says back, kissing you again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Our favorite love birds are back!

@ghoulphile @hiddlebatchedloki @live-logs-and-proper @justme12200 @ryankaylamartin96

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[scoobydoodean]

Dean not wanting Sam to go off alone in 5.02 is completely reasonable. They think they're on a demon case, and the ONLY time Dean has seen Sam drink demon blood, it was when Sam wrestled a demon he was fighting to the ground and drank from her neck right in front of Dean and Cas who he'd been keeping the entire thing from. He was so desperate for a hit he completely forgot/didn't care anymore. So Dean KNOWS the desperation Sam is capable of and exactly what he might do to get a taste of demon blood.

Sam may have gotten the "Supernatural methadone" treatment, but he still feels the psychological component of the addiction—the desire for the power the demon blood gives him, and that's very clear when Sam stands there staring at the "demon" blood on his hands in the store and only gets distracted from his obvious temptation when the door chimes and he needs to take cover again.

What's more, he as good as tells Dean that he wishes he had his powers again after killing the "demons" in the store. He says, "I just wish I could save people like I used to". He denies that that's his meaning, but exactly what else could that possibly mean? It's the same argument he made in 4.04 in the earlier stages of his use of demon blood, before it all went totally to shit with the inflated ego and the increasing lack of empathy and the increased appetite and the withdrawal symptoms when he didn't get a taste often enough. It's the early stages of a return to exactly where he was.

It is NOT irrational to suggest maybe Sam shouldn't be going off alone by himself on a case where they are surrounded on all sides by demons. Sam is essentially a recovering alcoholic trapped in an endless liquor store, and Dean is trying to keep him in the mixer isle or at least say "let me go down the isle with the rum with you", but Sam can't stand the idea of having anyone there to hold him accountable. His reaction (shoving Dean into the wall for thinking he might fall off the wagon) is fucking ridiculous, and it's even more ridiculous that he does it 1) literally RIGHT AFTER telling Dean he wishes he had his powers again (then insisting that isn't what he meant when there is literally nothing else he could mean). 2) A scene after he stood there staring at the "demon" blood on his thumb and on the knife, in the store, and only got distracted from his obvious temptation when the door chime rang.

The shove also only reinforces for Dean that he's right about this, and you can tell that's what makes Sam stop and realize he shouldn't pursue a fight further—that he's only digging his own grave, and it's pointless, because Dean already told him an episode ago that he doesn't trust him. He says,

Oh, that's right, I forgot. You think I'll take one look at a demon and suddenly fall off the wagon, as if, after everything, I haven't learned my lesson.

But... Sam hasn't... actually said yet that he doesn't want to drink demon blood anymore? He's said that Dean and Bobby warned him about it and he didn't listen, but he hasn't actually at any point said that he'd never consider drinking it again. He just said he doesn't have withdrawl symptoms because "whoever put me on that plane cleaned me right up." Like many of his actual motivations for drinking demon blood haven't been addressed at all and he just did the exact opposite of say he would never consider it again right before he says this so angrily.

[cameronspecial]

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 2)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Under Age Drinking, Violence and being alone with a dangerous man. If I missed one just tell me.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: Y/N isn’t much of a partier, but the promise of books gets her out of her room. What happens when a dangerous guest feels to make his presence known?

Masterlist

Parties are not Y/N’s definition of fun. They are noisy, crowded, sweaty, smelly and if her brother is the host for the evening, then she always manages to get roped into helping with the disastrous clean the next morning. The only time you could only ever find her at a party is if Lacey and Mason have bribed her with the offer of a free book.  

This is one of the times where the promise of a book spree has led Y/N to be in the car waiting for her brother at the liquor store on the Cut that doesn’t card people. She honestly isn’t even sure the store has a license. Marvin and Cassie Y/L/N are away for their yearly couples getaway that they have been going on since the twins were old enough to stay home alone. This year they are in Bali. Marvin is a corporate lawyer and Cassie is a successful author, so it is nice to get some time together, away from all responsibilities. Y/N doesn’t mind being on the Cut side of the island. She is not one to particularly care about the Pogues vs Kooks war. 

Mason makes his way back towards the car carrying multiple different bags. He puts them in the trunk and hops back into the driver’s seat. “Did you at least get me some hard kombucha or some sort of seltzer?” Y/N questions. The car starts moving and Mason glances towards his sister, “Of course, dude. I know you. Plus, I feel better knowing that your drinks are in a can. Less chances of someone tampering with it.” “You know, Mace, you are kinda sweet when you are all big brothery,” Y/N teases as she gives her brother a light punch to the arm. Mason smiles at his sister and the car falls quiet for a few minutes with the only sound coming from the radio. 

“You know Rafe really is trying to be more friendly to you,” Mason begins to break the silence but regrets it as soon as he sees the disapproving look on Y/N’s face, “Okay well he is kinda trying.” Y/N pauses the conversation to think about how she is going to answer. “Well, he’s doing a horrible job at it. It’s not that I despise him. I just hate the whiplash he gives me with the two personalities he has when he is around me,” she explains. Mason's face turns to confusion, “What do you mean?” “I mean that one minute he is annoying the shit out of me and then the next he does something nice for me. Like the other day with my phone or when we met or when he stole my cookie. For as long as I’ve known him, he has either been caring or a nuisance. Never just simply one or the other. Plus, I don’t love how he treats the pogues,” Y/N complains. “Right,” Mason agrees dully. All he wants is for his best friend and sister to get along. 

“It’s also his constant flirting with any female that so much as looks in his direction. Like I get that he’s hot but he doesn’t need to act like he is god’s gift to humankind,” Y/N continues. Mason completely understands what his sister means by that because Rafe is the stereotypical playboy, “Yeah, I get that. Dude, it’s not like I’m asking you to marry him. I don’t even want you guys to be in a romantic relationship, anyways. It would just be nice to not have to play advocate for you guys.”

——

Y/N is getting ready in her room while the boys get the alcohol prepared in the kitchen. “So your sister is coming tonight too, right?” Rafe asks Mason. Although he loves to tease Y/N, Rafe had an ‘only I can mess with her’ type of view. Also, Mason and Rafe had an unspoken agreement that Rafe would always keep an eye on Y/N whenever Mason couldn’t. It is important to both boys that she is safe and Rafe would rather cut off his left leg than let anything happen to his unconscious love. “Yeah. I’m going to be out, like, $200 because of the book spree I promised her but she agreed. “Okay, cool,” Rafe says and even though he tries to sound nonchalant about it, Mason could see the flash of excitement that went through Rafe’s eyes. 

He may not like to admit it, but Mason knows Rafe has an interest in his twin sister. However, he wasn’t sure if it was just lust or something deeper and more romantic than that. Either way, Mason is not going to risk his sister’s heart just in case it is the former. With what he saw from his best friend’s dating history, Rafe could never be the right person for Y/N because he has never taken any of his relationships past the friends-with-benefits/hook-up stage. 

Yet, Mason couldn’t possibly know what is passing through Rafe’s mind at that exact moment. What is the best way to keep an eye on Y/N without making her feel uncomfortable? How could he make sure that no boys make unwanted advanced toward her? Is there anything he could do to make her safer? Would she wear the carpenter pants that she loves because of all the pockets it has? Or would she wear the new dress she got last week that she was so excited about showing Mason when she got back home? How many different places could he hide her book if she brought one down with her? Could he trick her into drinking beer, which he knows she doesn’t like the bitter taste of? Rafe shakes his head as he tries to get himself out of the rabbit hole he’s gotten himself into. 

——

The Y/L/N residence is filled to the brim with Kooks and Tourons lucky enough to be invited by an island native. Music pounds into Y/N's head as she hands out drinks to anyone that asks. She finds it easier to stay in the kitchen and play host than actually try to engage in meaningless conversations. 

Her train of thought is interrupted by someone making their presence known to her from behind, “So, Y/L/N, is this your playlist that’s playing because I swear every song just sounds the same and is about breakups.” Y/N ignores the statement made by the taller boy and continues to hand the beer over to the person in front of her. She must be a Touron because Y/N has never seen her before. Y/N feels Rafe approach her as she hands the next boy in line a beer as well. 

Before the boy can grab the drink, Rafe reaches over her shoulder and grabs the can out of her hand. “Seriously, Rafe. What are you, four?” Y/N criticizes as she reaches for the drink, “You really aren’t very original you know.” Rafe could’ve sworn he saw, just for a millisecond, a playful look in Y/N’s eyes before it is replaced again with a serious and unamused look. After a few seconds of no luck, Y/N just reaches down for another can of beer and hands it to the intended recipient. 

Once the other boy is gone, Rafe finally sets the can down and goes in closer to her so that he is just on the edge of invading her personal space. “So, what books are you going to milk dry from your brother?” he asks as he goes to play with the bottom of her hair but thinks against it. He isn’t sure if it would make her uncomfortable. Little did Rafe know, Y/N thought of a way to get back at him for the teasing. She places her hand behind her back on the counter and grabs the beer Rafe just placed down. She quickly brings her hand back around and shakes the can, then opens it. The fizz dirties both of them, but the look of shock and slight annoyance on Rafe’s face makes it worth it. “Really, Y/L/N,” he complains as he shakes the drink off of his hands. Y/N giggles as she walks out of the kitchen to go change, “Maybe you should start keeping clothes in a drawer in Mason’s room. Like his girlfriend would do.” Before she is completely out of hearing range, Rafe shouts, “I’d much rather the drawer be in your room.” 

——

Y/N decides that she isn’t going to return to the party after she finished changing, so she makes her way to the hidden gazebo in the backyard. The music from the party is drowned out and the twinkle of the fairy lights brings her a feeling of calm. She sits in the dangling basket chair put up by her father for her to read and starts to read her book. 

She is so entranced by the book that she didn’t notice that Owen Taleman has made his way out to the gazebo as well. His golden brown hair is slicked back and his green eyes hold a dark look. It does not surprise her that he is wearing a full suit to a house party because the uptight man is rarely seen without one. While Rafe typically teases Y/N in a manner that hints at lovingness and playfulness, Owen’s teasing is laced with cruelty and mockery. No one is safe from the entitled prick; not even little children. Y/N is positive she once heard him insult a toddler’s shoes. “Of course, the little bitch reader is hiding out from the party,” Owen mocks as he struts his way toward her. 

Y/N may have been a reader and quieter than Mason, Lacey or Rafe, but she is not afraid to stand up for herself or defend herself. “At least I’m not an asshole who can't get my head out of my ass,” Y/N retorts. Owen’s face easily turns red and he gets right into Y/N’s face. The boy towers over her with a menacing look on his face. Y/N normally wouldn’t be nervous, but the fact that she is alone makes her understand the danger of the situation. 

Rafe’s eyes flicker through the crowd as he looks for Y/N. He didn’t see her leave her room and when he knocked, she didn’t answer. He begins to get worried as he has a bad feeling in his stomach. He spots Mason going up towards his room with a Touron girl. Rafe threads his way through the people quickly, “Yo, have you seen Y/N?” Even though Mason normally keeps an eye out for his sister, he made sure to give her her space. However, the look of worry on Rafe’s face instantly clues Mason in that something is wrong. Both boys abandon the unknown girl in search of Y/N. 

They searched everywhere in the house and concluded that she must have gone somewhere outside. The sight they are met with makes their blood boil. Owen’s face is close to Y/N’s and his hand is curled in a fist, ready to throw a punch. “Dude, you better back away from my sister before I make you,” Mason threatens as he advances toward the pair with Rafe going ahead of him. Owen distances himself a little from Y/N and turns towards the newcomers, “Oh look, it’s Tweedledee and Tweedledum. I’m surprised you both don’t have your tongues shoved down some whores mouth.” Owen didn’t realize that insulting her brother would anger Y/N into aggression, but he soon would. 

Upon hearing his words, Y/N taps Owen’s shoulder and punches him once he is facing her. When he comes back up, Owen’s nose is bleeding profusely and an embarrassed look is on his face. He is definitely the type of person to throw a fit about losing to a girl. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers for this,” Owen yells as he stomps off of the Y/L/N property. “Go ahead, try! I promise mine are scarier!” Y/N retorts. 

Owen is out of sight when Y/N finally starts to process what could’ve happened if Mason and Rafe hadn’t come looking for her. Owen is a known hothead. Some could say even worse than Rafe. She goes to get comfort from the closest body to her, which happens to be Rafe. She tucks her head into his neck and wraps her arms tightly around his waist, “I think the adrenaline wore off. I was so scared when no one else was around. I didn’t know what to do.”

Rafe quickly wraps his arm around her shoulders and buries his face into her hair. The smell of her lavender shampoo hits his nose. “You’re okay. We’ve got you,” he soothes as he notices that Y/N began sniffling. He gently runs his fingers through her hair and shifts his weight from one leg to the other to rock the both of them. 

Mason is not an idiot. He may have believed his friend wasn’t capable of holding true romantic feelings for someone, but as he watches the domestic scene in front of him, there is no denying the two have some sort of chemistry. Mason could see the concern and love that are in Rafe’s eyes. Mason listens to the soft reassurances Rafe whispers in her ear and sees his sister slowly start to calm down. This is a side of Rafe that Mason has never seen before. 

Rafe’s eyes make contact with Mason’s and an unspoken conversation happens between the two. Mason goes back into the house, turns off the music and turns all the lights on, “Dudes! Party is over so get the fuck out of my house! You don’t have to go home, but you have to get out!” Disappointment can be heard throughout the crowd, but they quickly start filing out of the house because what one of the Kook princes wanted, they got. 

Y/N and Rafe watch from outside as people start to file out of the house. Most of the people are out of the house by the time Rafe leads Y/N back inside and into her room. He stands outside of her door like a bodyguard while he waits for her to change. She opens the door wearing an oversized shirt and some shorts. The shirt looks familiar and Rafe realizes that it is his Led Zeppelin shirt. She must have taken it from Mason because Rafe and Mason borrowed each others’ clothes enough times that they practically shared their closets. 

Rafe feels butterflies in his stomach as he realizes just how much he likes the idea of her wearing one of his shirts. “You know that’s my shirt right,” he smirks as he gets closer to the girl. She scrunches her nose in confusion and shakes her head, “Oh, I found it in Mason’s laundry. And it’s mine now. So you aren’t getting it back anytime soon. It’s comfy.” She wraps her hand around her waist protectively. Rafe slowly makes his way closer to Y/N as if he is approaching a fawn. He gently wraps his arms around her and smiles when she lets him. “I wasn’t asking for it back. You look good in it.” She feels a blush form on her cheeks and turns away from him. She leads him into her room and lies down on her bed. He follows her and waits for her to tell him what she wants him to do. “Can you stay until I fall asleep? I don’t feel like being alone right now,” she whispers as if she is scared of what he is going to say. 

Rafe nods his head and pulls her desk chair closer to the bed. He knows Y/N hates it when people wear outside clothes on her bed. She reaches her hand out for his and he takes it. And they just stay there looking at each other while she falls asleep. Rafe traces patterns onto her hand with his thumb. Once he sees she is asleep, he quietly gets up from the chair and goes downstairs to find Mason starting to clean up already.

Rafe starts to help with the cleanup by picking up the solo cups littering the floors. “So you do love her.” He hears from behind him. Mason stands at the doorway of the living room, leaning on the door frame. “Yeah, I do. I know it’s cheesy and unoriginal and probably wrong to say but I think I couldn’t commit to anyone else because my heart knows she’s the only one that can truly make it want to beat faster and stop at the same time. When I’m with her, time goes by so fast but I just want time to stop,” he confides to his best friend. “Right, and what is it about her that makes you like her?” Mason questions still wanting to make sure his friend’s feelings are genuine. 

The smile on Rafe’s face says it all, “I don’t think I could really pinpoint what it is. But she makes me happy and I love how she doesn’t treat me any differently because of who I am. She’s not afraid to stand up for herself and she’s the most caring and protective person I know. I mean she literally just punched Owen for me just to stand up for me and she doesn’t even like me.” Mason nods in understanding and resumes cleaning up. “Dude, I’m going to try to set you up with my sister. Now that I know how you truly feel, I trust that you will not hurt her feelings. But if she refuses to go out with you, then you have to promise to leave it at that and stop bothering her okay.” 

Rafe gives Mason an unsure look as he thinks the other boy is joking. “Are you sure? I mean I’ll totally back off if she says no once I get the courage to ask. Thank you so much,” he gives his appreciation to his friend. Rafe drops the garbage bag in his hand and runs to hug Mason. “Okay, so the first thing we can do to get you on Y/N/N's good side is finish cleaning the house before she wakes up. Cleaning messes after a party is literally one of her least favourite things when I throw a party. The boys spent a good three hours cleaning the house before they are finally ready to settle down for the night. 

——

Y/N expects the sun from the window to wake her up this morning but instead, she is woken up by the soft sound of music coming from downstairs. She quickly hops out of bed and completes her morning routine before pulling Mason’s swim team hoodie over her head. She thought she would see a complete mess as she makes her way to the source; however, she is delightfully surprised to see the house spotless. The girl finds the source of the music in the kitchen.

Rafe and Mason are in the kitchen making breakfast. “Good morning, Y/L/N. We wanted to make you your fave eggs benedict recipe of Lacey’s but we couldn’t figure out how to poach the eggs. So rather, we went with making waffles instead,” Rafe informs her then points towards Mason with a spatula, “Mason cut the strawberries. If you want bananas, then he is getting it ready right now. I also went out to get the fresh whipped cream and hot chocolate you like from that fancy grocery store.” She smiles at the boys and sits at the kitchen island, “Thank you! It smells so good and it was sweet of you to go to the store. Also, thanks for cleaning the house.” Rafe beams at the girl as he slides the cup of hot chocolate toward the girl. He knows he hasn’t done much to get on her good side yet, but he found it amazing that she is always polite, even to people she isn’t a big fan of. He takes the last waffle out of the waffle maker and sets it on her plate. He adds the fruits and whipped cream then gets cutlery for everyone. Once everything is ready for breakfast, everyone sits down and starts to eat. 

Throughout breakfast, Y/N kept thinking that Rafe would find some way to tease her. Whether it was about the amount of whipped cream she put on her waffle or the way she let out a satisfied sigh whenever she would take a sip out of her hot chocolate, she prepared herself for the worst. She is proven wrong though. Y/N and Rafe are actually able to have a conversation without fighting. Everyone finishes their breakfast and since the boys cooked, Y/N cleans up for them. “Hey Y/L/N, Mace and I are going to head to the pool to get some training in. Do you wanna come?” Rafe asks her. He is hopeful that she will say yes, except he knows she doesn’t particularly enjoy swimming laps. She looks over her shoulder to him, “No, I’m going to go to the beach. We can meet up for lunch though if you want.” Upon hearing her offer to make plans with him later, Rafe becomes overjoyed at the fact that she wants to spend more time with him. But he doesn’t know Y/N spending time on the beach alone leads to an encounter that will rid him of his happiness and hope. 

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for "gossiping" about a coworker?

I (27m) work in a liquor store and am quite genuinely the most competent employee despite having been until very recently the newest. Other than the owner, there are 2 who've worked there longer than me and both of them (I'll call em C (31m) and M(39f) have made much less effort to learn about liquor or even, quite frankly, people skills than I have. And lemme tell you, I started out very socially anxious. I'm a regular socialite now.

So C, at least, has a really good work ethic. He's not super socially adept with customers but he makes up for it by going above and beyond, like taking initiative to do a lot of the relatively "shit" work that the rest of us don't wanna do. I'd also say I get along with him very well bc he's pretty intelligent and open-minded.

M, meanwhile, is genuinely the most simple-minded person I've ever known in my life. The good thing is that she seems to be kind of self-aware of not being very smart and able to be a good sport about it (ngl it helps that I'm gay and she's the type to want a sassy gbf so i can kinda get away with being mean as a joke) - and she is also often just as self-aware about the fact that she doesn't do shit at work. Like she'll literally pause deliveries just bc she doesn't feel like driving, she never takes out trash, she's basically always late, she mentally shuts down at the prospect of any math despite working with money, she has little to no decision-making skills either, she spends half her shift in the bathroom and the other half literally playing solitaire, she isn't able to help customers with shit bc she's never made an effort to learn about anything we sell, etc. But she's nice, and we really don't need her help that much with anything other than just having people behind the counter.

And that's more or less what I told the newest hire, S(25F). It was in the context of explaining exactly how incredibly easy this job is - that basically almost nothing was gonna be expected of her. As examples I told her how M does the least here by far after being here for over 2 years and is at no risk of being fired. I really didn't think much of it bc my intentions were purely to point out that this is a chill job.

But a few weeks later, seemingly at random, M kinda blew up at me for being "disrespectful" about something entirely unrelated. In short it was a matter of me getting a little too comfortable joking about her incompetence in front of a customer, and I hadn't realized in this particular instance it would be upsetting but I understood after the fact and I apologized. She responded literally ONLY by saying "you're not gonna disrespect me, I'm grown" and went on to literally just leave for the day. I was baffled, but when I saw her next I basically immediately gave another apology. She explained then that the reason she was upset was that the new girl S told her that I said she was the laziest one here, saying "I thought we were friends."

I obviously tried to apologize profusely, promising her that it wasn't a "talking shit" sort of thing and trying to explain the context of that, etc. But also I think it's pretty fucking rich and kinda insane of her to be so upset that I said she was lazy. She says so herself, all the time. Also the fact that S would tell M about this conversation and clearly either leave out the context or just do nothing to dissuade M from being upset about it.... Basically idk if I should feel bad about this. In the future I won't be talking shit to S just pragmatically speaking but WAS i wrong to do it at all? AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[alisbackalleybbq]

Hands Chapter 2

@bravosierra6

TW: None

“So what do you think of Bode being married?” Manny asked as he sat down with Vince and Sharon at Smokey’s later that day.

Sharon choked on the beer she’d just taken a drink of.  Vince slid a glass of water over to her and thumped on her back.

“What are you talking about?”  Vince asked.

“He didn’t tell you?”  Manny responded.  “That chick that was at the camp today.  She’s his wife.”  Manny took a drink of his own beer.

“There’s…no…way.” Sharon gasped, trying to catch her breath.

“What makes you think he’s married?”  Vince queried. 

“And to her?”  Sharon added.  “What?”  She asked her husband when he frowned at her.  “I love Bode but you can’t tell me your first thought wasn’t that she’s out of his league.”

Manny smirked.  “She introduced herself to me as his wife.  And he didn’t deny it.”

“How long have they been married?”  Sharon took another sip of water.

Manny shrugged.  “I didn’t stick around long after she said she’s his wife.”

Sharon lightly kicked Manny in the shin under the table.  “You’re supposed to eavesdrop on conversations like that!”

Manny held his hands up in surrender.  “From the sound of it, she had something heavy to tell him.  And with the way he sulked around the rest of the afternoon, whatever she came here for threw him off his game.”

“How do you mean?”  Vince asked.

“He was snapping at the other guys, couldn’t focus on the drills I had them running.  He was a mess.”  Manny answered.

“I think a long-lost wife would throw anybody off.” Sharon sighed.  “I’ve got to get to the bottom of this.”

“Sharon, let it alone.  He’ll tell us when he’s ready.”  Vince responded.

“Let it alone?”  Sharon looked at Manny.  “Let it alone he says.  My son disappears for years, ends up robbing a liquor store and lands himself in prison, then shows up at Three Rock.  We’re finally getting our relationship back with our son only to find out that he’s married and he never told us.  You want me to ‘let it alone’?  I’ve had a daughter in law all this time that I never knew about!” Sharon turned to her husband.

“It’s Bode, Sharon.  He was in a bad spot.  For all we know, this so-called wife is another drug addict who he married on a whim and she’s only going to pull him back down.  She was here for what?  Fifteen minutes and it’s already impacting Bode negatively.”  Vince took a swig of his beer.

Sharon huffed at her husband.  “I can tell just by looking at her that she’s not a drug addict. What do you know about her?” Sharon asked Manny.

“All I know is that her name is Arizona and that she’s his wife.”  Manny shrugged.

“It’s not much to go on.”  Sharon shrugged.

“Just ask him.”  Vince implored her.  “Don’t go behind his back.  Next time you see him, ask him flat out.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sharon joked.  “He obviously doesn’t want us to know about her so I’m going to figure this out on my own.”

______________________________________________________________

Vince sighed and sat down at an empty picnic table at Three Rock.  Sharon was still upset with Bode for not disclosing his marriage so she’d come up with some excuse to be too busy to go for visitation.  It was for the best, Vince decided.  He could ask Bode straight up about this whole wife business.

“Where’s Mom?” Bode asked as he sat down across from his father.

“Well, Bode, she’s upset so she decided to throw herself into work to try to make herself feel better,” Vince responded.

Bode scowled.  “Upset about what?”

“Arizona.” Vince said frankly.

Bode wiped a hand down his face and sighed.  

“When were you going to tell us?”  Vince matched his son’s sigh.

“I, honestly, never planned on telling you.”  Bode gulped, hating to have these hard conversations with his father since their relationship had been going so well. “When I married Arizona, I didn’t think I’d ever set foot back in Edgewater.  Once I fucked up and landed in prison, I figured I’d get served with divorce papers.  I didn’t think there’d be anything to tell.”

“So is that why she showed up here?  She wants a divorce?” Vince asked.  “Because I’ll tell you that your mom has been talking nonstop about having a daughter in law.”

“She didn’t bring up divorce when she was here.  I did my best to push her away and force her out of my life.  Yet, after all of this time, she still showed up to tell me that our best friend had been…”  Bode swallowed thickly.  He was still reeling from the news of Jesse’s death and couldn’t quite bring himself to admit out loud that one of his best friends was dead.  “Arizona is the most amazing woman in the world and deserves so much better than me.”

Vince sighed sadly, knowing that hurt look on Bode’s face all too well. It was the same look Bode had on his face after Riley died…right before Vince told him to leave Edgewater and never return.

“Tell me about her, Bode.  Tell me everything.”  Vince said simply.

“Where do I start?” Bode grinned.

“From the start.  How did you meet?” Vince prompted.

“I got sober after the accident and was just knocking around, going from town to town trying to find a place that felt…right.”  Bode shrugged.  “I landed in a small town about four hours south of here.  I picked up a construction job pretty easily and started rooming with a couple of the guys on the crew.  They’d party pretty hard every night and it was starting to make them a little reckless on the job.  One day, one of the guys was on the second floor of a house we were building and whipped around with a long piece of framing.  It threw him off balance and he fell from the second story onto the ground.  The piece of framing ended up hitting me in the head.”  Bode smirked at the memory.  “We were both rushed to the local emergency room.  As we were wheeled in, there was this gorgeous brunette woman in purple scrubs ordering everybody around.”  He shook his head.

“And there was Arizona?”  Vince asked.

“And there was Arizona.” Bode sighed and looked down at his hands.  “We talked a little while she was treating me.”

“She was your nurse?”

Bode shook his head.  “She was my doctor.”

Vince whistled. “A doctor.”

“She told me that because of my head injury that I couldn’t fall asleep.  I didn’t want to go back to an apartment full of drunk, rowdy assholes so she offered to let me stay with her and her sister.  She kept me awake all night.  We talked about everything.  Our pasts, our families, what we want in the future.”

“She’s pretty naive if she let a stranger stay with her all night.  Did you tell your dad died in a horrible fire?” Vince teased.

Bode shook his head softly.  “I told her the truth about it all.  She never looked at me any differently.  I started hanging out with her and her best friend, Jesse, every chance I got. Jesse’s roommate was getting married and moving out so Jesse asked me to move in.  I started making a new life, a new family.  I felt the best that I had in years.  Arizona and I met in March, started dating in May, and were pronounced husband and wife at midnight on January first.”

“So you’ve been married for a while now.”  Vince realized.

Bode nodded.  “She wanted to support me after I relapsed and ended up in jail.  She came to every court hearing.  I never let her come visit me. Not in jail; not in prison. I never even called her.  I hadn’t seen her since I was sentenced until last week I hadn’t talked to her longer than that.”

“Wow.  So we have a doctor in the family now?” Vince grinned.  “Are you two going to work it out?”

“I dunno, Dad.”  Bode said honestly.  “I miss her.  But all the time that we were apart is a lot to overcome.  Plus, I want to stay in Edgewater and be close to everybody again.  I don’t know if she’d be willing to move.”

“All you can do is ask Dr. Donovan what she wants.”  Vince said, purposely throwing in Bode’s fake last name.

“Telford.”  Bode corrected  “Doctor Telford.  She kept her maiden name.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before Manny called the inmates together to do some drills.

Vince went home and started searching the internet for Doctor Arizona Telford.  It wasn’t hard to find her and where she worked.  It just so happened that he was friends with the fire chief where Arizona lived.  It didn’t take much negotiating to get what he was after.

Vince took a deep breath and quickly dialed his cell phone before he lost his nerve.  He was surprised when the phone was answered after three rings.

“Arizona Telford?”  Vince asked.

“Speaking.”  She answered simply.

“We have a lot to catch up on.”  Vince replied.

______________________________________________________________

AN: If you want to be tagged, please let me know!

How do you think the conversation between Arizona and Vince is going to go?

Is he going to tell his wife and his son that he reached out to Bode's estranged wife?

[prolix-yuy]

I have never, ever asked anyone for an ask before so I don't know any of the rules for these things. For the pairing, can we ask for a pairing like Marcus Pike x Jack Daniels x Reader (cause Double Agents is a Mood™️ and a Vibe™️) or like either of those Singular x Reader.

And it's ME, so obviously I have to choose "CHAOS and order" as the topic. Chaos is my middle name after all.

Also please feel free to make this as explicit as possible. I mean, as you'd like.

If I did this wrong and I should change something let me know because like I said I've never done this before, so it is to YOU - Tumblr Crush Bestie - that I am losing my ask virginity. Seems fitting! 😉

Aynsley. Oh Aynsley. You come into my house and ask for filth? For chaos? To be as EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE?

I am happy to provide, my dear Tumblr Crush Bestie!

Sorry it's taken so gosh-darn long, these three were taking their sweet time figuring out the threesome twister game. I hope you enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader x Marcus Pike

Summary: If you said you didn't want what these two men have in store, you'd be a liar.

Word Count: 6.3k (YOU'RE WELCOME)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, m/m dynamics, mmf dynamics, breast play, biting, oral sex (m and f receiving), handjobs, brief rimming, use of anal plug, anal sex (m receiving), face sitting, PiV sex, everyone's bisexual, aftercare, dirty talking because I'm a slut for it.

Notes: I've been teasing this for so long and it's finally arrived! And I'm embodying the 'chaos' in the request by barely editing this. Should I have? Maybe. Will I deny us any of the filth these three get into? Absolutely not. Enjoy my lovelies!

The first time you lied you didn’t even know what you were doing. Barely speaking full sentences and you pushed a boy over in the playground. He was loud, mean, and you were so full of emotions your little body had to retaliate. But when the teacher came over and asked what happened, you lied.

“He fell.”

The boy was too embarrassed to admit it was you, ushered away by the teacher. And you basked in a new feeling that would grow to be your constant companion: the elation of getting away with it.

Now, much later in life, you’d perfected lying. You lied like you breathed. Tells well hidden, truths spread like jam on burnt bread, just enough to hide the taste. You didn’t want to be punished, or caught. It wasn’t about waiting for someone to call you out. Lying was a language you spoke fluently and without equal, and was a competition with only yourself as audience.

Take tonight, for example. You’d lied to your friends that you didn’t feel well enough to go out. You’d lied to the bartender about why you were here. You’d even lied to the Uber driver, who could care less why you were coming to a swank hotel bar this late at night. But that’s three unsuspecting participants and three more tallies on the invisible scoreboard. 

The truth, not that you’d ever say it, was that you were bored. Endlessly, achingly bored. If you had to listen to one more pregnancy story, or upcoming wedding plans, or theorize on whatever show everyone was watching this time, you might actually scream. So tonight you forewent the Mexican restaurant your friends love and came here.

The bar is lush in a way that makes you salivate. Burgundy velvet chairs flank dark leather Chesterfield couches, artfully arranged to create the illusion of privacy underneath the cathedral ceilings. Royal blue and black brocade wallpaper flanks you as you approach the bar, black walnut wrapped around a towering wall of liquor. The stools glint gold as you slide onto one, balancing delicately. It’s not until you put in your drink order and settle back that you see them.

Once you do, you’re not sure how they escaped your observation. Two men seated at a high top overlooking city lights, casually sipping from rocks glasses. One is clean shaven, short haired and neatly dressed. Corporate attire - a tidy suit, tie, crisp white shirt. His face is soft in the table’s candlelight, eyes crinkled in the corners enough to know he enjoys himself without reservation. 

The other man holds some of the same features - large hands swirling alcohol in his tumbler, dark hair and eyes, a broad build - but the similarities end with the confidence he’s exuding. His outfit is more cowboy chic, dark jeans and a gray suit jacket over a light pink shirt with a peek of suspenders under the lapel. His boots hook over a stool rung, tilted back as his companion leans forward. The smirk painting his face paired with his teasing eyes quirks a smile of your own. Definitely cocksure, and possibly for good reason if those tight jeans were anything to go by.

Then the cowboy reaches across the table and pinches the other man’s chin between his thick fingers, a softer look gracing his face. The other man flushes a light pink, eyes casting down as his smile turns bashful.

Suddenly you’re too hot, snapping your gaze back to your drink.

Not for you.

Not that you’d assumed either of them would turn their attention your way. They were both your type in a room with surprisingly few options, but the night is young, and your drink has barely been touched. You lift it to your lips for a small sip, letting the liquor burn in the way good sex can light you aflame (an experience you’d been low on lately) when a voice murmurs at your shoulder.

“Drinking alone?” 

The blushing companion is now at your elbow, respectful but close enough that it makes your skin tingle. He leans on the bar, nodding once to the bartender with a smile before redirecting his attention back to your purposefully neutral expression.

“For now,” you reply cryptically, taking a sip of your drink as you peek at him over the rim. His smile widens, a glint of teeth between soft, kissable lips. Shouldn’t have been fantasizing about a conquest tonight, now you’re too keyed in to a man who’s out of your league in several ways. 

“Would you like some company while you wait? My partner and I have a table,” he says as two glasses slide into his grasp. You shrug.

“My friends will be here soon.”

Liar.

“Of course. One drink.”

“Only one.”

Liar.

“As the lady wishes.”

One drink turns into two, your wits still about you but your attention pleasingly bewitched by the couple. Marcus, the one who approached, is an FBI agent specializing in art crimes, which you unabashedly question him about while the cowboy smirks in your periphery. 

“You can tell the difference between a fake and an original on sight?” 

Marcus chuckles into the rim of his glass, tongue peeking out to stop an errant drop. 

“Only the very bad ones. The good ones need analysis, imaging, carbon dating. But it’s amazing to see how far someone will go.”

His knee knocks into yours and remains there.

The cowboy’s name is Jack Daniels, which makes you scoff until he raises an eyebrow at you. He even works at a distillery, though he was a field agent in a past life. That’s how he and Marcus met, the mention exchanging fondness that makes you gaze into your own drink for distraction. He orders a round of Statesman as proof of his fine taste, and you have to agree it’s much better than the whiskey most men offer you as though you know nothing of liquor. 

He lifts his boot to catch on the low rung of your stool, opening the span of his thighs to you. If you didn’t know better you would think these two were…

“We have a question for you, darlin,” Jack says when the drinks run dry, pinning you with a smirk. You straighten your spine, chin lifted to pre-empt your refusal.

You didn’t want to see what these men might offer.

Liar.

“Marcus saw you come in and thought you were about the prettiest thing he’d laid eyes on. But I’m a little more discerning. I like women to be smarter than me.” You roll your eyes but he keeps on running that smooth Southern drawl. “Which you are. Clearly. So I’m gonna ask you this for the both of us, and it only goes for the both of us. Package deal.”

Your eyes dart between Jack and Marcus, observing their drastically different postures. Marcus is nervous, hands folded tightly in front of him, eyes locked on them as he worries at his lower lip. Jack, on the other hand, is a man negotiating a deal and has all the confidence in the world, though he’s tuned in to Marcus’ discomfort. You wonder briefly if this is how they work best, Jack taking the lead. The thought blares heat across your chest.

“What would you like to ask?” you reply cooly, even though your heart hammers so loud you’re sure they can hear it. It’s under control until Jack’s eyes flick down to your hand worrying at your glass. His gaze flits up - caught.

“We’d like to invite you up to our room,” Jack says simply, leaning back in his seat. Marcus finally tears his eyes from his hands and watches for your reaction. You smirk at them both.

“For a nightcap?” you ask innocently, but the dark humor that spreads over Jack’s face shakes your resolve.

“No, darlin, we’d like to invite you into our bed. If that’s favorable to you, of course,” Jack says, the game ping-ponging between you as Marcus watches. 

“I assumed I wasn’t your type,” you stall, interrogating yourself about the offer. Did you want to let them lead you away from here? 

You’re definitely not bored anymore. If anything you’re aching at the thought.

“You are,” Marcus interjects, pulling your attention from Jack’s intense stare. His face is open, eager, kind. He seems like the kind of man who wears soft sweaters and asks you how your day was and actually listens. What a pair they make. 

“I’d like to have an idea of what I’m getting myself into before agreeing to anything,” you say, but your voice is getting shakier by the minute. Marcus slides his hand across the table, fingertips lightly grazing the back of your hand. It’s grounding, comforting.

Electric.

“Safety for everyone, of course. Protection all around,” Jack says, speaking in a low voice that urges you to lean forward. It gives him the opportunity to graze his fingers along your thigh in a featherlight touch that burns you with arousal. “Marcus likes it when I take charge, but you’re our guest so whatever your comfort level is, we’ll respect. If you’d like to take a break or end it at any time, we stop.”

Then Jack leans in and destroys the final barriers between you and your decision.

“We both like to eat pussy, and will make you cum several times before fucking you. Marcus likes to be inside while I fuck him, but I’d like to feel you squeeze around me too. I won’t leave marks if you ask, but I like to use my mouth, and my teeth. Marcus wants to kiss you, often, and very thoroughly. He might be quiet now, but he’s vocal as hell when you get him riled up. I’m likely to never shut up unless my mouth’s busy.” 

Your breath is coming in quick pants now, Marcus’ fingers sliding along the back of your hand to open your fist and slip inside. Jack’s heavy hand on your thigh feels like all that’s keeping you held to the earth. Sensing your hesitation, Marcus leans in and breathes into your ear.

“Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You don’t hear your agreement over the rushing in your ears, but their twin smiles of satisfaction confirm it.

Staring into the mirror and psyching yourself up to leave the bathroom, you adjust your lingerie for the eighth time. Mauve lace clings to your breasts, your hips, just opaque enough to be pretty instead of lewd. In this moment you wish it was more exciting, more daring for these men who offered you a spot in their bed. How tame you must seem after all the bravado you showed in the bar.

You’re not ready for this.

Liar.

Gathering up your last bit of courage, you saunter into the hotel bedroom. You’d left Jack and Marcus there fully clothed, knowing smiles and the beginnings of flirty touches the last thing you’d seen. Now, you’re treated to a much more mouthwatering sight.

Jack is seated on the edge of the bed, jacket discarded and suspenders loose by his thighs. His shirt is messy and untucked, one final button around his stomach holding on for dear life after all the others abandoned their posts. His pants are open, and as you come to a stop you’re treated to Marcus’ deep groan as he swallows Jack’s cock to the base. His throat works as Jack tips his head back and sighs, hips gyrating a fraction against Marcus’ eager mouth. 

Fuck, it’s hot and drives a spike of arousal straight to your cunt. Marcus’ strong back, bare and rippling across Jack’s lap, begs for your fingers to dig into his meaty shoulders. You catch him palming at his crotch, big brown eyes opening to look up at Jack. He’s rewarded with thick fingers carding through his short brown hair, pulling back to breathe heavily on the tip of Jack’s cock before descending again.

“Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Jack rasps when you realize you’ve been staring too long. His hand extends to you, and for a moment you think it’s better to leave them to it. They clearly have history, and chemistry. You don’t belong here.

Liar.

You slide your hand into Jack’s, letting him lead you to sit beside him. Sinking into his side, he gives you the perfect view to look down at Marcus’ thorough deep-throating. His eyes drag up, and the hand gripping Jack’s thigh now comes to rest on yours. He’s firm but gentle, kneading the flesh there.

“I’d like to kiss you, sweetheart,” Jack whispers into the shell of your ear, dragging his lips just to your neck to press a featherlight kiss. You’re hesitant, but he lets you breathe against his mouth before leaning forward just enough to press your lips together. The wet mouth noises Marcus is choking out below you are a strange soundtrack to the sweetness of Jack’s kiss. He plies you with a few more, fuller, more forceful, before dragging his tongue over the seam of your lips. You part eagerly for him, meeting his full stroke with your quicker tongue. Jack groans into your mouth, the beginning of a smile curling against the corner of your lips. 

“Now him,” he says, leaning back and guiding your head down to Marcus. He slips off Jack’s wet cock, jutting thick and proud, and rises on his knees to take your head in his hands. There’s less hesitation here; you melt fully into Marcus’ kiss. Jack was right, Marcus kisses thoroughly, patiently, diving deep before pulling back to let you breathe. It builds a fire under your skin, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

Distantly you feel Jack’s thick fingers unclasp your bra, then his hands - callused in places that made you wonder if he was a real cowboy once - guide you to lay back on the bed. You part from Marcus with a small sigh, but Jack follows you down, the scrape of his mustache on your throat as he slips his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips. Settling on your back, Marcus’ hands slide under your knees and soon the smooth expanse of his back surges under your calves. 

“Look at this,” Marcus hums, stroking down your thighs. Jack hums in agreement as he slips your bra off, the cool air tightening your nipples. “Anything you don’t like, sweetheart?” Jack’s mouth distracts you as he blows across the swell of your breast, making your back arch at the sensation.

“No teeth,” you say, finally hazarding a look down your body at the men driving you to madness. Jack looks visibly disappointed, which makes you tug at his well-coiffed locks. “For him, not you.” Marcus breaks into a smile and honest-to-goodness chuckles between your legs, and Jack winks up at you before a slip of pink tongue wraps around your nipple. Any further instruction is wiped from your mind as you arch into the clever heat of his mouth, paired with the squeeze of his other hand around your neglected breast. His teeth graze your nipple, hips rolling involuntarily before getting pressed firmly into the bed.

“Can’t wait to taste this,” Marcus murmurs, and two fingers slide underneath the gusset of your panties, knuckles dragging through your folds. He leaves open-mouthed kisses below your bellybutton, dragging his nose down to smell you through the thin lace. You want so desperately to focus but so many hands pulling you apart so effortlessly has your eyes rolling up into your head and your body writhing. 

Finally, Marcus licks a wide path along your lacy slit as Jack rolls your nipple between his fingers and you keen out a desperate moan.

“Oh, baby, sounds like someone needs you to make her cum,” Jack teases into your neck, sliding his hand down and into your panties to tease your aching clit. Marcus is still licking along the lace, pressing his tongue at your entrance just enough that their touches light up every nerve carrying pleasure to your lust-soaked brain.

“Let me take these off you and get you all over my face,” Marcus purrs, lifting your hips to drag the last scrap of clothing off your body. They’re both still half-clothed and looking at you like a goddess draped across the bed, and it almost makes you balk.

Liar. It makes you even more excited.

Jack removes his fingers, sucking them into his mouth with a low hum while Marcus noses your inner thigh. You can’t stop your legs from trembling, but Marcus’ firm grip steadies you as he finally licks a slow path through your folds.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, arching into the pillows as Jack presses your hips back on the bed. 

“He’s good, ain’t he? Wicked tongue on him, and I swear he’s half fish, never needs to come up for air,” Jack teases, pressing his body against your side and stroking through Marcus’ short hair. He nips at your earlobe as Marcus begins lapping rhythmically at your entrance, his nose firm on your clit and his jaw bobbing against you. The waves of his tongue, the jolt of that hawkish nose, the dark pride simmering in his eyes as he watches you, all burn under your skin. Your orgasm is fast approaching, nipples tight and aching. Sliding your thumb over one, you coax the honey-sweet ache of arousal out against Marcus’ tongue. Jack notices and joins you, stroking his rougher ones over the sensitive buds. His cock ruts lazily against your hip, and you slide your hand around him to pump him in time with your rolling hips.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re so good,” he praises, sinking his teeth into the top of your breast just hard enough that prickles of pain pull you away from your heady arousal. It slams back into you the moment he releases the sensitive flesh, laving his tongue over the indents his teeth left behind.

“C’mon baby, that’s it, you’re so close,” Marcus encourages between your legs, lips barely leaving before doubling down. His whole head rocks against your cunt, long licks and drags of his lips and nose and chin through your messy sex. He must be coated in you, thick and tangy across his clean-shaven face. If Jack did the same, he’d carry you in that perfectly groomed mustache.

That image, Jack with his mustache dripping with your release, tightens your core as Marcus urges your hips to roll against him, chasing your orgasm frantically as he growls into your cunt. 

“Give it to me, baby, cum on my face, I know you have it right there for me, fucking give it to me. Cum on me. Cum on me now,” he orders, and with Jack’s whispered “He’s been so good, cum for him sweetheart,” you’re tightening around Marcus’ head and shaking through a fucking full-body orgasm. Faintly you hear Marcus chanting, “Yes, yes, that’s it baby, that’s it,” and Jack purring a diatribe of, “Good girl, you’re cumming so good for us, look at that, fucking gorgeous.” The room fades around the edges, the boys all you can focus on. Marcus’ eyes are shining with triumph, wiping his face as he beams up between your legs. Jack hovers over you, pride and sinful promise in his smile.

“That was a very good one, Marcus. Gonna give me a run for my money,” he says, stroking your cheek as you try to come back to the real world from your sky-high journey. The comforting warmth at your side fades as Jack sits up on the bed, tugging Marcus by his hair. Blearily you watch them kiss, tongues peeking out from their pressed lips as Jack tastes you on Marcus. He reaches down and deftly unbuttons Marcus’ pants, shoving everything down to reveal his weeping cock. Jack’s palms it, nodding to Marcus who leans over just enough to spit on his own cock before Jack gives him a few slow, firm strokes. You can tell how much Marcus is affected, mouth dropping into an O as his eyes drifting shut. Jack indulges him a few passes more before pulling a condom out of his pocket.

“Fill her up, pretty boy, she’s been so patient.”

You prop yourself up on shaky elbows as Marcus rolls the condom on, hazy gaze kindling the remains of your orgasm into a new possibility. He slots his hips between your thighs, crawling up your body to kiss you with the remains of your taste on his tongue. Jack stole most of it, but you can still relish in your tang.

“I want to fuck you, baby, can I? I’ll stretch you out good first,” he asks against your lips, the head of his cock resting just on your mound. He fists it and draws circles on your clit with the tip, your spine pulling tight up under him.

“Yes, Marcus, want you inside me,” you gasp, but before he fits his perfect cock inside he pumps two gloriously thick fingers into your cunt, stroking at your velvet soaked walls before curling them wickedly.

“So tight. Fuck, Jack, you’re gonna love this,” Marcus husks, scissoring his fingers and swirling his thumb over your sensitive clit. 

“Want to show her what you’ve been hiding, handsome?” Jack asks innocently, but you see goosebumps raise along Marcus’ arms and shoulders when the cowboy nips at his ear, winking at you. “Reach back here, darlin’, and feel,” Jack instructs as you follow the path of his hand around Marcus’ hip. He guides you to the smooth base of the plug in Marcus’ ass, making him shudder when you press your fingers against it.

“He’s been waiting all night for this, would you let me fuck him while he fucks you?” Jack asks. You trace a finger around Marcus’ stretched hole and he drops his head to your shoulder with a choked groan.

“You want that, Marcus? Want to fill me while Jack fills you?” His stuttering breath warms your neck as he nods. Reaching back, you prop yourself up with a couple pillows so you can better watch, your hands cupping Marcus’ face as Jack slowly works the plug out of him. When his mouth drops open you stroke your thumb along his bottom lip, pulling his attention from any discomfort back to you. Marcus empties out a sigh when Jack pulls the sensible black plug from him and places it on the bedside table. He returns with a slim bottle of lube that he dribbles onto his fingers.

“Now Marcus, I want you to put the tip in her and get yourself good and hard while I slide into your pert little ass. Once I’m in and you’re settled I’ll set the pace. Don’t want you hurting yourself.” The gentle instruction warms your skin as Jack smooths his hands over Marcus’ back and sides. He nods and you stroke your fingers through his hair reassuringly.

“You’re gonna feel so good inside me,” you say, circling your hips against his cock as he fists himself again. 

“You’re beautiful,” Marcus whispers, and as he wedges just the tip of his thick cock inside you he presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder. The shallow stretch makes your toes curl, one of Jack’s hands massaging your calf as his mouth smacks against Marcus’ spine.

“Ready?” he asks one last time.

“Yes, Jack, please…”

The litany of moans and gasps Marcus litters onto your skin lights your arousal further aflame as Jack curses and pushes in. You’re enraptured by the concentration on his face, the tick of his jaw and swipes of his tongue over his lower lip as he thrusts shallowly into Marcus’ tight channel. You can feel every jolt in your cunt when he presses Marcus just a little further forward, burying himself just a little deeper inside you. It’s slow as cold molasses and driving Marcus to bliss. When he begins backing up against Jack you stroke his back, and Jack’s larger hand covers yours.

“Fuck, feel so full,” Marcus manages to say, and Jack leans over to kiss along his shoulders. Your mouth is already at the juncture of his neck, and Jack meets your lips with his own. Marcus turns his head enough to kiss you behind your ear, and to catch the hinge of Jack’s sharp jaw with a scrape of teeth.

“Okay sweethearts, I’m gonna fuck you now. Slow to start. Get our rhythm.” Jack then pulls back and thrusts forward hard enough to bury the rest of Marcus’ length inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, Marcus already being guided back out before Jack fucks him back into you. “Oh holy shit, ohhhh fuck, yes, please, oh fuck it’s so good,” you moan brokenly, Marcus cupping your cheek and pressing his mouth to yours. You open for him, his tongue plunging into you as he pounds your cunt over and over again. The wet slaps are offset by the slick squelches of Jack’s cock fucking into Marcus, timing his thrusts just right to let you both feel every ridge and vein inside and around you. 

“Fuck, you both are so fucking hot,” Jack grits out, one hand gripping your hip, the other Marcus’, as he set a faster pace. Marcus drops to his elbows and rolls his hips harder, snapping into you and back onto Jack. The quiet moans he was hiding before erupt into full-throated shouts, which Jack muffles by shoving his fingers into Marcus’ mouth. He drools around them, and when his glazed eyes meet yours you lick the back of Jack’s knuckles and over Marcus’ lips.

“Filthy girl, knew you were,” Jack pants. “You close, handsome?” 

Marcus nods frantically, eyebrows pinching and fisting the sheets as he speeds up from Jack’s rhythm to chase his orgasm. Jack chuckles before folding over you both, crushing Marcus to your chest.

“I’ve got you, baby boy.” With that Jack pounds into you both, Marcus buried so deep you can feel Jack’s thrusts nudge him against your g-spot. You grip their hair, Jack’s eyes locking with yours as he growls through each thrust. 

“Call him a good boy, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Marcus, you’re so good for me, feel so good inside. Cum for me like a good boy, Marcus.”

That’s all it takes, and Marcus is howling into your neck as Jack grinds deep. His cock pulses heavily inside you, the force of his orgasm shivering through his limbs as they lock and release. Finally he lets go, slumping his full weight onto your chest. Jack kisses the back of his neck, fingers stroking down his arms and soothing him through the aftershocks.

“You’ve got a way with him, darlin’, he rarely cums that hard,” Jack coos, sliding his arms around Marcus to guide him off. Rolling him to his back, Jack peppers Marcus’ face with soft kisses as he weakly throws an arm around Jack’s back. His other hand searches for yours, twining your fingers together as he blinks sleepily between you both.

“Shit, that was amazing,” he croaks, sending Jack to the bathroom for a glass of water and to dispose of the condoms. “C’mere, wanna hold you,” he adds, tugging you to curl up against his side. His hands roam your back, nose pressed against your forehead as his rapid heartbeat begins to slow. It’s oddly romantic, happy to give and receive this moment of comfort. But you’re sure it’s the end of the night, and you’ll be fine going back home soon.

Liar.

“Now darlin’, as good of a time as it looks like you were having, I don’t think you came,” Jack says once Marcus has had a good long drink and settled back into the pillows. 

“I had plenty of fun,” you say lazily, stroking Marcus’ chest as it rises and falls. Jack tuts and shakes his head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Told you I wanted to eat your pussy too. Come sit on my face and let me give you another. Then, if you’re not too tired out, I’ll have you sit on my cock too.” 

Heat races over your body, and Marcus unwinds you from his arms. 

“Go on, gorgeous, Jack’s tongue is a treat you should never turn down,” he teases. “I’ll be along as soon as I catch my breath.”

Sitting up, you scoot closer to Jack as a strange nervousness settles in. Marcus is so open and easy to read, while Jack’s expressions always seem veiled behind a layer of showmanship and bravado. You find yourself worrying that you won’t be enough for him, for what he wants.

“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Jack interrupts your racing thoughts as he strokes his palm up your thigh. You shake your head, forcing a smile on.

“Nothing,” you say, your voice catching in your throat. Jack chews on his lower lip for a moment, then wraps his arms around your waist and guides you onto his lap. Straddling him, you hover as he pets your hips, smooths your back, and noses your neck with a gentle kiss along your collarbone.

“If it’s nerves, honey, then know that I have been looking forward to tasting, and fucking you all night. I want your tits in my mouth, your pussy, your tongue. I want to devour you, you’re so delicious.” He guides your hips down to press against his cock, hard and hot as he slips the soft skin against your wet folds. “You cannot possibly disappoint me, I could cum from your voice alone.” 

“Jack…” you breathe, and he leans back, pulling you along with him. Once flat on his back he guides your nipple into his mouth, humming indulgently as he teases the bud with his fast tongue and harsh sucks. You arch into his mouth, the length of his cock grinding against your clit. Switching to the other one, he nips lightly and chuckles when you jolt against him. His large hands paw at your ass, spreading your cheeks and kneading at the supple flesh. He cracks his hand against one with a sharp slap, soothing it with a stroke after. You’re dripping on him now, grinding along his length.

“Perfect, sweetheart, now climb up and put that hot little pussy on my face,” he orders, and all self-consciousness drips away as you climb up his body. Before you settle around his shoulders he taps your hip and guides you to swing around so you’re facing his neglected cock, hovering over his greedy mouth.

“Want your hand around my cock while I eat you out,” he says before pulling you down on his face. 

No matter the thorough fucking you just endured, Jack’s thick tongue sends a shudder up your spine, needing to grab his wrists. He hums into your folds, faster flicks than Marcus against your clit.

“I’m gonna drink you down, darlin’,” he purrs into your cunt, canting your hips so he can better seal his pouty lips around your clit. Falling forward, you loosely stroke Jack’s aching cock, throbbing with need after being denied his orgasm. Letting a dribble of spit drip onto his length, you slick him up to take a tighter grip. When your fingers glance over the ridge of his head his stomach tightens, hips rocking up to meet your strokes. 

“Your cock is gorgeous, Jack,” you praise, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the tip. The groan he lets out vibrates against your sex, eliciting your own pleasured sigh as he slips his tongue inside you.

“He’s very good at using it,” Marcus says just next to your shoulder, sliding off the bed to kneel between Jack’s knees. He replaces your hand on Jack’s cock, urging you to sit back up on Jack’s face. He worships your breasts with soft sucks and nibbles, working you both up higher and higher. You can feel Jack’s movements getting sloppier, distracted gasps bursting between your legs when he takes a moment to bask in his own pleasure. You weave your hands into Marcus’ hair, scratching along his scalp as he kisses his way up your neck and back to your waiting mouth. 

“Mmm, sweetheart he’s not gonna last much longer, and I know he wants to cum in you too. Let me wrap him up and then you can fuck his cock.” Marcus takes a moment to tear open a condom as you shuffle down Jack’s body. His mouth leaves you with a parting lick to your back entrance, the ticklish sensation making you giggle and scratch your nails down his flexing stomach. When you’re hovering over his cock, Marcus’ hand on the base guiding Jack in, he sits up behind you. 

“Most beautiful thing I’ll ever get to experience,” Jack murmurs, plastering his chest to your back and wrapping his arms around you. He guides you down as Marcus steadies him in, filling you so differently but so completely. 

“Fuck, Jack, you feel amazing,” you croon, head thrown back against his shoulder. Marcus lifts up on his knees to kiss Jack, clever fingers petting at your clit as you lift up just enough to let Jack feel the drag of your tight cunt, then back down to his base to elicit a wanton groan.

“Darlin’, you feel like heaven. Don’t know how Marcus didn’t bust immediately.” Marcus nips his Adam’s apple and switches to mouthing at your throat, both of their lips dancing along the expanse of your sweat-slicked skin. Sandwiched between them, the slide of their bodies against yours is addictive, intoxicating, endless in the pleasure it brings. Your cunt clenches around Jack, and he chuckles darkly in your ear before snapping his hips up into you.

“There’s my good girl, so tight around me. I’m gonna fuck you as hard and long as I can, but fuck me if you don’t feel like the best thing I’ve ever put my cock in.” Jack grabs the back of Marcus’ head and pulls him back to meet eyes. “Lick her clit, pretty boy.”

You didn’t think your arousal could climb any higher, but looking down to see Jack’s length sliding in and out of you paired with Marcus sinking down to lick a stripe from the base of Jack’s cock to your clit almost kills you. Marcus’ boyish smile would be your gravestone if you didn’t remember to breathe.

“Holy fuck,” you choke out as he lays out his thick pink tongue to stroke over and over along your joined bodies.

“Damn right, you’re doing so good for us Marcus,” Jack grits out, pulling you down on his fat cock so you don’t bounce away from Marcus’ talented tongue.

“Could do better,” Marcus says thoughtfully, reaching for the bottle of lube. Slicking up his fingers, he slides his hand down to tease Jack’s rim.

“Fuck, baby, you know how I like that,” Jack groans, bringing a wicked smile to Marcus’ face. Kissing your mound, Jack tenses hard under you with a broken gasp. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck, yes baby, that’s fucking perfect, you keep your fingers right there while I cum in her. Just like that, sweet boy.”

Leaning down you grab Marcus by the jaw and devour him, teeth clacking briefly as you fill his mouth with your tongue. He whimpers below you before you part, lips spit-slicked and slacked.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart, Marcus you better…” Jack threatens but Marcus is already latching his mouth onto your clit, sucking hard and fast while his fingers flex inside Jack. The relentless grind against your g-spot, the ruthless pressure on your clit, the overwhelming ache that can’t build anymore before it needs to go somewhere washes over you, and you cum with a wail on these two gorgeous men. Jack follows as your walls flutter around him, with a litany of, “That’s it baby, your pussy’s so fucking good, I’m…oh shit, I’m cumming, M-Marcus baby don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop, oh shiiiiii…” You faintly wonder if Marcus came again before a spurt of hot cum against your calf answers your question.

The silence that follows, filled with gasps and panting and weak hands on skin, is the moment you dread. It’s the last moment before the peace and quiet in your mind fades, urging you to gather up your clothes and go before you say something or do something that will ruin this. But with Marcus wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder, and Jack pressed against your back, you have no place to go. 

“Thank you, darlin’, that was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, wouldn’t you agree?” Jack says, pressing a line of kisses from behind your ear to the curve of your shoulder. Marcus leans back and thumbs your chin, tired eyes and a loose smile.

“Definitely. Can we take care of you now, sweetheart?” 

Your eyebrows must have pulled up into a frown, because Marcus chuckles just a little and cradles your head.

“What, you thought we’d fuck you and make you leave?” he teases, and you have to school your face carefully. You didn’t expect them to be this caring, or kind.

Liar.

Then you didn’t expect them to want more than your body once they were through.

Liar.

Then what did you expect?

Marcus thankfully speaks, similar to that that soothing way Jack enticed you here.

“Well then, I’m going to take you into the shower to clean you up, and Jack’s gonna make the bed and join us after. Once we’re clean and hydrated, I’m going to put on The Thin Man and we’re going to get into bed together. If you’re not comfortable spending the night, I understand. But I - we - want you to. Not just because tomorrow morning I want to wake you up with both of our heads between your legs.” Jack slides out of you and holds you in his arms, nuzzling into the back of your neck. 

“I don’t…” you try to say, both men waiting patiently. “I didn’t expect this. I don’t know what to do now.”

Liar.

You know exactly what to do. 

Stay.

Marcus’ lopsided smile and Jack’s pressed into your skin are promises you never asked for, but would gladly accept.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

END