#i will NEVER stop complaining but jesus christ

[firstkanaphans]

RE your tags on the bromance thing - I think I allowed myself to get a little panicky earlier when seeing a few people talk about there potentially being more, and whilst there are a few points made that I can understand, I do feel like the amount of worry I’m seeing it maybe a little preemptive?

Like, I do agree that it feels stupid to put TayNew in a bromance series; if they wanted two actors that are close & have worked together before, why not Tay and Off or New and Gun or something? BUT I did see that Tay and New actually wanted to do a bromance series together, so there’s part of me thinking that this was THEIR choice to do this series and not give it to some other actors. (And let’s be fair, I don’t think there’s anyone else who could have made this show so warm, angsty, and lovely.)

I feel like GMMTV has really been embracing their BLs a bit more if I’m honest, and sure, they do queer baiting in their non-queer shows, but who doesn’t? You can watch anything on Netflix or whatever and find ‘bromances’ that are severe queer baiting.

I kinda feel like sometimes people pile on GMMTV a bit much, all because they’re kinda like the biggest company in the drama community that does decent queer dramas? I don’t know if that’s just me being blind to their flaws, but I sometimes think they get a little more hate than other production companies and not always deservedly? (I mean I know they aren’t perfect and I call out their bullshit myself, but I feel like sometimes it’s ‘cool’ to hate on them?)

Sorry if none of this makes sense and I’m rambling - it’s almost 2am and I really need to sleep 🤣

In my opinion, these claims that GMMTV is going to pivot to bromances because they’re less gay and more profitable are absolutely baseless. Bromances are not new to GMMTV. They’re not even new to TayNew as I believe I’m Tee, Me Too was a bromance as well. Like you said, P’Dome explicitly stated that TayNew wanted to film a show together that was not a BL. Should they not be able to? And weren’t these same people complaining just days ago that CPs are never allowed to act outside of their CP? Now, they’re mad when they do.

What people are losing their marbles over is literally just the cast and crew having a good time with the fans. Did they play into the shipping aspect both onscreen and off? Of course they did! What writer worth their salt would have passed up such a perfect opportunity? But to me, it didn’t feel malicious. It felt like P’Dome was just having fun and giving Polcas a little nod. I almost feel like it would have been more strange if he hadn’t.

People certainly don’t have to like bromances, but it’s like We Are all over again where people were saying its very existence was indicative of the fall of the genre as we know it. And that’s just utterly ridiculous. This isn’t a queer story where the queerness was censored. In fact, there were explicit queer themes throughout. This is just a platonic love story and a lot of people who may not be interested in romantic relationships have found immense value in that.

Like I said in my tags, P’Aof is the Director of Content Production at GMMTV, meaning he is literally the one in charge of what content is being produced, and I’m choosing to trust the gay Thai man who has dedicated his career to this. He has such a passion for telling queer stories. Why would he stop now?

But like you said, it’s become hip to hate on GMMTV. And look, I don’t like corporations either, but let’s not pretend like GMMTV isn’t really fucking gay. Because they are. This is not a company that has ever shied away from explicitly queer content and is actually making more of it than ever before, so I’m not going to fault them for adding a few shows for the straights too. And if they have to make het stuff, I would much rather sit through a bromance than anything else.

I mean Jesus Christ. Peaceful Property was fun. I had fun. And it was also really good—easily my favorite offering from GMMTV all year—so if they want to make a hundred more bromances just like this, I’m certainly not going to complain about it. Some people just don’t want to enjoy anything.

(And go to sleep, Pip! It’s late 😂)

[leafsboys]

I seriously cannot do this night after night... hockey should be fun and not exhausting when you're so frustrated that HALF of your team is UNPLAYABLE

[kireoppi]

i hate how most of what i deal with is probably major enough to not be 'normal', but minor enough to be unable to either fit a label or be too much of a problem to the point my parents wont take me to the doctor to see what the hell is up with my body.

i cant breathe all that well? im just out of breath, even if from nothing at all. its not like youre suffocating, you should be fine. it hurts to lay down and roll over/move? its probably just your posture or youre most likely just sore, itll go away tomorrow (spoiler, it wont!). at least you can even move. the lights are too bright and my head and body hurt? its fine! you can handle it, like you did in the past. i get told im being dramatic, im not. sometimes it hurts to even write or lift my phone up, do you think i want to be like this? why would i?

i dont want to have people help wear my shoes for me at this age because it hurts when i bend down. i had a meltdown just from the discomfort of sitting up straight in class for a long period of time. i cant even crane my neck the fuck up or slighly move my body to the side without the stabbing pain being present. why the absolute fuck would i say this if i dont mean it? this isnt fun. please for once just dont be an asshole and listen to me.

[necromancer-nonbinary]

the doctor had better order a refill on my buproprion the Second my appointment ends this week because this is getting STUPID

[reidrum]

i cannot stop thinking about reader giving jesus hair spencer a blowjob, and him using the hair tie he keeps on his wrist to put her hair up

hair tie | s.r

a/n: hey so this made me insane. also i wrote this really fast if it seems rushed that’s why. may we all be manhandled by jesus reid in the near future amen

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, blowjob, softdom!spence lowkey, reader has hair long enough to be tied up, can be read as gn!reader but lmk if i missed something!

wc: 888

——————————————————————————

spencer’s long hair was definitely a choice. he grew it out to his shoulders purely because he couldn’t make it to a barber, and simply because he didn’t really care. it did become a hassle when he’d be hunched over his desk finishing reports and strands of hair would fall forward and obstruct his eyesight.

he found that he would waste so much time when he paused to push his hair behind his ears (two minutes and thirty seconds slower, he counted). he’d come home to you and complain wondering how all women dealt with the long hair if it just always flew in front of them. how did you get anything done?

then one day when spencer came home from work, you had a small surprise for him. a pack of 100 black hairties.

“so you can just put your hair up in a little pony or man bun and keep working!” you’d exclaimed.

he was so endeared by the gesture, he rarely ever tied his hair up but he never left the house without a hair tie on his wrist. he liked having the option if he needed it, plus it always reminded him of you when he saw it.

the few times he’s used it are during intense heat waves in dc, when he’s dealing with toxic chemicals and such, and when he’s with you.

when he goes down on you, his hair would never stay in place. and it irked him to have to remove his fingers from you in order to fix it. you found it so hot though. he was deathly hot, but he really didn’t understand what it did to you when he was on his knees tying his hair up for you.

until it happened to him, of course.

he had come home from work, tired from the day at the office. you led him to the couch and told him to sit and relax while you took care of him. he spreads his legs open and leans back onto the couch, his arms fanning outwards to rest on the ledge, “you’re too good to me, baby.”

you were down on him, moving your head and back and forth on his length. you traced the underside vein with your tongue, getting as much as you could down your throat. the sight of you dribbling spit all over his cock sent him into another orbit. it was messy, lewd, and outright fucking hot.

but that hair of yours kept falling down your cheeks and blocked the beautiful view of him fucking your mouth. he rakes his hands through your hair, but as much as he could hold it on his own, your ministrations were too good for him to keep a good grip on it.

in a haste move, he removes his hands and you look up at him in confusion at the loss of contact. you watch intently as he rolls the hair tie off his sleeve, the one that you got him, and watch him tie your hair up in a haphazard ponytail.

jesus fucking christ.

you whimper at the gesture, overwhelmed by the feeling of him tying your hair up. he feels you falter for a second, before you raise both hands to the remaining of his cock that didn’t fit in your mouth and hollow your cheeks out.

“fuck, angel, that’s so good—oh my god,” he mewls, “you like it when i tie your hair up? like when i—shit— use my own hair tie on you?”

you moan around his cock, sending vibrations throughout his body which he responded with a long groan, “bet you didn’t think this is what i’d use the hair ties for huh?”

he stares down at your face, tears streaming down both sides as you keep him in your mouth, as he twirls the ponytail in his big hand and tugs.

“baby, oh my god, fuck i’m gonna come.” he lets out, and soon he releases himself into your mouth as you swallow every last drop. you pull your mouth off his cock, leaning your cheek on his inner thigh as you stare up at him trying to catch your breath.

“holy shit.” you breathe out.

he laughs, “holy shit is right,” he strokes your hair gently, “was it actually hot when i tied your hair up?”

you look at him incredulously, “are you joking? the fact that i bought it for you to use, that you keep it on your wrist all the time, and that you used it on me when i was sucking you off, i could outcompete the sun right now.”

he pulls you off your knees to sit on his lap on the couch, “i’ll make note of that, my love,” he softly kisses you. cuddling further into his chest, you both end up falling asleep on the couch tangled all up in each other.

later down the line, spencer realizes that those cheap black hair ties aren’t all that great. they break easily and he finds it pulled out his hair, and probably your hair, a lot.

to solve this, spencer buys a pack of baby pink scrunchies that he keeps on his wrist at all times. he read somewhere they’re easier on the scalp. morgan makes fun of him for it, and while spencer rarely uses the scrunchies for himself, looking at the pink on his wrist always made his cock twitch a little no matter where he was.

[roosterforme]

Sugar and Lace | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley had a hot wife. He went wild for you in your work clothes and his worn out shirts. You didn't need any bells and whistles to look sexy, and you never would. But now that he knew what you looked like in a little lace, he needed to have that version of you, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, drinking

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Check out my masterlist

Bradley looked at Jake over his beer, and Jake looked right back at him. The Hard Deck was virtually empty this early on a Saturday in the middle of the blazing summer heatwave, leaving the two of them very much alone together with their drinks.

"So..." Bradley said, tracing a line through the condensation on his half empty bottle. It wasn't that he disliked Jake. Not really. But he didn't know how many times he could be coerced into hanging out with him for the sake of you having a 'girls day'. It wasn't like he could complain about work to the person who annoyed the shit out of him at work yesterday.

"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"

Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.

"That's obviously what they are out shopping for," Jake drawled, handing the empties to Penny as she dropped off fresh beers. Bradley waved two fingers in a half-hearted salute and then glared at Jake as he added, "Jessica specifically asked your wife to go with her. She told me she's picking out some things for the honeymoon, and you and I both know what that means. They are trying on lingerie." His smirk was back. "Together."

Bradley swallowed hard, digging his fist into his thigh. His teeth were clenched as he said, "Stop picturing my wife in lingerie."

All he got was a jovial laugh in response. "Tell me right now to my face that you're not picturing both of them wearing something tight, cropped and lacy, and I'll stop."

Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"

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

You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once. 

Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.

"Try something on," Jessica suggested gently, and you took a step closer to your pile. "Then you'll get a better idea of what you like." 

There was red, green, black, white and pink fabric. There were nightgowns, thongs, bralettes and stockings. When you reached your hand out, you hesitated, confidence wavering. This seemed a lot more challenging than solving a linear algebra matrix.

Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"

The two of you already agreed to help each other make selections, and the last thing you wanted was to keep opening the door so everyone else could see you wearing this stuff. "No. It's not that. I just... don't really own anything like this. I mean, I have a few things, but some of this is elaborate." You glanced at her over your shoulder and winced. "And this was supposed to be a shopping trip for you! For your honeymoon! Not for me."

She shushed you and then reached into your pile and pulled out a fairly innocuous looking nightie in a soft champagne color. "Start with this. Then you'll see how hot you look, and it'll be a gateway drug to you starting your own collection that will rival mine."

"I've seen your closet," you muttered, taking the hanger from her and holding the garment up in front of your body. It was pretty. The color even complimented your hair. It was a far cry from what you usually wore to bed, but you'd give it a shot.

When you started to undress, Jessica turned around and played with her phone, which you did appreciate. All of your bumps and lumps would be on display soon enough anyway, but at least you'd have a minute to straighten yourself out. The fabric was cool and slick against your skin, and you shivered as it settled high on your thighs. When you looked in the mirror and turned, you were pleasantly surprised with the result.

"It's not bad," you said, and she looked up and gasped, green eyes wide.

"It's perfect!"

"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, smoothing your hands along your sides.

"Well, I would. And I'm sure Bradley would, too. Do you want me to take a picture on your phone?" she asked, and you nodded while she posed you with one hand on your hip. "Like I said, perfect," she muttered as she took the photo and then set your phone down again. "Try on something else."

"Okay," you whispered, reaching blindly into your pile and pulling out a black lace corset top.

Jessica jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "I love that one. I picked one up to try it on, too."

"I don't know about this," you said, holding it up in front of the nightie. "Not sure how Beer Boy is going to like it."

"You won't know until you try it on."

With those words of wisdom, you changed from the nightie to the corset, and your immediate thought was how cute this would look under your sweaters and tweed when you were at work. And it would feel amazing. It was snug and sexy, and somehow you felt like you could kick even more ass at work if you were wearing this thing.

"What the hell?" you whispered, and Jessica turned to look at you, clapping her hands once again. "I feel like I have super powers."

"Because you do! Look at you! Please let me take another picture of you to send to Bradley."

This time you posed yourself and turned so your tattoos were visible through the lace cutout on the side. Then you stood there and admired yourself before saying, "I'm definitely buying this. Catch me wearing it to work under my cardigans in the fall."

Jessica started digging into her own pile now as you changed from the corset into a bodysuit, but when she met your eyes in the mirror, she looked like she was going to freak out.

"What?" you asked. "The bodysuit looks that bad?"

She shook her head, and pressed her lips together before almost shouting, "When were you going to tell me you have a math tattoo?"

"Oh," you replied, not sure you'd ever heard her voice reach that octave before. "Euler's Identity? I've had it since I was nineteen."

"I love how you embrace your inner nerd," she said as if she was in awe of you, and you started laughing which made her laugh. "Now send those pictures to your husband and let that man worship you."

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

Bradley had just buried his face in his hands while Jake laughed when his phone went off. You hadn't even bothered to inform him that your little 'girls day outing' was a quest to make sure Jake enjoyed his honeymoon with Jessica. Honestly, Bradley kind of hoped the other man was correct in his assessment that you'd be shopping for something for yourself, too. Not that you needed it. Holy shit, you still looked like the girl he fell in love with over a decade ago whenever you wore his old Grateful Dead shirt or his robe around the house.

But now he wanted something special, too. Why should Jake get to have all the fun when it came to having his partner all wrapped up in a pretty package that was specifically meant to be removed?

"Sugar," he grunted when he saw that you'd texted him. Jake was rambling about something across the table, but Bradley couldn't hear him. He could no longer hear anything. He couldn't process thoughts or form words. All he could do was stare at the two photos you'd sent to him. "Oh, fuck."

In the first one, you were wearing a shimmery light gold colored thing that looked soft. Like maybe almost as soft as your skin. His heart hammered up into his ears as he examined every inch of it on your curves. Your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, and he could practically feel them between his lips. When he swiped to look at the second one, he abruptly stood from his stool with his phone gripped tight in his hand, eyes bugging out.

"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.

Instead of verbally responding, Bradley made sure his phone was tipped away from Jake as he zoomed in for a closer look. Holy hell. Your tits were being pushed up in the sexiest black lace he had ever seen. It was sinful, and now he was imagining you wearing it under one of your tweed blazers while giving a lecture. He swallowed hard, realizing he could see the tiniest bit of your tattoos through the little cutout on the side, and he actually whimpered.

"Yeah... she definitely sent you photos," Jake murmured as his own phone chimed. "Oh, Jess just sent me five."

"How did you get five?" Bradley complained, swiping back and forth, desperately looking for more. "I only got two!" 

It was then that he noticed you texted him after you sent the pictures.

What do you think, Beer Boy?

Bradley laughed a bit maniacally. What did he think about the lingerie? Ha! He could barely think at all! He paced back and forth a bit, sweating as he wrote back.

You look fucking hot as hell, Sugar. If you don't bring that black top home, I think you'll break my heart.

Bradley cringed, because now Jake was the one who was whimpering. "They're sharing a fitting room," he whispered, and Bradley's eyes went wide with the realization that Jessica must have taken the photos for you. Then his eyes narrowed as he reached for Jake's phone.

"You better not be able to see Sugar in any of the pictures!"

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

You and Jessica were wearing matching fluffy robes and sorting through everything you'd already tried on.

"You have to get that thing," you told her, pointing to the garters and stockings. "It fits you like a glove."

She nodded and added it to her 'yes' pile. "And you have to get the thong and bustier," she replied.

"I'm already buying four things," you reminded her. The bustier was nice, and your breasts looked good in it, but you didn't love the color very much. Besides, there was one last thing you hadn't tried on for fear of looking or feeling ridiculous, but there was a part of your brain that just knew your husband would love it.

"Missed one!" Jessica said, pulling on the bright pink fabric like she could read your mind. Always the best cheerleader, she held it up in front of your body and nodded. "It's bold, but I think you can pull it off."

You took it from her, but looked at yourself skeptically in the mirror. "I don't know... it's going to look bad. Like I'm trying too hard. I don't know why I even picked it up."

But you did know. Bradley was attracted to you in that dumb tie dye shirt like you were some sort of exotic bird whenever you put it on. All of the bright colors swirled into something that just lured him right to you. Part of it was nostalgia, sure, but you felt like there was something more as well.

"Actually, I do know why I picked it up," you told Jessica, holding the chemise closer to yourself. "Bradley really likes it when I wear his old shirt that I kind of held hostage for ten years. It's vibrant and bright, and I think this is the sort of thing he might enjoy?" You pursed your lips and sighed. "But, maybe I'm wrong, because he also just seems to like me how I am. No frills, you know? He's always been that way."

Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."

"You're right."

Once you were out of the robe, you pulled the stretchy lace over your body, and gaped at the deep neckline as Jessica tied the satin ribbons around the back of your neck. You hadn't noticed before, but there were some yellow and orange threads woven in, making delicate swirls in the fabric. Almost like a different kind of tie dye. It actually looked stunning on you, and as you turned from side to side, you already knew you had to have it.

"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"

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

Bradley was lightheaded. He sweat through his shirt, and he had his forehead cradled in his hand as he opened three photos of you wearing something so bright and pink and sexy, he wanted to lick it off of you. Everything was covered up, but barely. In the one shot, he could almost see your ass. In another, he could definitely see your pert nipples. In the other one, he could make out part of your titty tattoos.

It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word. 

Bradley had been crazy about you for so long, and most of the appeal came from how smart you are and the fact that you weren't fussy. You let him dote on you in your work outfits. You wore his clothing around the house. You didn't need all the bells and whistles to be sexy, and you never would.

But now that he knew exactly what you looked like in black satin and colorful lace, he needed to have that version of you, too. He needed it.

"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"

Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.

"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."

"Hey, boys!"

Bradley turned in time to toss Jake's phone aside as Jessica headed through the nearly empty bar with you following behind her. There were two enormous shopping bags in your hands, and you had a smile on your face as you asked, "Ready to go home, Beer Boy?"

"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"

His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."

Bradley started guiding you to the door. "Yeah. We're going home. Right now." He ran his nose along your cheek and gave you one more sweet kiss before shouting over his shoulder, "Thanks for the beers, Bagman. Oh, and Jessica, I need you to crop your photos better next time you take my wife shopping."

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

I love Beer Boy for making Sugar feel so good about herself every day. She's a badass, and he knows it. I wrote this as a little wedding treat for @je-suis-prest-rachel Congratulations, Rachel! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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[sorrowfulrosebud]

Katsuki fumbled as the heavy wooden door of your mansion was nearly slammed in his face, you being the cause. Your infuriated strides didn’t stop as you reached the kitchen.

Katsuki felt his eyes burn and bile rise in his throat as he tried desperately to reach you.

“Baby, please! It was one time, and I didn’t even kiss her-,” he rambles worriedly, taking a step aback as you turn around.

Your eyes held nothing but pure fire and pain.

“Oh my FUCKING GOD Katsuki! You didn’t kiss her?! Oh that’s just wonderful, I totally forgive you for going behind my FUCKING BACK and fucking other women! That makes everything okay now!” You cry? Laugh? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Katsuki winces at your tears, pearly streaks of his own staining his cheeks. He reaches for you, heart breaking when you flinch away from him.

“Baby-,” he starts.

“Don’t you fucking DARE call me that you disloyal bastard,” you sob.

“I gave you my EVERYTHING, you son of a bitch! The nights I spent slaving over that fucking stove so YOU wouldn’t go hungry! I broke my back cleaning this fucking house, I give up my social life so we can be together, I bust my fucking ass doing stuff in bed I don’t want to do, ALL FOR YOU! I gave you EVERYTHING! So don’t you fucking dare try and have some balls now.” You sob through gritted teeth.

Katsuki sinks to his knees, openly sobbing and grabbing your hands. You tried forcing them back, but his grip was relentless. He pressed tearful kisses to your hands, amplifying your pained sobs.

“(Y/N), please! It was the worst mistake of my entire fucking life, of OUR lives. It was an act of stupidity, and if I could go back in time I would kill past me for even looking at her. It’s YOU I love, not her. It’s you, it’s always been you,” he gasped for breath, looking up at you. You paused.

“AAAAAAAND CUT! That was a great take everyone, go grab some lunch and be back in an hour to continue the shoot,” the director shouts, hopping off his pedestal.

You wiped your tears off, cursing the added tear stick as you laughed.

“Jesus Christ, that was a rough scene. How are you, baby?” You look down at him. Your smile was warm, a complete contrast to the character in the series you were acting in. Katsuki made no move to wipe his tears.

He rose slowly, before wrapping his arms around you tightly. He sniffled as he held you as close as possible, kissing the side of your face.

“Baby, are you alright? It was just a scene!” You giggle, kissing him on the forehead.

“If I ever make you sad like that, I need you to kill me. I would rather die than make you cry the way you just did,” he sniffed, wiping his nose and holding your cheeks.

“Aw sweetie. I know you’d never cheat on me. I love you so, so, so much. I guess we just did too good a job acting,” you giggle. You pull him in closer for a kiss, wiping his tears and playing with his baby hairs.

“I love you so much. Never ever forget that,” he says firmly. You nod, before squeezing out of his grip and tapping his ass playfully.

“Of course angel, now let’s get lunch. Sato made enchiladas and I’m craving them so badly,” you kiss him again. Katsuki’s phone beeped, and he checked before grimacing slightly.

“I’ll be right there babe, Eijiro’s complaining about something,” he says, squeezing your sides and sending you off.

You’re so fucking right, baby. He thought. His chest bloomed in pain. Ochaco’s bunched up tits stared right back at him in picture form, taunting him.

I did too good of an acting job.

[bigwishes]

Hope you're doing well. Just wanted to ask the genie for one wish... to swap bodies with my dumb sweaty bear of a roommate. We couldn't be more different, I'm a clean twink-ish comp sci major and I don't even know what he's majoring in cause all he does is eat, game, and work out. I complain about his lifestyle but secretly... I'm jealous. Jealous of how little he cares about grades or hygiene. Only caring about muscles and sports. I just want to know what it'd be like to be in his shoes for once even for a day. Then he'd be the one complaining to me about how much the house stinks and I'd be the one without a care in the world.

Took me a while to even see this one, but sure your wish is my command a big muscled sweaty bear who stinks? easy enough. first you start with your muscle mass, slowly pumping up, splitting through your shirt, growing more and more by the second, you can't help but flex and worship yourself as your muscles expand to freakish proportions.

its almost impossible for you to keep your hands off yourself as you moan in pleasure wanting more, to grow bigger, to get bigger,

soon a thick beard starts to grow from your jawline making you look like a beefed up lumberjack who works out non stop. A potent BO fills the room as your pits grow damp and start to stink, sweat drips down from them trailing your lats making you look like you just finished a workout.

You feel heavy trying to haul around your big muscular body, which doesnt help with the sweat, each step is an effort in itself causing you to sweat. You feel the fabric of your underwear strain and get wet around your groin and in between your ass as your body over produces sweat.

You begin to huff, each movement you perform leaving you out of breath. As you sit down the the couch to take a break you feel the cold wetness as the fabric absorbs your sweat.

A moment of peace passes as you try and catch your breath then your stomach growls. You do remember you wished to be a bear? six pack abs aren't very fitting.

You gut grows tight and you moan in pain as it growls, before long it starts to puff forward, looking bloated before shortly being covered in a layer of fat and hair.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP

you belch without warning, the powerful smell of protein feels the room and you look down to see the new you.

Big and Bulky are the words that best describe you now. A giant bodybuilder covered in a winter layer of fat, a true muscle bear.

Suddenly your door swings open as your roommate walks in. You expected to see the beast you'd gotten used to living with but instead a clean cut jock walked through the door carrying a pizza, protein shake and a box of chocolate muffins. You threw them down on the coffee table in front of you.

"got you what you asked for dude" instantly without saying thanks, your dove for the food alternating between shoving multiple slices of pizza in your mouth and chugging the protein shake, the shake dripped down the side of your lips and ran onto your chest.

"god how do you live like this you freak"

Hearing his words made your ears perk up, but not enough for you to stop eating.

"you are such a fucking slob dude"

You dick suddenly became hard hearing him insult you.

"and your fucking reek, jesus christ, you eat like a monster, stink like 40 gyms combined and have such a grotesque amount of muscle on your body"

Instantly you blew your load into your underwear hearing him talking about how much of a fucking slob you are.

You'd never felt so turned on, being so big, being so hungry, being humiliated by such a hot guy.

you had forgotten you even made a wish to begin with, and were ready to spend your life as a beasty bear.

BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

[r0se1111]

Can't stop thinking about being Ford's assistant and you're there when Stan shows up and the portal mess happens... you just lost your best friend, and sure his brother might be a bit weird but dammit you are not leaving this weird little town until Ford is back! So you and Stan work together and live together trying to get him back... you eventually agree with his whole "Mystery Shack" business and fall into a sort of strange but comfortable domesticity.

You teach him about interdimensional physics and quantum engineering, and he teaches you how to be a better liar and how to mark up prices just enough that people don't complain. The two of you get greasy meals at midnight in grimy 24/7 diners after hours of trying to decipher Ford's journals... you take long car rides listening to the fuzzy radio... you watch shitty TV together and who really minds if his arm finds its way around your shoulder, or if his hand wanders a little too close to your thigh to be considered platonic. It's really not a big deal you tell yourself, if you find his over-the-top 'Mr. Mystery' act more endearing than annoying, and if the wall between your two rooms seems a bit too thick some nights.

And well, it's just natural that you two get married a few years down the line because "Mr. Mystery needs a Mrs. Mystery... just think of all the merchandise we could sell!" and if Stan blushes when he sees you in your thrifted white dress on the way to the local courthouse- well he's never seen me dressed up, that's all- and if the rings you exchange are definitely more than you two can really afford but no less meaningful, you don't blink an eye.

It's not until 30 years later and the twins have come into your life, between Mabel's puppies-and-rainbows attitude towards love, more specifically the love she swears to see between you and Stan, as well as watching the man bond in an almost fatherly way to Dipper (who reminds you so much of Ford it hurts sometimes) that you begin to reevaluate your guys' relationship. The little touches, the playful flirting, the hours spent in each other's company. What once was a marriage of convenience, a relationship which you could swear was just two good friends, now is subject to your critical review as you shakily realize. Shit. I'm in love.

Before you can figure out how to tell your husband of 30 years you're in love with him, ta-da Ford is back! He's shocked to find that his brash brother and quiet assistant are now married, and after watching your interactions for a few days assumes it is a marriage of love. It's not until you ramble to him in a panic that you "have feelings for Stan and probably have since you'd first met him but we only got married for practicality and he probably doesn't see me like that and we just flirt for fun and he's your brother what do I do??"that Ford sighs heavily and in true annoying brother fashion, forces the two of you to confront each other.

I bet you didn't see this coming reader, but ofc Stan returns your feelings with a sort of blinking awe. He's torn between a sort of excited "I've still got it" and a sheepish "It took us 30 years of MARRIAGE to realize we like-like each other Jesus Christ..." But your relationship had already been so couple-y that the two of you adjust easily.

ALSO also... since Stan faked his death and took Ford's identity technically you're married to Ford... he very graciously divorces you (sorry Ford girlies... it's just for this imagine </3) and you and Stan have an Actual Wedding where you two are Officially In Love. Same little courthouse, same too-expensive rings, but different because now you are surrounded by family and friends as you happily enter officially married life. Sigh... idiots in love <3

[fastboatsmojito]

Inspired by this req !

Hot and Heavy - Gym Nerd! Scott Miller x Reader

| A/N; title based on the song by Lucy Dacus but the song itself is irrelevant to the plot lmao also pls don’t chew gum while you work out this is just Fiction <3

| CW; mostly just some good old bickering in a non-angsty way, Scott being Scott + the tiniest soft spot for you, I think that’s it 💆🏻‍♂️ I was going to make this smutty but it didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to force it so !

He was always there by the time you arrived, already sweaty and intense as you walked in.

“Jesus, Scott. You ever sleep?” You scoffed, setting your bag down and stretching your arms.

“Eight hours.” He barely looked up to talk to you, focused on the weights in front of him.

Of course. He was unintentionally irritating, the crisp, clean compression shirt he sported making the size of him just that much more unavoidable. You weren’t competing with him - you couldn’t if you wanted to, but he wasn’t a bad ‘gym buddy’, disregarding his grumpy attitude and refusal to actually call you that.

He never overstepped, he was quiet but reliable, giving you space and unenthusiastically spotting you whenever you asked.

You held your hand out towards him as he walked over and grabbed his bag, rolling his eyes at you before taking out a piece of gum.

“You get one. If you swallow it again that’s on you.” He said, the piece of gum still in his hand pointing at you as he spoke.

“Already cranky, I see.” You snatched the gum out of his hand, grinning at his less than pleased expression.

——

After a while you got a little overzealous with some weights, voice coming out shaky when you realized it was too much for you to lift all the way. “Shit- um, Scott?”

“What?” He didn’t look up at you when he replied. He didn’t usually have to, used to you asking him whatever questions popped up in your head during your workout, gym related or not.

“Can you come grab this for me?” He looked up then, disregarding his strict routine to jog over to you.

“Yeah. Fuck, why’d you add all this shit? You know that’s too much, right?” He lifted it back up for you, as soon as he was in front of you with his hands on his hips you knew you were in for one of his infamous lectures.

“I know now. I thought I could handle it-“ You tried to explain yourself, clearly falling short when he shook his head.

“Don’t be stupid. I won’t be able to workout if I’m too busy worrying about you breaking your neck. If you need help, just ask-“ He reprimanded, putting his hand up to stop you from interrupting him.

“Before it’s too much. That’s the only reason we’re here at the same time.” He always looked like someone’s dad when he got like this, aggressively chewing his gum with a disapproving look on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right, I’ll ask for help next time.” You muttered before standing up, motioning to walk off before he stopped you.

“Before-“ He moved to stand in front of you like some angry bouncer, waiting on you to finish his sentence.

“Before it’s too much. I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, be smart.” That’s what he always said, you always apologized anyway.

——

You were done after that, uncomfortably dripping sweat from basically every part of your body, walking over to grab your water bottle as you met Scott on the bench. You sat down as he intently watched you trying to massage your leg.

“You hurt your leg, or what?”

“Just a cramp.” You sighed, laying down on the bench instead.

“Come here.” You propped yourself up on your elbows after he said it, confused expression on your face like he just said something insane.

“Don’t look at me like that. Just come here.” He motions for you to move closer to him with his hand, grabbing your leg and placing it in his lap when you were close enough. As soon as his hand moved to your leg you tensed up, unsure of what exactly what you were expecting but surprised nonetheless.

“What’s your problem? Christ just let me massage it out for you, don’t be a brat.” He complained, hands massaging over one of your legs when you relaxed.

“I’m not being a brat, you’re just not exactly the affectionate type.” You winced as he was particularly rougher right where it hurt.

“This isn’t affection, this is you not getting enough calcium and overworking yourself. That’s not on me.” He continued, moving to the other leg when he was pleased with your satiated breathing.

“You know I do this on purpose, right? I choose to do this, even if I’m a dick about it sometimes. I just want you to do it correctly, not get yourself hurt.”

“You’re a dick about it most of the time.” You corrected, sure you heard a light laugh out of him.

“But yeah, I know. Softy.” He rolled his eyes at the unusual nickname, tapping your leg to move it before he stood up.

“Hit the showers, you’re all sweaty.” He cracked his knuckles as he said it before walking away, ignoring your final remark.

“There he is.”

——

[sh4wty18]

✨Hello! I hope you are having a great weekend. I was wondering if you could write a Johnnie Guilbert x reader story about Johnnie, Jake, Tara, Carrington, the reader going to a party. At the party, the reader has a panic attack, and Johnnie notices her walking away. He follows her, helps her through it, and they open up to each other. The reader becomes really attached, kisses him, then immediately apologizes. Johnnie reassures her, kisses her again, and maybe there's some smut or just a good makeout scene - whatever you want to write! ✨

I LOVE THIS!! sorry it took so long <3

panic attack.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x reader

summary: same as request.

cw: angst, fluff, language, alcohol, graphic description of a panic attack

word count: 2.7k + edited

a/n: this is based on my own personal experiences with anxiety and panic attacks. i'm not saying this is what panic attacks look like for everyone, this is just how i have experienced them. also nothing i write about johnnie is accurate (i have no clue if he has/had panic attacks, i just said that for the sake of the fic and this is all FICTIONAL!!)

---

“Guys come on! We’re gonna be late to our own party!!” Jake yells up the staircase, “Tara’s already there!” 

You sigh and turn to face Johnnie, who’s finishing up his makeup. You’d already finished getting ready, but decided to wait for your friend in his room. You were super close with all of them: Johnnie, Jake, Tara, and Carrington, but you’d always been closest with Johnnie. There was just something about him. He always seemed to understand you better than anyone. You never felt like you couldn’t be one hundred percent yourself around him, and it was obvious he felt the same way about you. You were both open with each other about everything, nothing was off limits or TMI. It didn’t take long after becoming friends with them for Johnnie to suggest you move in with him, Jake, and Carrington. Their house had five bedrooms and they’d been wanting another roommate for months, so when Johnnie suggested you take the fourth bed, they’d all eagerly agreed. 

“Ugh, I really wasn’t feeling like a party tonight,” you complain, tracing Johnnie’s comforter with your finger. 

“I know, y/n, me neither. But we can’t back out now, we promised Jake and Tara we’d be there.” Johnnie replies, making eye contact with you through his vanity mirror. “It’s okay, we can stick together the whole time, I promise.” 

You smile and feel your cheeks flush. Although you considered Johnnie to be one of your closest friends, there was always something about him that drew you in other than just friendship. He was a very pretty person, and there was no doubt you were physically attracted to him, but recently you couldn’t quite distinguish whether the butterflies in your stomach were just due to his appearance, or if there was something else there as well— something romantic. You were always flirting with each other, it was a bit between the two of you. It had started out as a joke in his videos, similar to how he and Jake flirt. Eventually though, it had made its way off camera. You’d both learned exactly what to do and say to make the other blush, and once you started it was hard to stop. It became like an addiction of sorts, or maybe it was longing. You both knew deep down there was more to it, that it had always been more than just a bit, but you were too anxious to do anything about it. 

“Finally!” Johnnie exhales, “I’m ready.” 

He stands and faces you, and you give him a once over, eyes lingering on his silk button-down that hangs open to show off his tattoos. “Wow, Johnnie… you look hot.” 

He clears his throat as you stand up in front of him, “You look really pretty too, y/n.”

You smile at him, “Thanks, Johnnie.” 

Suddenly, Carrington slams the door open, and you both snap your attention away from each other, “Jesus Christ, can y’all stop flirting for one second so we can leave!!” 

You start, “We weren’t-” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you gotta tell yourselves.” Carrington rolls his eyes and leads the two of you downstairs.

“Fucking finally, dudes!!” Jake yells, rolling his eyes in faux annoyance. 

“Sorry Jakey, Johnnie here took fifty fucking years to finish his makeup,” You say. 

“Damn, all that time getting ready and you still look like shit!” Jake jokes.

“Gee, thanks dude.” Johnnie says sarcastically. 

Jake claps him on the shoulder, “What? If your girlfriend’s not gonna tell you the truth, I will,” he teases. Both your mouths hang agape at his comment, and he rolls his eyes again, “Will you both chill the fuck out, I’m just jokin’! Johnnie, baby, you look great.” He wraps his arm around Johnnie’s shoulder and leads him toward the front door, and you and Carrington follow behind. 

When you arrive at Jake’s car, Carrington shouts, “I call shotgun!” And jumps into the passenger seat. Johnnie laughs as you both climb in the backseat together, and you smile at him. 

The ride to the club Tara and Jake have rented out for their party tonight is short but tense, at least for you. You had not been in the mood for social interaction tonight, as your anxiety had been particularly bad today. You had gotten overstimulated twice just from hearing Jake and Carrington yelling and clanging pots and pans from the kitchen. It wasn’t their fault and you knew it, so you had isolated yourself in your room for the majority of the day, trying to calm yourself down with the looming thought of the party hanging above your head. But you couldn’t help it, you’d been overthinking about the party all day, and the only person you could swallow being around right now was Johnnie. He must have sensed your anxiety, because he rested his hand on top of yours as Jake pulled into the club parking garage, and you turned to meet his gaze, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hey,” he whispered, “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll stick together, okay?” 

You exhale deeply and nod, mentally preparing yourself to take on the night. 

The four of you make your way from the parking garage into the club, where Tara waits at the door. “You’re late!” She swats at Jake’s arm in annoyance. 

“I know… these fools took too long getting ready.” He points at you and Johnnie accusingly. 

“Mhm, I bet they did.” She side-eyes you both and smirks. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Johnnie asks, light embarrassment lining his tone. 

“Nothing, nothing. Just that you two seem to be getting awfully close is all,” Tara remarks, and Jake elbows her in the side. “Ow! What? We’re all thinking it!” 

“Can we just go in?” You ask, a bit more aggressively than you’d intended, but you were eager to get this night over with. 

“Yeah! Sorry…” Tara trails off. 

The five of you walk into the club and are immediately met with blaring music, screaming and laughter. The party is already packed and it’s only 11. You don’t want to see how much crazier it’s going to get as the night goes on. 

Jake, Carrington, and Tara walk ahead to greet people as you hesitate near the entrance with Johnnie by your side. “You doing okay?” He asks. 

You try not to let your anxiety take over, and give him a thumbs up. “Maybe we could get a drink?” 

“Sure, let’s go,” he stretches his hand out towards you and you take it happily, his touch alone somewhat helping to calm your nerves. He guides you towards the bar, “What do you want, y/n? I can order for both of us.” 

“I’ll have a vodka cranberry.” 

He giggles, “Turning into a basic valley girl on me?”

“Never!” You laugh in response. 

“Well, we’ll be basic together.” He orders two vodka cranberries and then guides you to where your friends are gathered— in the middle of the crowd. “Is this okay?” He asks. 

It really wasn’t, but you didn’t want to appear weak in front of him, so you nodded, holding on even tighter to his hand as the noise escalated around you. 

Once you reach your friends, Jake and Tara start shouting over the blaring music to talk to Johnnie, no doubt teasing him for holding your hand, even though he was just being sweet. Carrington was lost in the crowd, probably dancing wildly with Troy and Keith. You didn’t know where they were. You didn’t know what Jake and Tara were saying. You couldn’t pay attention to anything other than how loud the music was, and how many people were shoving into you, invading your personal space. 

Suddenly everything was wrong. The music was hurting your ears and the colorful strobe lights were too bright. You squinted and let go of Johnnie’s hand to cover your ears, but people kept bumping into you and giving you dirty looks. You could feel your heart rate getting faster as you got more and more overstimulated by everything around you. Your breath quickened, and you felt your eyes starting to get teary. Just as your hands started tingling you finally got called back into reality by Tara, who was placing her hands on your shoulders and shaking you lightly, “Earth to y/n! Are you good?” She asked. You know she’s just joking, but you were so uncomfortable and didn’t want to be touched you shrugged her off and turned around, walking toward the exit. 

You hear Tara shout, “Jeez! What’s wrong with her?” You couldn’t explain, you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. Johnnie’s eyes linger on you as you speed walk towards the door. 

All you could think about was how you could suddenly feel all of your clothes scratching your body, your ears and eyes were throbbing, there were pins and needles running down your forearms and paralyzing your hands, and you couldn’t breathe. Fuck, you really couldn’t breathe. You finally got outside and into the cool night air, but you couldn’t calm yourself enough to take a deep breath so you continued hyperventilating. You flapped your hands aggressively, as if trying to shake off the overstimulation that seems to be staining your body. Your cries come out as choked sobs, and you walk in circles, not knowing what to do, which only enhances your panic. Usually when you have panic attacks, you call one of your parents and they help talk you down. But it was late at night and you didn’t want to wake them. 

You’re still sobbing and hyperventilating, and your hands are still numb with pins and needles when you see Johnnie exiting the club, frantically searching for you. 

His eyes widen when he sees you, and he runs up to greet you. “Y/n, there you are!” He says, relieved. “Can I touch you?” He asks. 

You nod, still unable to speak. He was the only person you felt comfortable being touched by right now. He takes both your hands, gently pressing one to your own chest and the other to his. “Feel that?” He asks rhetorically. “Feel my heartbeat?”

You nod again.

“Breathe with me, y/n. Look at me.” 

You lock eyes with him, watching as he breathes deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth. You attempt to follow his lead, your breaths coming out strained and ragged. Soon you’re able to take a full breath in, using his heart rate as your guide and matching your breathing to his. 

“Now tell me three things you can hear,” Johnnie says.

“Um…” you mutter, your throat sore from sobbing, “I hear the party, I hear cars, and I hear crickets chirping.”

“Good. Now three things you can feel.” He never removes his hands from yours, still pressing them to your chests to keep your breathing level. 

“I can feel the wind in my hair, I feel my skirt scratching my legs… and I feel your hands.” 

He hesitates for a second, smiling at you, “Good. And now three things you can see.”

“I see cars driving by. I see the stars. And I see your eyes… you have the prettiest eyes.”

Johnnie blushes, “Thanks, y/n.” He clears his throat before letting his hands fall to his sides, “Do you feel any better?” 

You take in your surroundings, noticing how you no longer feel suffocated by your senses, you aren’t squinting at the light anymore, your hands aren’t tingling, and you are breathing normally. “Yes, I feel a lot better. How’d you know what to do?” You ask as you sit on a bench next to the club entrance. 

Johnnie joins you, sitting down and resting his hand next to yours, close but not touching. “Just some tricks my old therapist taught me. They always helped during my panic attacks.” 

“You have panic attacks?” You ask, shocked that he’s never told you. 

“I haven’t in a while, but I used to ‘cause of my anxiety and depression and stuff. You know if you felt uncomfortable in there, you could've told me, right? Making you feel like that is the last thing I ever wanna do. I would’ve gladly ditched that party and everyone there for you.” He looks down and slowly slides his hand closer to yours, resting two of his fingers on top of yours, waiting for your permission. You open your hand to him, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. You’ve held hands countless times before, but this was different. There was no mistaking this for platonic, it was completely, unapologetically romantic. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was weak,” you admit. 

Sadness rushes over his face, “Y/n… I could never think you’re weak. You remind me how to be strong everyday.”

“Thank you,” you say. “For everything.” You stand up and pull him off the bench and into a tight embrace.

He pulls away first and gazes down at you, taking you in. His eyes savor every inch of your face and he moves one hand up to cradle your neck. Your hands fall to his neck, and your eyes drop to his lips for a split second, before meeting his gaze again. “Fuck it,” you say before closing the gap between your mouths. You feel his entire body freeze at your kiss, and you immediately pull away, embarrassed. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I thought–” You let out a humiliated laugh, “I completely misread this situation.” He stares at you, shock still lingering on his face. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna go,” you say, letting go of him and getting ready to walk back into the party. It’s the last thing you want to do, but saving yourself the humiliation of spending another second with Johnnie after potentially ruining your friendship is your only priority right now. 

“Y/n, wait.” He firmly grips your wrist, pulling you back into him. The hand that gripped your wrist falls back into place at the small of your back, and his other hand rests on the side of your face, thumb slowly rubbing circles into your cheek. “Kiss me,” his eyes gaze into yours with longing, “Please.” 

A small smile forms on your face, and you drape your arms around his neck again, pulling him in to kiss him. He hesitates a little at first, before finally succumbing to whatever flame was igniting between you. He yanks your torso flush against his, and you feel his tongue beg for entry. You open your mouth slightly and feel his tongue flick against yours. In one swoop he turns you around, backing you into the side of the building and resting one hand on the wall next to your head. You run your hands down his chest and eventually his waist, which you pull closer to you. A small moan escapes your lips as he pulls away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. You move your hands up the back of his shirt, clawing at his back as he sucks at a sensitive spot on your neck. He groans at the feeling of your nails on his back, and you let out a small “Fuck,” in response.

“Johnnie,” you whisper, pulling his attention away from your neck and back up to your face, “I want to kiss you again.” He smiles and leans in to grant your wish, pressing his lips to yours in yet another deep, messy kiss. Still, you couldn’t get enough of him. No matter how sloppy it got, how close your bodies were, how tangled his hands were in your hair, nothing was enough. You still needed more. 

He must’ve sensed this, because he abruptly broke away, pressing his forehead to yours and groaning out, “Let’s get out of here.” 

“But the party–” 

“I don’t really care about the party right now. They already think we’re gonna end up together, they’ll be happy to know we finally fucked.” 

You smirk, “So you wanna fuck me, Johnnie?” 

He blushes, “Was it not obvious from me practically eating your neck?” 

“Oh, it was. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

He smiles and kisses you again, his hand moving down your back to squeeze your ass. “Yeah, y/n. I want to fuck you.” 

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” You breathe against his lips before kissing him. 

“It won’t be. I want to be more than just your best friend, if you’ll have me?”

“Do you really have to ask?” You smile, “Of course I’ll have you.”

---

i love this one and i hope you did too. as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Peeta as the smallest of 3 brothers definitely had to resort to dirty plays like biting in his youth.

First off, you're right and you should say it. Second off, Peeta being the youngest is 1000% a dynamic in his relationship with Katniss once they start to recover.

No bc listen. I was the youngest of three siblings and while we never got into physical fights I learned QUICK how to use my mouth to win what battles couldn't be fought physically because my siblings would 100% go to jail for trying to rock a 3 y/os shit. So Peeta was running his mouth religiously around the household. Can't tell me otherwise. "If it weren't for the baby??" Girl, he was biting AND flappin his lips. 100% would get pinned to the ground by his brothers and be like "wow I feel bad for your girlfriend" before getting his shit rocked. He'll offer them tips inbetween punches. "Aim for the throat. Wow, you're still pathetic."

Second, Katniss is the eldest, Peeta is the youngest in their families. Once they're more secure in their relationship, Peeta is 100% causing fun! problems 24/7. She's stressed the fuck out she's gonna come home one day from hunting again and half the house is repainted with all of the furniture just shoved into one big pile away from the drying walls like "WHY DID YOU DO THIS??" "bored :))" because he's so dangerously intelligent, I'm thoroughly convinced he's a practical fucking moron. He probably had to create his own entertainment as a child, he's used to being ignored. If he gets an idea to rearrange the furniture, he just does it. Katniss and Haymitch both have to intervene with how much this happens because Katniss complained about it to Effie once, and Effie started rambling about this thing called "feng-shui," and now Peeta is completely obsessed and will spend several hours to the point of obsession planning with Effie not just his decor, but literally fucking everyones, and Katniss tried to warn Haymitch "Hey, we need to fucking stop this," and Haymitch just said "get out of my house." But now Haymitch is too sober to deal with the constantly changing furniture, and why is this idiot painting his ceiling, and can you please pick up a hobby that doesn't involve majorly changing the layout of our houses? Peeta says no. Katniss instead comes home to Peeta having several geese chasing him at Haymitchs training. He's been waiting for an excuse to reveal this.

She stops feeling bad for needing his constant comfort once he starts biting her out of boredom. Oh, come on. You can see it. He would absolutely look at her arm one night and go "you look nice :))" before taking a giant fucking bite that makes her question every decision she made from age 16-18. There's a solid minute where they just sit in their bed at a standstill. She's holding her book in shock, he's just frozen still biting her. She says "What the fuck" he says "nostalgia :))" to which she's further confused and slightly terrified. She learns how to duck. He learns how to lure her in easier. Post-canon angst + comfort is cute, give me chaotic Peeta torturing his wife who just wants five minutes of peace but secretly adores her dangerously clever idiot of a husband

Imagine when they have kids. That woman is gonna go from "peetas baby!" To "your child."

He likes tossing the motherfuckers in the air. He's the kinda dad who will take off RUNNING with the shopping cart, shove the thing as far away as he can and just wave "bye bye! :))" to the baby inside of the cart that's laughing wildly while Katniss is just chasing this fucking thing down through the store like it's the quarter quell all over again and everyone else is just watching like "Jesus Christ he's doing it again." It gets worse when Peeta collaborates his children with the attacking geese to use against Haymitch when he tries to prevent him from repainting his ceiling again.

[rainylana]

“Yeah.”

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: eddie calls reader a b*tch

warnings: language, angst, tears.

a/n: i know these past fics have been short, i’m sorry, but i’m still trying my hand at getting back into this! they’ll get longer, i promise! feedback is appreciate!! :)

Eddie was not in a good mood. You knew this the moment you saw him through the window of his van when he came to pick you up for school. He ranted all morning about how he needed money for new tires, money he didn’t have. Work was cutting him hours and he couldn’t afford it. He was tired of not having money, tired of not getting what he wanted. He was having a damn bad day.

And of course, you listened graciously, but after four hours of watching him sulk in class and be a dick to his friends, it was starting to take it’s toll. He was pouting and you understood why. He came from a poor family and he wouldn’t let you help out financially in anyway whatsoever, no matter how hard you begged. You didn’t want to seem rude and make his bad day seem unappreciated or invalid, but he was treating his friends, and you, poorly to a degree. Not so much you.

Lunch was almost unbearable. Everyone walked on eggshells. Eddie was one of the most dramatic people on the face of the earth and everyone had to suffer for it. Hours past and he’d taken you home from school. Your plan was to go over to his house for a movie night, hoping that a few hours apart would help him settle down and cool off. It done no good. He was absolutely enraged when you got there. The hood of his van was up, smoke flying overhead and his dark curls pulled up away from his face. You didn’t even really know what was wrong with it. It didn’t make sense when he told you. Cars were his detail.

Dinner was no change. You sat and listened to him complain about how none of the guy’s were apparently taking the new campaign seriously. He had a hole in his last pair of good jeans. You felt guilty being annoyed by this, but he hadn’t once asked you how your day was or even kissed you! You were going to loose your mind. Without thinking, you snapped.

“Oh, my god!” You wailed, throwing your silverware down. “Jesus, christ, Eddie, take a breath!”

His eyes were round and wide. “Pardon me?”

You took a breath yourself, forcing yourself to not snap and say something you’d regret. You placed your elbows on the table and rubbed your face. “Baby, I’m sorry you’re having such a bad day, but holy shit you’ve not stopped talking for one second!” You really did have a pounding headache. “You’ve been talking about money all day! Can’t we just have a change of topic, please.”

He looked taken back. Shocked. “Oh, I see. It’s all gotta be bout you, right? Fucking forgive me for having a bad day!” He threw down his fist, clinking the dinnerware together.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Eddie.” You sighed tiredly. “I’m saying that you’ve not acknowledged me at all today. You’ve not kissed me or asked how my day was. I’m sorry you’re stressed out about money, but you’ve been taking it out one everyone, Eddie. You need to calm down.”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “Calm down? Well, last time I checked you were living in a grand castle on daddy’s money, right? You have no idea the kind of shit Wayne and I have to got through to make ends meet, y/n.” He stood abruptly and yanked open the fridge for a beer.

“Hey,” You raised your voice. “I’m not trying to belittle you, Eddie. All I’m saying is that you don’t need to take your frustration out on everyone, out on me. I’m sorry I snapped at you, okay-”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” He took a long swig after he threw the tab in the sink. “You’re my girlfriend! You’re supposed to be supportive and shit. Only thing you’re being is a bitch.” He sneered like a snake, pointing at you like you were his worst enemy.

Your face dropped at the curse, and as stupid as it felt, your heart sank. Eddie had never said anything like that to you before. Your face burned red and the room got eerily quiet. You felt your eyes immediately blur with tears of embarrassment and humiliation. You had tried to help him, offer solutions. You tried to lend a hand, offer him money and look for jobs in the newspaper at lunch. He acknowledged none of this.

You bit your lip to keep from crying, a lump building in your throat that made you feel sick. You had your head turned to the wall so he wouldn’t see you, but you couldn’t keep it in. You let out a quiet sob, tears falling down your face as you looked down. Your face was red hot, and you brought up your hand to your chest. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” You cried. “I’ve been t-trying to help, I-” Your voice broke and you couldn’t speak as tears escaped, your face twisting into tears. You sat there and cried for a few minutes before you felt the seat dip next to you.

“Hey,” His voice cooed softly, turning your shoulder to pull you toward him. You allowed him to, and you looked eyes briefly before climbing into his lap, wrapping your legs around his torso, your feet dangling off the bench. Your arms were tight around his neck, your face buried in his shirt where you sniffled. He smelled of cologne and dirt.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, voice low and sad. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He rubbed your back up and down, kissing the side of your head when you let out a whimper.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” You said tearfully, holding him like a teddy bear. “I wish you didn’t have to worry about money.”

You felt him sigh heavily. “It’s okay. I got the most important thing in the world right here with me.” He pulled you away so he could look up at you. His eyes were brown and full, his lips pulled into a frown at your tear stricken face. He took his thumbs and wiped them. “I’m sorry I called you that. You know I didn’t mean it, right? You know I didn’t.”

You nodded slowly, wiping your nose with your hand. “Yeah.” You creaked.

He tapped your chin. “Yeah.” Then your nose and to wipe away another tear. He leaned up to plant a tiny kiss on your lips, then one on the corner of your mouth. You leaned down to kiss back, deepening it with your tongue and a hand locking in his curls. Your noses pressed together like puzzle pieces. Perfectly fit.

[rogueddie]

Steve doesn’t wrap up in wool or thick clothes. It’s something that Eddie notices slowly but, the more he does, the more concerned it makes him.

He tries to point out that he should wear scarves, gloves, winter coats. He starts pointing out that Steve is shaking, any time he notices. He tries to be subtle, to gently coax him into taking better care of himself, but he never does.

“Here,” Eddie had snapped one day. He’d taken his own mittens off and grabbed Steves wrist before he could pull away.

“Don’t, Eddie, stop,” Steve had complained. It sounded more like petulant whining. “You’ll get cold!”

“Remember to bring your own then!”

Steve hadn’t taken the gloves off, thankfully, but he had been in a mood the rest of the day. He almost always had his arms crossed, sending glares Eddies way and pointedly looking at his hands.

It had been worth it though. Steve started wearing the gloves more. Eddie had to get a new pair, but he didn’t care. Steve was warmer.

And it worked the same with his scalf. He bought a new one before forcing his usual on Steve and, from then on, Steve started to wear that scarf as much as the gloves. He refused to admit it though, huffing that it was just to get Eddie off his case.

When Eddie tried to hand off a coat, though, Steve gave it back at the end of the day.

The next time Eddie tried, he also handed it back. The third time, Eddie wore a thick jumper so he wouldn’t have the excuse of Eddie getting cold on the way home again. Still, he gave it back.

“You know, you can keep this,” Eddie finally points out. “I have more than one coat. I’ve been trying to wear this one out anyway. Keep it.”

“No, uh, that… that’s ok.”

Eddie frowns at him, pushing the coat back towards him. “You need a coat, Steve, your flimsy jackets aren’t enough.”

“I’m fine, really.”

“Take the fucking coat, Steve.”

Steve ducks his head- which is what makes Eddie finally realize that it’s not the cold making his face go pink. “N-no, uh, just… I’m fine, really.”

“Steve? Why won’t you keep the coat?”

“You need it.”

“The real reason.”

“I don’t know,” Steve mutters, scuffing his foot against the floor, shrugging.

Eddie sighs, slipping the coat back on. “Alright. I’ll stop, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“What?”

“You can tell me, you know? I’m sorry if I made you feel like you can’t.”

“No, no, that’s not- that’s not it!”

“What is it, then?”

“They don’t…” Steve flushes a deeper red, turning away from him, crossing his arms. “They don’t smell like you anymore, ok?”

Eddie stares for a moment. “Huh?”

“The… the gloves and scarf. It- they don’t…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Sorry, it’s… sorry.”

Eddie blinks again. He’s pretty sure his brain must be melting out his ears, or he’s having a stroke, because there’s no way he’s hearing what he is. He must be misunderstanding.

“Eddie?” Steve finally looks back to him. “Have… have I made you uncomfortable?”

“They don’t smell like me,” Eddie echoes. “So… what you’re saying…?”

“You know what I’m saying,” Steve mumbles, running a hand nervously through his hair.

“No, no, I don’t. I really… my mind is going a mile a minute, Stevie, you need to spell this shit out.”

Steve shuffles, hesitating for a long moment. “I like wearing your things… because they’re yours. Because I like you.”

“... Alright.”

“Alright? What- is that it?”

Eddie quickly ducks down, grabbing a handful of snow and shoving it down the front of Steves shirt. He screams as he hurries to pull the snow out. He very quickly grabs his own snowball, trying to retaliate, but Eddie easily catches his wrist.

“I’ve been so worried about you being cold and catching hypothermia or some shit! Jesus Christ, Steve, I was about to start pulling my hair out.”

“Sorry?”

“You’re such a dumbass,” Eddie grumbles. “You could’ve just said you liked me too.”

“Too?” Steve perks up immediately, grinning.

“You’re insufferable.”

“But you like me?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. Yeah, Steve, I really like you.” Eddie shakes his head, laughing at Steves little victory fist pump. “Fuck, you’re a dork. Just for that, I’m taking you on a real shit first date. We’ll go to this run down little dinner, real greasy food, it’s some nasty shit.”

“Does this mean I can kiss you?”

Eddie tugs him closer with his own scarf so he can kiss him first, beating him to the prize.

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 13 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica's fraternity fundraiser is the most popular event during alumni weekend. While that should be enough to guarantee she's smiling all night, an unwanted guest turns up to make sure that doesn't happen. Jake is set on taking care of her, but he desperately wants her to open up.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smut, angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, frat boys, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"Come on, Hangman," Bradley grunted. "You're acting like you've never been to a frat party before."

Jake watched him adjusting the keg of beer in the enormous tub of ice on the back porch of the fraternity house. "We're supposed to carry this inside?" Jake balked. "Why? It's going to make a mess."

"Jesus Christ, Jake. You need beer to play beer pong."

"We played it with champagne at your house on New Year's Eve," he countered, just to irritate Bradshaw. 

"Yeah, and it low key pissed off my wife. Just help me carry this inside before both of them get mad at us."

He and Jake struggled with the keg and dropped it off in the back hallway where the exceptionally nerdy looking frat boys would be able to access it to fill up the crystal cups between rounds. In fact, one of them was coming over now, all dressed up in his tuxedo. 

"Excuse me, sir. Can you help me move some of the ping pong tables?"

Bradley looked absolutely disgusted as he said, "Only if you stop calling me sir." Bradley went off to help him while Jake found Jessica in the kitchen going over the menus with the culinary students. She looked gorgeous, and he wanted to get his hands on her, but there was a soft crease between her eyebrows that told Jake she was starting to stress. 

"What can I do?" he asked when she glanced his way.

"Can you check to make sure you can hear the string quartet everywhere?" she asked him. "Everyone should start arriving in about ten minutes."

"Of course." Jake walked around the entire downstairs of the sprawling Victorian house, and after a minute he realized the quartet was playing Hot In Herre by Nelly. Not only could he hear it everywhere, it also sounded incredible, and he had to fight the urge to start dancing. 

When he walked into the main living room, Bradshaw and his wife had their backs to him while they threw a few test shots at one of the tables. Jake had to appreciate the juxtaposition that Jessica had achieved here. It was an elevated college experience for adults. 

"Let's try this out," Bradshaw mumbled, stretching like he was about to compete in an event at the actual olympics. "I honestly don't love that Jess didn't go regulation with solo cups," he complained, aiming at the crystal glassware lined up at the far end of the table. 

His wife wrapped her arms around him and said, "Come on, Beer Boy. You can do it."

"Not with you hanging all over me, I can't," he said, but in such a loving way that Jake rolled his eyes. Bradshaw was soft and sweet for literally nobody but his wife. 

"You never once complained about that when we were in college," she mused, kissing the side of his neck when her eyes met Jake's. "Oh look. Another fuckboy."

Jake laughed in response and made his way over to her as the fraternity boys ran around and started pouring glasses of champagne for everyone who was about to arrive. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me," she replied with a grin while her husband made two shots in a row, the pinging of the balls against the crystal making a satisfying sound. "We should play later as long as everything is going smoothly. Fuckboys versus hot ladies."

"Hot, smart ladies," Bradshaw said as he made another shot. Jake got his ass kicked by the two of them on New Year's Eve, but he was more confident he could win with Rooster as his teammate. 

"Here you go, sir," the nerdiest of the boys told Bradley, offering up the champagne flutes on the tray. He growled and snatched one up before handing it to his wife at the same time Jake caught sight of his girlfriend in the kitchen with another guy's arms wrapped around her. 

"What the fuck." He wove around the tables and ducked through the doorway where Jessica was laughing with an extremely attractive man in a purple suit that somehow didn't even look hideous on him. And then she gave him another quick hug before releasing him.

"As soon as you invited me, I dropped everything," the other guy said. "It's not every day you get a chance to look at the beautiful Jessica Reed."

"Stop it, Dev. You're being too sweet. I already can't thank you enough for all the beer."

Perhaps the most disturbing thing was the fact that Jessica looked calmer in the presence of this Dev guy that she had for the past hour, and that didn't even account for the way he was looking at her. Jake cleared his throat loudly. 

"Jake! Come meet Dev Borah!"

When they clasped hands, Jake tried his best at an intimidating handshake, but Dev looked completely unfazed by it. Then he said, "I've heard a lot about you from Bradley. Aren't you the guy who tried to pick up his wife before you realized they were dating?"

Okay. Jake officially hated this guy. He could feel himself blushing, and Jessica was looking up at him with wide eyes. He didn't try to pick up Bradshaw's wife when he met her. Not exactly. He'd put his foot in his mouth a little bit that day last year, but not to the extent Dev was making it out to be. 

"I get it though," he told Jake. "She's beautiful. But so is Jessica. You're very lucky." He slapped Jake on the back before he said, "I just need to run out to my Porsche and grab those gift cards for the silent auction. I'll be right back, Jess."

"I swear I didn't try to pick her up," Jake insisted as soon as he was gone, but Jessica was already laughing at him. 

"She's hot. I get it," she replied as she hugged him. "And I'm sure Dev just wanted to give you a hard time."

Jake rolled his eyes as she tucked her head under his chin. "Are you all set, Baby? I think people are starting to arrive."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

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

An hour later, Jessica was pleasantly surprised. The Kappa Pi house was completely packed. It almost felt like a real frat party, but the partygoers ranged in age from thirty to seventy. They'd already gone through countless bottles of champagne and one of the kegs of beer from Beta Brewing. Jake and Bradley were carrying another iced keg inside to the back hallway where the empty one sat. 

"Thank you," she told Bradley who was flushed from whatever he was drinking. He immediately returned to dance with his wife to the string quartet playing Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg. She'd received so many compliments on the music selection, and everyone was gushing about how delicious the beer was. She just sent the trays of food out of the kitchen, and now the beer pong tournament was underway. 

"You're killing it, Reedy," Jake whispered next to her ear before kissing her. "You got this frat thing on lock." Her heart swelled with pride at his words. Then a tall man in a tuxedo strolled her way with a champagne flute in one hand and a glass of beer in the other. 

"Are you Dr. Reed?" he asked over the noisy crowd and the music. 

"Yes," she replied as he shuffled his drinks so he could shake her hand.

"Dr. Gregory Michaels. I just wanted to let you know that I've been coming to alumni weekends for thirty years, and I was a member of Kappa Pi. In fact, I lived in this house my senior year."

"Did you really?" she asked as he smiled and looked around. 

"It feels exactly the same," he told her with a laugh, and she turned to smile at Jake. "I also wanted to let you know that this is by far the best and most entertaining event I've ever attended. My wife is playing beer pong for the first time with a guy in a backwards hat, and I've never seen her have so much fun. I'll be sure to mention this to Dean Walters when he and I have our next golf outing."

"You know Dean Walters?" she asked, her knees nearly giving out. The dean was like four steps above Brian Conley. There was no way Brian would be able to be a complete dick about her tenure if she had the damn dean on her side. 

"I don't just know him. I used to be his math tutor when we were undergrads together. I'll put in a good word."

When he turned and walked away, Jessica giggled and jumped up and down before she took Jake by the hand and led him away from the kegs. "He knows the dean," she hissed as she pushed her way through the back door. "He's putting in a good word."

"You deserve it," he replied in the relative darkness of the back porch as Jessica pushed his back up against the exterior of the house. He smirked as she came to stand between his legs and kissed him. "You deserve everything."

Jake's hands were on her hips, bunching her dress up inch by inch until he slipped his warm hand inside the slit. He wrapped his hand around her thigh, caressing her with his thumb as he pulled her snug against his body. 

"Who's going to give it to me?" she whispered against his lips. "You?"

He moaned as he palmed her ass. "Yeah, I'll give you everything." Then she laced her fingers through his hair and rubbed herself slowly back and forth along his suit pants as he groaned into her mouth. "Jessica." His voice had a pleading quality as he grew a little harder for her. She felt good right now. Almost powerful. "Baby, please." 

As Jessica dragged her right hand down along his body to his pants zipper, Jake's head tipped back. "You think anyone will notice me on my knees?" she asked teasingly as she pulled his zipper down. 

"Fuck," he whined, but just as she got her hand wrapped around him through his underwear, she heard someone calling her name from inside the house.

"Dev's looking for me," she said, kissing his jaw.

"Well I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't love it if he found you with your hand in my pants."

Jessica giggled. "Just hold that thought for later tonight." She got him zipped up again, and when Dev popped out on the porch and found her, she was kissing Jake, but in a much less compromising position. 

"I need you to verify the silent auction winners," Dev told her. "And then I need you to have a glass of champagne with me."

Jake grunted, but Jessica squeezed his hand to silence him. "Coming, Dev," she told him before turning back to Jake. "Let me check on everything, and then just maybe we'll have a minute to play a game of beer pong. I'll meet you in there."

And then she placed one more filthy kiss on Jake's lips before going inside.

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

Jake sipped his champagne while the crowd around him seemed to move in unison to the cover of Jay-Z that the quartet was playing. It looked like everyone was having a great night, and Bradshaw was no exception as he taught a woman who was easily twice his age how to play beer pong. 

"You need a partner?" 

Jake turned to see a young woman eyeing him up and down with a hopeful smile. Damn. A few months ago, he'd have said yes. And he would have probably ended up sleeping with her either here or back at his condo before kicking her out in the morning. 

"I'm here with my girlfriend." He walked to the other side of the table where Bradshaw's wife was dancing with her own champagne flute. "This whole thing seems successful, right?" he asked.

"Very," she replied. "Look at everyone! That guy's like eighty years old! He's also a huge donor to the college, and he's dancing like nobody's watching."

Jake cracked up. "Meanwhile, everyone is watching." But she was right. Everybody was rocking their formal wear while tossing ping pong balls like there was no tomorrow as the night wore on. 

Then Jessica and Dev emerged from the kitchen, and she came right for him. "Jake, I'm freaking out. I got an email that said I sold all of the tickets available for tonight. And, the items in the silent auction went for a ton of money!"

"I'm not surprised," he replied, pulling her close to his side. "Not one bit. Congratulations."

"You're up!" Bradshaw called out. "Get your ass to the other side of the table, Reed. Hangman, you're with me." Then he kissed his wife, "Get down there with Jessica, Sugar."

"You're about to lose so fucking hard, Beer Boy."

The crowd had started to thin out now, and Jake watched the fraternity boys clean off the table and set up fresh glasses filled with overpriced beer for them. "Ladies first," Jake said, rolling the balls to their end of the table. And that was when he learned that not only was he nowhere near as good as Rooster and his wife, he was also terrible compared to Jessica.

After the ladies sunk both of their shots, Bradley said, "I hope you're ready to drink." And then when Jake missed his first shot, he got a glare in response. "How are you this bad? You went to college."

"I didn't play beer pong. I was busy making out with girls."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I managed to do both at the same time very successfully. Isn't that right, Sugar?"

She responded by making another shot followed by Jessica. "Shit," Jake muttered. 

"Can we switch partners?" Bradley whined. He tried to walk to the other end of the table as he drank his beer, but his wife just pushed him right back to Jake. 

"It's not our fault we're exceptionally good at math," she said before returning to Jessica's side. 

"Come on, Jake!" his girlfriend cheered. "You can do it!"

But he missed again. It was almost comical how easily the ladies won, and they only had to drink one glass of beer toward the end of the match. Bradshaw's wife danced around while she drank it, and then Jessica made the final shot. 

"I taught her everything she knows!" Bradley shouted as he made his way back to their end. "My wife is a badass."

Jessica was laughing as she ran around the table toward Jake. "You're terrible. Do you need lessons?" she asked sweetly. 

"Lessons from you?" he asked, kissing her hard. "Sign me up." But then his gaze caught on the one person he knew could ruin her night and would absolutely love to do it. 

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

When Jake started easing himself away from her and rubbing his hand along her back, Jessica looked up at him. "I'll gladly teach you how to suck less at beer pong. Actually... I wonder if I could turn it into a physics lecture topic," she mused. 

"Baby, he's here."

Jessica spun around so fast, she had to fix her glasses as she set eyes on an irate looking Brian Conley. "We need to talk," he told her with his hands on his hips like she was a small child.

"About what?" she bit back, already feeling her body tensing up as Jake, Bradley and his wife stood at her back. 

Brian was looking around the room in annoyance at the handful of alumni guests still playing beer pong and hanging out. The string quartet sounded louder now as the house had emptied out a bit, and the song was suddenly grating on her nerves. 

"Meet me in the kitchen," Brian growled, storming off toward the back of the house. 

Jake's hand was on hers immediately. "You don't have to talk to him right now, Jessica. Tell him to schedule a meeting for next week."

But she shook her head. "I'll be right back." 

She passed Dev in the hallway, and he looked handsome and happy as always. "I need to get going, but cheers to a successful fundraiser. Call me if you want to come up to Beta. You can even bring your boyfriend. I guess." His smile was bright, but she had to force one in return. 

"Thanks for everything, Dev." And as soon as she was alone in the kitchen with Brian, her smile vanished. "What can I help you with?" she asked him, swiping her sweaty palms on her pretty green dress.

He shook his head at her like she was something to be pitied. "You know... I spent all evening working through the numbers, trying to come up with a total amount of money raised through the science department for alumni weekend. And while your numbers seemed to look pretty good, you didn't account for the astronomical amount you wasted on kegs of this designer beer. And when I show up here to question you about it, you're practically drunk and playing the games you set up for paying guests."

Jessica's jaw dropped. "I'm not drunk! I haven't had anything to drink all night!" Brian rolled his eyes. "And I played one round of beer pong with my friends. If you hadn't noticed the event is ending now. It's nearly midnight."

Brian laughed. "You think someone from the math department is your friend? Jessica. You're delusional."

"Call me Dr. Reed," she ground out, fists clenched at her sides as tears stung her eyes. "And I'm not delusional."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Everyone in the science and math departments believes you're nothing but a slut, and I can guarantee your friend falls into that category." She started shaking as he added, "Now tell me how much you spent on the beer so I can deduct it from the profits of your event."

"I didn't spend anything!" she nearly screamed, frustrated beyond belief and tired of being belittled. "It was donated!"

Brian's laughter filled the space, bouncing off of the stainless steel appliances and tiled floor. "Donated? By whom?"

"The owner of the brewery!" she nearly screamed. "He donated things for the silent auction, too."

His gaze bore into her face as a look of disgust filled his features. "Jesus Christ, Dr. Reed. You got thousands of dollars worth of goods donated to you by the brewery owner? How many men are you sleeping with?"

Jessica's face fell further, and she had a hard time swallowing. "I'm not," she whispered, fingers going numb as her fists shook. "I didn't."

"You're so unprofessional. And you expect me to give you tenure? On what basis? You can't even get through an alumni event without fucking up and making yourself look bad."

"On the basis that I'm great at my job!" she shouted. But her voice shook on the last word, and she was mortified that she was about to cry in front of him. There was no hope. The tears were right there. And as her jaw quivered, she felt the first tear roll down her cheek.

"You're a damn joke," he replied maliciously, but then she felt a warm hand on her back between her shoulder blades. 

"What the fuck is your problem, asshole?" Jessica turned to her right to see Advanced Calculus in the kitchen, steadying her with her firm hand. "You think you're so slick, but you're not smarter than us. Where's your PhD from again? The University of Jackass online?"

"This has nothing to do with you," Brian told her, face stony. "Now if you don't mind, we're having a private conversation."

The other woman laughed. "It's no longer private when I can hear you berating Dr. Reed in the next room."

Brian seemed to fumble for a response as he said, "This is none of your business."

Jessica was shaking as Advanced Calculus said, "Actually, you made it everybody's business by telling lies and starting rumors, Dr. Conley. This is a university, not a sleepaway camp."

Brian took a step closer to her and hissed, "Do not think for one second that I can't fuck with your career path, too."

But she just smiled and inched even closer as she loudly said, "You're not in charge of my tenure."

Then Bradley was in the kitchen, too. His wife wrapped her arm around Jessica's shoulders as Bradley went chest to chest with Brian, towering over him. "Why the fuck are you talking to my wife that way? Huh?"

Brian sputtered for a response, but Jessica could barely breathe. It felt good to have people in her corner for once, but now she was terrified that Bradley was going to punch Brian. 

"I asked you a question," Bradley growled before he turned to his wife. "What's this guy's problem, Sugar?"

Jessica would have laughed if she wasn't already crying when her friend said, "I think he got his PhD online."

And then Jake was there, head on a swivel as he surveyed the situation and saw a few more stray tears slip down Jessica's cheeks. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

Bradley's wife laughed sardonically. "Jake, have you met Brian? He thinks it's okay to spread rumors and insult women who are smarter than him, and then he holds it over their heads."

Jessica watched Brian's face turn a pasty shade of white as Jake took him by the shirt collar and shoved him against the refrigerator. "No. Please don't hit him," Jessica begged as she cried. "He's not worth it, Jake."

But her boyfriend looked a little deranged right now, and she could see the malice in Brian's eyes. 

"I've had just about enough of you giving my girl a hard time. It's like you're begging for this." Jake shoved him a little harder, and Jessica had to look away. 

"Oh, shit," Bradshaw and his wife said in unison, and she was too afraid to look. 

Jessica felt the other woman's arms wrap around her as she called out, "Jake, look at Jessica! She's upset."

When Jessica peeked through her tears, she saw Bradley bear hugging Jake's arms to his side as he fought to get to Brian. But when Jake turned to look at her, his features softened, and now it looked like he was fighting against Bradley to come her way. 

Brian pushed away from the refrigerator and stormed out of the room, but not before he said, "We're not finished," as he pointed in Jessica's face.

Bradley released Jake, and Jessica was a little afraid he was going to go after Brian, but he didn't. She was wrapped up in his arms with his lips on her forehead as he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I made you cry more."

Jessica shook in his arms, terrified that her career was now over. Shaken once again by how hard Brian was trying to ruin her. Jake's kisses and soft words did little to soothe her as she closed her eyes and sobbed.

"Take her home," Bradley said, his voice soft but commanding. "We'll get everything cleaned up here."

Jessica tried to argue, but Jake scooped her up easily in his arms, and she didn't fight him. She closed her eyes, forcing air into and out of her lungs, and a moment later she was sitting in his truck.

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

Jake started the engine, but before he shifted into drive, he leaned across the seat and brushed Jessica's hair away from her face. "I'll take you back to your place?" he asked softly. More than anything, he really wanted to drop her off and then go pound the shit out of Brian, but when she nodded and reached for his hand, he put the truck in gear.

She remained silent as she held his hand, only occasionally swiping at her tears and looking out the window. If he knew she wanted to confide in him, Jake would sit and wait with her for as long as it took her to get the words out. But he didn't want to push or ask the wrong things. He knew she could have a bit of a hard time opening up. 

He parked his truck, and scooped her up, careful not to mess up the fabric of her pretty dress. As he carried her into her apartment, he realized just how exhausted she must be. Her arms were around his neck, but she just sniffed and buried her face in his neck, trusting that he would get her inside to safety.

When Jake set her on her bed, he reached for the lamp on the nightstand. She looked wrung out even in the soft lighting, and he reached for her shoes. As he turned to take them into her closet, Jessica crawled up to her pillows with her dress still on, so he only took the time to remove his own shoes and his jacket before climbing in with her. 

Once he had his arms wrapped around her, she let her cheek rest on his chest. Her breathing evened out, and she seemed calmer. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, holding her close. 

She shrugged, and when she spoke, she sounded faint and almost broken. "There's not a lot to say. Brian is trying to ruin my career."

This was not the first time Jake wondered how someone could dislike Jessica. His mind was swirling with the possibility that he was holding a grudge after she broke up with him. He'd been thinking that for weeks. As he pressed a kiss to her hair, he asked, "Why, Baby? How is that possible?"

Jessica's body tensed up in his arms before she took a few shaky breaths and eased her cheek away from his chest. She was crying again as she looked him in the eye and whispered, "He and I were dating. And then we were sleeping together. For weeks. And I had no idea that he's married and has two kids."

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

Brian Conley is a dank ass bitch. We hate him. If Jake doesn't respond just right, I'll have to kill him. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

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[thewritingofspencerrose]

Good Mornings

Jack Hughes x girlfriend!OC

"Ja-"

"Jesus Christ, Z! Fucking knock would you?"Jack can't help but yell, body jumping and making mine jump along with his, my book falling from my hand.

"Dude, calm down, this is important," Is Trevor's response, at the very least closing Jack's and my bedroom door behind himself once he notices our lack of clothing from last night. "Also, I thought I heard something going on on my way to bed last night."

"You're right, it is super important how pervy you are for listening to my girlfriend and I have sex," Jack grumbles, pulling the quilt up on my body so that it covers more of my front, my eyes drifting up from the pages of the book to meet those of Jack's best friend, the boy looking entirely too comfortable in our presence.

"You and I both know that's not what was going on, you two are just noisy," Trev complains, rolling his eyes and making his way to plop in the desk chair in the corner of J's room, elbows on his knees and hands folded.

"Is there a reason that you're in here trying to sneak a peak of my naked boyfriend?" I can't help but groan, just wanting to return to our rare moment of peace, the ever incoming insanity of the house looming.

"I've seen Jack naked a million times, I have no interest in doing it this morning," Is the response I get, his entire being smug, earning the tossing of my book. At his head.

A kind gesture, I know.

"Hey, what the hell!"

"Should I be concerned that Z has seen you naked more than I have and we've been dating for three years?"

"I've been his best friend for sev-"

"Trev," Jack scolds, silencing the boy into a pout, although I can't focus on it too long as Jack's hand is pulling my chin towards his, kissing my lips. "Baby, you're literally laying on top of me naked right now. I don't think you're in a position to let him make you jealous."

"This is disgust- Wait is she laying on you nips out?"

"Trevor!"

"Dude you don't ask that to a woman! No wonder you're single!" Jack groans at the same time I scold Trevor for his words.

"I'm just saying - " He appeals, hands raised in a surrender, "How are you not actively a tree trunk man? Your hot as hell girlfriend is laying on you in her birth day suit and you're just laying there while she reads?"

"We had been enjoying a quiet morning until you barged in," I remind, his eyes turning to me.

"And you! You're hot -"

"Please stop there before I feel the need to hurl at the words that were about to come out of your mouth," Jack interrupts this time.

"What's to say that he's not hard as a rock?" I can't help but tease, Jack's brows hitting the ceiling as Trevor chokes on his spit.

"Ok, gross, I'm leaving."

"Bring me back my book! I want to finish the chapter I was on!" I demand, Trev tossing the book to Jack to catch as he makes his way to the door.

"We're going to pretend that this never happened, because otherwise I may be the one barfing."

"Trev, you were literally the one that barged -"

"Nope, can't hear you, see ya!" The boys calls, barely out the door and letting it shut behind himself.

Rising onto my hands, the shift catches J's attention, his eyes meeting mine.

"Yes baby?"

"You need a more normal best friend."